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A Stronger Hold	By : ShadowMeld Category: +A through F > Elder Scrolls - Skyrim Views: 7601 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any profit from the Elder Scrolls series.

Chapter List
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The next morning the messenger arrived with word from Daguk Yar. Her father was apparently pleased, and with him the messenger brought a respectable chest of gems and a fine stallion from strong war-bred stock, its coat as rich and black as the ore it was named after.
Kharzu seemed infinitely glad to see the horse. “Ebony! Now I never thought that old boar would ever let you go with me. I’m glad he did, handsome lad like you will take good care of our ladies now won’t you?” The horse whinnied agreeably, and her forgewife laughed, patting his smooth mane before leading him off to the temporary stables herself.
It had been a relief last night that they hadn’t had to worry about sleeping arrangements. Kharzu had been busy in the forge and insisted on working late into the night, even camping out there. She’d tried to tell the smith that she was welcome, and the woman had grinned quite wide and shooed her off, though she’d promised she’d take her up on the offer soon enough. As much as it shamed her, she’d been glad to have that awkwardness put off for the moment.
“She’s a good woman. I saw a bit of her work earlier today, it was impressive,” Lagat noted in pleased tones as they both watched Kharzu lead the stud off.
“Rub it in why don’t you? I never claimed to be a master smith,” Durash grumbled in a playfully disgruntled tone.
“Well its good you can kill bandits and beasts, then isn’t it? But it is good to have a forgewife official. It’s getting to look like a real hold now, chief.”
Lagat’s warm regard had Durash feeling giddy and unbelievably flustered. All she could manage under such scrutiny was a shy sort of smile before she took off to sharpen some of her old blades. The task always helped to keep her distracted, and she found that she’d needed a lot of… distracting of late.
*****
It was quiet like that for a week. Durash had hardly seen Kharzu, but then she’d also not made a real effort to go and see her new wife, and if she was honest with herself she had been avoiding her a bit as well. Something about Kharzu’s dark gaze, how it burned over her or the husky rumble of her voice just made Durash embarrassingly uncomfortable. Her forgewife had come to sleep in the longhouse, but with separate beds it wasn’t really anything different than it had been before. She wasn’t sure how she should regard that.
Once again Durash found herself running her fingers over the honed edge of her greatsword. The blade was good for what it was, but she would have to get around to replacing it soon. Honestly she may have been sharpening it a little too much lately, but it was really the only thing she could do to get her mind off things.
“My Chief.”
In the doorway stood Kharzu, her imposing form taking up a good portion of the frame as she stepped forward, a well wrapped bundle filling up her large hands. Durash stood up from the bed she’d been sitting on, feeling color heat her cheeks for no apparent reason. Like always her words seemed hard in coming as she looked at the handsome woman. “Kharzu.”
“I thought it was about time I brought you your wedding present,” the tall woman’s teeth flashed sharply as she pressed the bundle into Durash’s hands. “Well, one of them. The other you’ll get when we’re a bit better acquainted.”
Durash didn’t know quite what to think about her forgewife’s phrasing, but either way took the present as it was given to her. It was long and heavy, and it didn’t take the chief long to figure out what it was after she cleared some of the rags wrapping around it. Still, seeing it in its entirety took her breath away.
It was a greatsword. The blade was solid ebony and a gorgeous motif of a beautiful, fearsome woman decorated the crossguard. Orichalcum inlay colored her skin, making it clear this was an Orsimer blade. The design carried on in embellishments both sharp and exquisite, curving down to accent a blade that was wickedly sharp.
For once it was more than the manner of her forgewife that left Durash speechless. What could she say in the presence of such a masterpiece? There seemed no simple words that would express the honor she felt in being gifted such a weapon.
“I…thank you, Kharzu.”
“You’re welcome. But it hardly compares.”
Durash started, “to what? I have never seen anything of its like─”
She knew Kharzu was laughing at her horror, but it just seemed absurd. “Not the blade, my lovely chief. To you.”
Malacath, if she’d thought she was utterly, completely flustered before, it was nothing compared to this. Kharzu smiled and she would swear she’d never seen a grin so full of teeth. The forgewife stepped closer and it wasn’t until her back hit the longhouse wall that she realized she’d been retreating back. The impact startled her, but it only seemed to reflect in more feral amusement in her second wife’s handsome face.
“You know, my chief …My beautiful Durash... I noticed that you have been avoiding me.”
“N-no, I would never─”
“It wasn’t a question,” Kharzu whispered, a strong reaching up to touch the wall by Durash’s shoulders, the other woman using her larger body to pin her in. The chief’s heart was beating like a caged thing, and she couldn’t help the awful need to squirm as her forgewife’s intense gaze focused on her.
Durash was a warrior. Any bandit or intruder she would have cut down easily if they tried to pin her so, but the chief found herself helpless against her wife. “I know why,” Kharzu continued, “so I’m inclined to forgive you. But I’ve come to see that you’re not going to bridge that gap on your own. That’s alright though, I don’t mind teaching you a thing or two.”
Durash was still trying to get together something to say when she felt full lips press to her own as an assertive leg pressed up between her thighs. All breath escaped the smaller orcismer as Kharzu drank it down for herself. A hot mouth was claiming hers, but she was grateful for it as a strong thigh rubbed insistently against her mound and she had to hide a cry between their lips.
She didn’t even know when she’d gotten so hot and so sensitive, but she was clawing at the forgewoman’s hard shoulders, crying out even as she was embarrassed at the pleasure. At first she really tried shying away, turning her head a bit, raising to her toes to keep her throbbing sex from making contact with that leg. She was being overwhelmed, drowning in her first real taste of female flesh and admittedly going into the unknown like this scared her.
Kharzu held no such uncertainty. Growling deep, the smith grabbed those fickle hips and dragged them down and back against the firmness of her leg, moving what she could feel was a wet, tender sex up and down a muscled length of thigh. High, pleading noises met her ministrations, and she taught Durash how to grind on her, how to take her pleasure. It was embarrassing, but the chief was taking to it. Short breathed and aching, the younger orc was actually bold enough to slide her hand under her forgewife’s tunic as she rubbed her aching apex into that pleasing friction.
“You ready to take these clothes off?” The forgewife whispered just as her hand went down to cup the hurting heat between her legs.
Durash only nodded, not quite able to make the words form.
But it seemed Kharzu had endured enough of her uncertainty, as she didn’t make any moves to take the breeches off. The dark-skinned orc just brushed her lips against the chief’s, rubbing a frighteningly accurate thumb right over where her clit hid behind the leathers. A cry sobbed out of the virgin chief’s mouth, her nails digging hard into the flesh she had found under her tunic. Kharzu just kept stroking, back and forth over that sweet little spot until Durash thought she would hit her peak, only to move those awful fingers just far enough away to keep her tormented and ready.
“Tell me you want to be naked with me, tell me you want to fuck. I want to hear your pretty voice say it, my sweet chief.”
If she was in a more coherent state of mind, Durash was sure she would have been mortified at the lick of excitement her second wife’s dirty words caused within her. As it was, the trembling young chief had to force herself to speak before Kharzu returned to tormenting her tender sex again. “Malacath, yes get me naked… please. I want t-to fuck.”
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A Stronger Hold