The Gardener and The Orc

Chapter 2

Skip to Chapters 4, 5, 7, 11, 12, and 13 for the smutty stuff. After a few chapters of necessary scene-setting, we're getting to it!

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Lilith had to ride an hour out of the way from her small-town destination to gather the stores she needed from another hidden cellar if she wanted to keep the prior one intact for her would-be trader. After finding its contents to be perfectly in order and tying off her goods to her horse's pack, she led her steed and band of dogs to the oft-used stream-side camp her cousin would meet her at by sundown with a wagon in-tow. She made excellent time with all things considered, and gave her hounds leave to roam the area once her horse was tied off within reach of the water. Her dark green wool hooded cloak and tanned wide-brimmed leather hat now hung on a stubbed broken branch. She only unpacked what was needed--a rough-hewn blanket for sitting, some cheap hammered metal plates for eating, a hand-line fishing spool, and a cloth-lined tin full of moist soil and bait.

With the line cast downstream and the wooden handle of the fishing-line spool anchored under a decent-sized boulder, she knew she'd have several fish caught by the time Kors arrived with the wagon and all the firewood, kindling, vegetables, pots, and butter their dinner would need. It left her with a few hours of time to kill, perhaps foraging, or a bath, or...warmth bloomed upon her cheeks, and she found herself looking up into the tree canopy for a sturdy branch. The dogs would sound the alarm if she was going to be interrupted, but being out of sight was still comforting on the off chance she got too lost in herself to hear them.

Within minutes she had hoisted herself up onto a particularly large tree and found a thick branch hidden by a blanket of swaying willow reeds, her back now nestled against the trunk. The birds-eye view was barely noted as she quickly got to work untying her riding trousers just enough to yield room for her hand to dive beneath them. She started slow, her fingers teasing the bundle of nerves at the top of her crease through the lining of her undergarments, making practiced tantalizing circles that made heat pool at her core. It wasn't long before her breathing hitched, before she began worrying at her full bottom lip, before her free hand blindly grasped at a thin nearby branch to keep her upright and steady.

The warmth in her cheeks burned brighter when her busy fingers found their freedom beneath her underthings, as they were welcomed by already-slick folds. She could only part her thighs so-much while still keeping abreast the branch, giving way to a single digit prodding into her slit, curling it until she made contact with where she found the tension in her body building. A lilting moan was stifled by her still-bitten lip, and she found herself arching her hips towards her hand, the base of her palm now grinding eagerly against her clit. When her full lips finally parted, her breaths came in short gasps, so close to the shuddering pleasure she knew would make her see stars behind her lidded eyes.

But the distant sound of her dogs barking made her eyes fly open instead, causing her to haphazardly scramble down the wide berth of the tree. Once her feet were back on the ground, she was looking around wildly for the direction the alarming came from. "Kors?" she called out uncertainly, glancing down only to hastily tie her trousers and readjust her pocket-laden leather belt. Out of the brush came one hound bounding, a felled rabbit in it's maw, and the two others came crashing through just behind. Lilith sighed, half in relief and half in exasperation, "Ach, more fish for us, then!" and made her way to the stream to check the line.

By the time she had skinned the rabbit and divided the spoils among the dogs, she had caught two fish and got to work relieving them of their scales and fins. With ample time to bathe, Lilith kicked off her boots, slung her belt over a branch along with some fresh clothes and a thin cotton sheet, and began methodically undressing until she was in naught but the long fine cotton sleeveless shirt she wore under her tunic. She left only that on for modesty. Everything she had disrobed was now neatly tucked away into a lovely blue silk cinch-top satchel that had carefully-stitched silver threading woven into the fabric forming a fanciful cursive L, eased into a nook in the trunk of the stream-side tree. Bathing was no leisurely affair, the water was damned cold and she made quick work of it behind a row of bushes not far from her tree.

It was only minutes before she was wading back over, wringing out the just-wet ends of her long brown hair and pulling at the wet shirt that was plastered to her skin, clinging to every full curve her body had to offer. She quickly replaced it by wrapping herself tightly in the cotton sheet that hung from the branch, patting every shivering and goose-pimpled surface of her skin and quickly re-dressing. Only once she was hopping on one foot, pulling her final boot on, did she note the blue silk satchel was replaced by an unfamiliar scratchy-wool blanket and an unusual leather-woven basket filled with bright red berries. "Gods, where did this--" she sputtered out, barely managing to keep her balance as she spun wildly, trying to see all she could see in the narrow field of vision the camp offered. She stumbled further into the clearing, finding everything else untouched, save for another newly felled rabbit at the feet of her dogs, but this one had a cut snare still-attached.

It took several moments for her to recover, slack-jawed and staring at what she now realized was their second bribery to silence, but she whirled back around to her still-hanging belt and unsheathed an ornate but sharp dagger. "I suspect you don't mean any harm," she called out, noting her horse and all its wares were still intact while her eyes darted around, "but you see well enough I am alone and this sneaking about is cause for alarm." She slowly took a step back reaching blindly for where the newly-possessed items sat, snatching up the basket and bringing it into sight. She dared a glance down at it and did a double-take, seeing the leather strips that made the body of the basket were carefully wound about a fine and delicately wrought metal.

"Orcs," she murmured to herself before looking back up, slowing her gaze as she attempted to peer through the leaf-laden branches that surrounded the clearing. "And...I believe you saw my note then, but saw fit to follow me rather than meet? Are you afraid to venture into Portstown?" she called out again, finding her mouth increasingly dry with fear. She crouched down to set the basket and its berries carefully onto the ground with her left hand, her right hand flipping the hilt of her dagger so it pointed down, keeping both hands raised in surrender as she slowly stood back up.

She was met with silence still, but the hairs at the back of her neck told her they kept close by, and even if they didn't their hearing was keen enough to catch her words. "I can guarantee your safety. The town is *mine*," she spoke harsh only then, possessively-so, like she laid claim to it. But her words softened once more, "If it is more silk like that bag you seek, my wagon is nearing, filled with whole swaths of it...You think my cellar was not enough for your fine trinket? That is fair," she relented. Orcs so rarely had time to make anything other than weapons, save for the last few seasons of peace; perhaps she underestimated its value so.

She openly grasped around for the woolen blanket the orc had also left, unfurling it out of sight and bringing it into her peripheral vision. A heavenly scent wafted from it, like honey and sage and sandalwood--her long dark eyelashes fluttered, looking over at it, perplexed. Incense, perhaps? Or were they dabbling in perfumes, scented soaps? "I'll give you a whole trough of those silk satchels for this scent," she muttered, more to herself than to her would-be fellow tradesmen, while bringing the blanket close to her nose. But she nearly dropped it at the sound of her dogs keening, bouncing excitedly, as a figure two heads taller than her came into view. Lilith could now clearly make out the pale gray skin, the open-chested vest, the loose harem trousers, the hard sharp features, the pointed ears, the past-shoulder length black hair half-tied up, the...the orc.

If she meant to scream at the surprise of it, the sound came out more like a squeak, and he met it with a dark chuckle. His black eyes met hers before he tossed a fistful of her dirty linens the bag kept into the clearing. They were followed by the now-empty blue silk satchel, and she watched it flutter to the ground with widened eyes. Socks, tunic, pants--everything save for the one strip of cloth that would be left, now crumpled in his hand. He gave a smug, white-toothed grin and brought this hand up, making a show out of sniffing it loudly. "I did not trade for the bag," was all he countered to her offer.

Notes:

Oi, what's a not-so-modern term for panties? It's panties, folks. Undergarments sound like bloomers, eh?