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A Stronger Hold	By : ShadowMeld Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 7601 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
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They must have ridden for hours. She had to stop to kill a few bears of course, but that was typical of any journey. She’d heard about a mine that wasn’t too far away, highly coveted but overrun by foresworn. On any other day she’d have thought it to be too much of a risk to take for no reason, but good ore made a strong hold. They would need more to mine it, and to build, but the errands the chief had sent her on before had left her with a good amount of loot she could sell off to some of the outlanders. It’d at least be enough for timber and to pay help to build.
Clearing the foresworn had been messy work. The first she’d had to pick off with arrows, but two fully armored orcs were more than a match for the four that were left. The briarheart was the only one that was truly a challenge, and he’d gotten his hits in, but he had little time to cherish such a victory before her greatsword cut the man in half.
*****
Months later Durash Gar was looking out at her new stronghold. Some of the city orcs that had helped to build had chosen to stay and were helping in the mines. There had been a few foresworn attacks since the inception of the hold, but they were poorly organized and easily driven off. To be honest the first months were nothing more than a bustle. She’d really only seen Lagat briefly as the two of them passed each other in their duties. But now that they were mostly established, she wasn’t sure how to approach her old friend and new first wife.
Lagat was outside barking orders at some miners who had been slacking off, and the mere sight of it made Durash smile. She didn’t see how what had once been so easy now seemed so complicated. She loved Lagat, wanted her, it should have been simple to say something, to embrace her. Instead she found the words dried up on her tongue and her hands were left fitfully skittish as her eyes rolled wistfully over those curves.
A loud knock on the door to the stronghold distracted her from her reminisce. Durash stood, grabbing her greatsword as she stepped toward the gateway. Foresworn had never knocked before, but there was a first time for everything. “Announce yourself!”
“It’s kin, my chief,” a guard yelled.
“Alright.”
A guard unlocked the door, and even the chief startled when it was promptly kicked open. Durash’s grip on the sword tightened before she raised her brows at the sight of a lone female Orsimer staring boldly back at her.
“You got a forgewife?”
Durash sheathed her greatsword, her gaze roaming over the newcomer. “No…” the young chief started, unsure of exactly where this strange new woman was going with her query. As her mother had been the forgewife of her old chief, she had taught Durash some things, but her skill with metals would never compare to that of her dam. For now they were getting by on her smithing and that of a few others who were at least acquainted with the forge.
“Good. I’m Kharzu. So you’re really the chief, huh?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Nope. Heard about what you’ve got going here, and I’ve come to be your woman. My home hold, Daguk Yar, is just over the mountains. Brought a dowry too,” the sturdy, dark-skinned Orsimer raised the massive bag that somehow Durash hadn’t even noticed until now was settled on her shoulder. “Strong ore. We’ve got an ebony mine, and my Chief offers his best if you’ll have me. I suppose he’s just happy I’ve got an interest in any chief. So, what’d ya think?”
The young chief was speechless, just staring between the bag and the tall, hard-built woman in front of her. Talk about direct. As chief she had been expecting to find other wives as well, as much as she loved Lagat, it was what bonded the hold together. But so soon? Still it was no offer to turn down lightly. The woman was obviously affiliated with another hold, and thus far the best they’d gotten from the surrounding chiefs had been an uneasy tolerance…but an alliance? That could mean much for their group.
Considering it brought Dursh’s thoughts more firmly to considering the woman before her. She was no slight thing like Lagat. No, this female orc was one of the largest she’d seen. Her shoulders were broad and her arms hardened from long hours at the forge, and even through the weathered travel clothes she could see that the rest of her was just as trim and toned. The only thing that really made her stand out as a woman was a proud, ample bosom which admittedly quite drew Durash’s eye.
And it seemed the new Orsimer sensed it, because a husky laugh brought the chief’s eyes up and had her cheeks flushing in awkwardness. Durash may have been mortified, but at least the newcomer didn’t take offense. Laughing like that, she was actually quite striking. Kharzu was not a pretty thing, handsome actually suited her better. The forge woman’s features were vaguely androgynous, even on the side of masculine. Full lips added a touch of sensuality, and her short hair cut emphasized the pleasing, if hard, planes of her face. Honestly, she was very attractive, in that bold, aggressive way of hers.
In fact, Durash was actually shifting embarrassedly under the scorching gaze that the new female was giving her at the moment. The chief couldn’t help but feel sort of ridiculous that the perusal made her feel such a sudden surge of excitement. She was keeping a hold now, being eyed up by a stranger should not get her going the way it was. But considering how things had not progressed with Lagat, it wasn’t surprising that she responded to such overt female interest.
And Kharzu was making no excuses. Malacath help her, Durash couldn’t help but wish it was that easy for her.
Still, Durash was not about to be cowed under a little attention, and the chief stood tall and proud like the warrior that she was. This didn’t seem though to dissuade the other’s gaze, and in fact it only seemed even more intrigued as it examined her assets. Malacath, the woman was incorrigible.
“Oh, we have a visitor?”
Lagat’s voice cut through Durash’s thoughts of the visitor, and her gaze darted a little guiltily to her first wife looking with obvious interest in their new arrival. While Durash was still trying to think of something to say the newcomer took the liberty of answering.
“Kharzu. I have come to propose as forgewife to your chief. Are you the first?” Durash did not like the knowing gaze of the visitor as she looked between Lagat and herself.
“Yes, I am.” She didn’t think she’d ever seen Lagat blush so deep as she did then. Kharzu was looking at her similar to how she had Durash; weighing, appreciative, and it had her first wife flushing and grinning a little before she looked the other woman over in return. “So, you’re proposing to my chief?”
“Indeed. I’ve trained under my mother’s forge and we make strong weapons, much coveted even in the surrounding holds. And I bring ebony ore as dowry. I hope that these offerings are… acceptable.”
Durash couldn’t help the way her gaze nervously went to her first wife. She’d always planned to get more wives, but she’d never spoken to Lagat about it. Of course she’d thought that such things were a long time coming, especially with a stronghold newly established and of their…controversial nature. But to have someone actually approach them, and not only that, but come with offerings and alliance. She didn’t know if she was relieved or worried when Lagat was smiling brightly in pleasure. Durash may have been conflicted, but she had to do what was best for the hold.
“I accept your proposal.”
“Alright then, I’ll just get set up in the longhouse then, my chief.”
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A Stronger Hold