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>When posting prompts, always remember to add kinks you're both looking for and wanting to avoid in a potential fill.
>When filling, please remember to add your story tags: characters, relationship types, kinks, series and universe (ie: skyrim)
>Our character limit here at LJ is 4300.
>If you have any other questions about posting, visit the HOW TO KINK MEME THREAD, under the Page Summary on your left.
F!Orc!Chief/F!Orc!Wives “A Stronger Hold” (1b/?)
Date: 2012-12-25 07:00 pm (UTC)Durash shook her head, “it doesn’t matter what she wants. I’m leaving, and you’re coming with me. We’re starting our own stronghold, with me as the chief.”
Her friend stumbled back, stunned. “What? Durash we can’t. It’s forbidden, there’s no way the other strongholds would accept us. No woman is chief, it’s unheard of.”
“So you refuse to come with me?”
Lagat snorted and smacked her shoulder, the change was abrupt, but still made Durash smile. “Of course I’m coming with you, I just hope you know what you’re doing.”
Durash laughed, that was the Lagat she knew. “Not really, but we’ll make it up as we go…first wife.”
Lagat went still abruptly. She would have chuckled at the look of shock on the other orc’s face if she wasn’t so anxious of her reaction. Durash had been looking with increasing interest at her old friend for a while now. But she’d never acted on it before. Lagat was beautiful, bright, and all those things that made for quite a prize of a woman. She knew many of the tribe’s men had their eye on Lagat, the law of Malacath had kept them back, but she had seen their interest. Durash was not really so delicate and fine a beauty, and she had little indication to hint at Lagat’s temperament. But Durash wanted her, Malacath did she want her.
The silence was deafening, and Durash was starting to shore up her defenses as she readied for the increasing possibility of rejection.
“You’re not just teasing me… you mean that?” Lagat questioned urgently, her pale eyes searching.
“Of course, I’d never joke about something like this,” Durash whispered, trying not to reveal the tension that made her muscles tight. She wanted her, but it was alright if Lagat didn’t feel the same… they could still go on. They could be friends and she could still start the tribe.
“Then of course Durash. For the love of Malacath, you’ve been my best friend for practically forever. I can’t turn you down now. And… I like you. Of course you’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”
It embarrassed her, but Durash was infinitely relieved to hear those words. Her impatient hands finally put down the pack and Durash turned to wrap her arms around that more slender form. She was stiff for a moment, but then Lagat embraced her back and Durash melted against her. She savored the feel of those curves pressing into hers, the slighter Orsimer’s warmth, her regard. It was enough to made one giddy, but there was still business to be done.
Reluctantly she released her, going back to packing her bags. Distantly she heard Lagat gathering her own possessions, and just the sound of it made her smile.
They’d just finished pooling their things when she heard heavy boots on the wood plank floor. She didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. The chief. Her father. Durash braced herself with the bag slung over her shoulder, gaze turning to the looming form of her chief snarling with deliberate impassivity. Her father’s disapproval was nothing new, and Durash had no intention of backing down now.
“You are not taking Lagat with you!”
She had to laugh, of course he didn’t care about her leaving, it was Lagat he didn’t want to go. Honestly, she shouldn’t have been surprised, she’d noticed the way her father had started looking at her dear friend ever since she’d started to visibly mature. The man didn’t care that Lagat was almost the same age as his own daughter; he only cared for his own interests. “I am, Father, and we are leaving.”
The Chief grabbed her arm, his gauntleted fingers digging in and tusks flashing as he growled, but Durash was not going to be manhandled. She shifted and drove her knee right into his gut, doubling him over before dragging him up again by that flashy tail of hair, her dagger at his throat. “You’re not going to try and stop us. If you do, it will be a challenge, and then we’ll see once and for all if you’re really worthy to be chief.”
When the man was done panting like a scout on their first run, he was growling. She let him sit up a bit, but that didn’t mean the blade came away from his throat. There was darkness reflected in her eyes, and she knew there was no coming back here after this. Good.