Those Who Dream of Orcs

Cicada and Rugorim

           Cicada had just gotten out of the bath and needed to warm herself by the fire. Through the dancing flames, she caught a glance of her dress draped over the chair. She picked it up and buried her face in it and took in a deep breath. It smelled of Rugorim.

"What am I doing," she laughed to herself at the thought of someone seeing her sniff her clothes to take in the scent of an orc.

          There was a tap at her window but she ignored it. The wind was blowing and Cicada figured it had to be small rocks and branches crashing into her window. That is until she heard it again, but this time it sounded like someone lightly knocking.

She rushed over to the window and pulled the curtain back.

"My lord," she nervously fumbled with the latch. "My lord, what are you  doing, you'll catch your death of cold." She scolded, pushing the window open.

The brisk wind chilled her to the bone as she grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.

"What are you doing here? How did you get up here,"

"I'm sorry, my lady but I had to see you again,"

"but I only left you a little while ago,"

"I know, but I had no idea when I would see you again and I couldn't wait,"

"How did you get up here my lord?  This is the third floor and how did you know this was my room?"

"It wasn't hard to climb up here and as for finding your room, I simply smelled you, sweet lady,"

"you smelled me,"

Cicada was mortified, she slightly lowered her head trying to get a good whiff of herself. She was sure she didn't smell, she had just bathed and she always used oils and perfumes.

"Not to worry my lady," Rugorim chuckled. "I didn't mean it like that. Your scent is... It's hard to explain. Orcs have an excellent sense of smell, it's like when a human smells something delicious and their mouths begin to water at the thought of eating it."

"Do you want to eat me, my lord?"

"No... Well yes, metaphorically speaking. But your scent is delicious and intoxicating," he said, caressing her cheek.

"My lord, you're freezing," she said, taking his hand, guiding him to the fireplace. "Warm yourself,"

He sat next to the fire and warmed himself while  Cicada rummaged through her dresser and pulled out a blanket and placed it over his shoulders.

"Seriously," she scolded. "What were you thinking,"

"I was only thinking about seeing you again, my lady," he held out his hand.

"I guess I should be glad of that," she took his hand. "But don't kill yourself trying to do so my lord. Then I would be lonely"

"Is that so," he smirked, pulling Cicada down in his lap and wrapping her in the blanket.

Cicada nuzzled into the warmth and comfort of Lord Rugorim's arms.

"My, my lord there is something I wish to ask,"

"What is it," his arms tightened around her.

"Before this goes any further, I wish to know about the relationship between you and that orc Lorraine,"

"Lorraine and I were close," he said with no hesitation in his voice whatsoever. "But it was strictly physical. We spent many nights in each other's arms but nothing more,"

"For how long?"

"off and on for a while,"

"When did it end?"