Chapter Six
The previous day, he’d brought fruits and a modern book – something frightfully interesting, the writer hadn’t skipped past the good bits; in the old days, they just talked of loving before hurriedly jumping back to things far less outrageous, such as beheadings. Now, they had no shame in describing just what the loving entailed, cock sucking and all.
Blowjobs, they called it, these days.
“Gerda asked for this book, so I got you a copy, too,” her elf told her.
He often brought her things; clothes, sweets, and a pretty stone the same blue as her eyes. There now was a shelf in her cave, built from wood he’d just cut outside, where she could store them all.
“When are you going to leave me alone?” she asked conversationally.
She said it everyday, and every day, he came back.
“When are you going to stop living in the woods?”
She shrugged, knowing the answer. She’d return to her palace when he stopped visiting her.
He would, some day.
“Are you going to tell me your name today?”
Eira could have introduced herself, but she was reluctant to do so. Sure, she might have given one of her names without explaining the pedigree attached to it, but she knew he would have more questions when she relented this one detail. Where did she come from, why was she here? She saw them all dancing in his eyes, and when he had her name, he’d ask something else.
Because fair was fair, she hadn’t asked for his either, although she would have liked to know it.
“Who is Greda?”
She heard it before she’d consciously decided to say it out loud; and there was an edge to the question, too.
She sounded like a possessive girlfriend; and it was quite fitting too, as it happened to be exactly what she felt like.
“My… friend, I suppose.”
She didn’t twitch. She might have been proud of her mature reaction, if the storm outside hadn’t suddenly picked up.
The elf was visibly alarmed by the unnatural change of weather.
“Damn. Tonight isn’t going to be safe out there, if this continues,” he told her. “Come with me.”
They’d met a month ago, now; he’d asked perhaps fifteen times, since.
“I think not.”
The elf glared at her for the longest time, she could feel it although her eyes were focused on the naughty book she was re-reading.
“That wasn’t a question, witch.”
On that note, like the barbarian she’d frequently accused him to be – at least, in her mind – he grabbed her and threw her onto his shoulder.
Eira yelped in surprise, first, and then, concentrated on trying very hard to prevent herself from giggling like a schoolgirl, wiggling for the sake of it.
“You may want to stop this witch, or I shall have to smack this fine rear end.”
This was delivered in his usual tone, devoid of intonation, and oh-so-sexy because of it.
She was speechless. Smack her ass? No one had ever dared in her entire existence.
“You wouldn’t!”
His answer to that was one harsh, loud slap right on the spot.
She cried out and her eyes bulged in shock; to be frank, she wasn’t surprised by the smack she’d all but invited, but rather, by the feeling it awakened. She felt it down to her nipples. They were hardening and it had very little to do with the cold.
“You heathen! If you ever do it again I’ll…”
Smack.
This time, the scream definitely could be described as a moan.
“Fuck. You won’t get away with this! I swear…”
Smack.
She insulted him all the way down, ensuring she earned a few dozen slaps. By the time they’d reached the village, she was a bundle of restless senses, every part of her hot, bothered and ever so ready.
“I suggest you keep your mouth shut for the next few minutes, witch. You may not want everyone in here hearing you whimper with needs.”
The rake knew exactly what he’d been doing!
She lifted her head, trying to see behind his shoulders, and feeling her move, he shifted her, carrying her in his arms now.
“I can walk, you know.”
That, the elf thoroughly ignored, keeping her right where she’d been although the entire village seemed to converge towards them.
Ok, that might be an exaggeration; there wasn’t more then twenty people in front of them, but the crowd grew every second.
There were cabins left and right, some on the ground, other built high in the trees. All of them were well constructed and a glimpse inside revealed modern amenities, but the living spaces were small.
“Who is the pretty lady, Prince Kai,” a childish voice chanted.
He didn’t stop, but the little boy followed them, obviously expecting an answer. Her elf, who was quite obviously called Kai – prince Kai – was looking down at her, waggling one eyebrow.
Oh, dammit.
“Eira,” she relented, wondering if he’d put the kid up to it.
Probably.
“Kragen,” Kai said, turning towards the child, “Go tell everyone that a storm rages up. It’s best if they stay inside until morning.”
The boy nodded solemnly, before running towards the first person he caught, and relaying Kai’s words. Then, he ran again and repeated them.
“He takes the whole messenger thing rather seriously,” she noted.
They’d arrived to the door of the largest cabin; Kai kicked it open with one foot and then, they were inside his home, a humble, simple house which came with one incredible luxury: a fireplace.
A month ago, it had been rather hot in Jereena, but after living in the cold for these last weeks, she’d forgotten what it meant to be entirely dry and warm.
Eira jumped from Kai’s arm and ran towards the fire, removing layers of wet fabric as she defrosted her poor limbs.
The boots went, first, then the cold socks, the coat and the jumper. Standing in her pants and long-sleeve t-shirt, she all but moaned in delight, holding her hands to the flame.
Kai chuckled behind her, but she was enjoying this too much to care about how silly she looked.
“Here, Eira.”
He was drawing out her name, using it like a weapon aimed straight at her clit while handing her some fabric, which seemed awfully dry and fluffy.
“Get changed. I’ll go beg Fyn for some broth.”
Her mouth watered at the prospect. Broth sounded so warm.
She discarded the rest of her clothing as soon as he’d left, changing into the comfortable things he’d given her.
All of them were her size, and like the clothes he’d brought her in her cave, they were new. Had he purchased them for her specific use?
Eira was perplexed. Back along, she had been pretty far down the list of gods who received offering; mainly because she hadn’t demanded any.
Then, she recalled he didn’t know she was a goddess; so those weren’t tributes – they were presents.
Another foreign concept. Belle had provided her with garments, but she’d seen it as payment for the endless lessons she’d given. A trade. She hadn’t given anything to Kai, yet.
What did he want? She had half a dozen possibilities in her mind. The one thing she scratched off the list was sex. Men with his looks needn’t work quite so hard for it. Standing without a shirt on did the trick.
No matter, he’d state his price soon enough.
When she’d suitably warmed up, Eira finally paid attention to her surroundings.
There was a bookshelf with several old manuscripts, and a lot of recent books, too – mysteries, mainly, by the look of it.
The cabin had two floors; she guessed the bedroom was upstairs; down here, there just was a bare, simple kitchen on the left and a study on the right.
Kai was back before she’d snooped much further, armed with a bucketful of something that made her stomach roar.
“Get us some bowls, Eira. Top cupboard.”
She all but ran to comply; trying a few drawers, she found spoons, too.
There was a dining table near the window, but she set the places down next to the fire, understandably.
“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted!”
Kai smiled, before launching in an enthusiastic praise of Fyn, the cook.
There it was again. She managed to prevent herself from demanding who that particular lady was, but the possessiveness showed its ugly head nonetheless.
They ate in comfortable silence and finishing before her, Kai went to his bookcase, picking up an old volume before returning to his seat.
“Done with that?” he asked when she stopped eating.
He moved to take her bowl just as she reached for it, and their hands touched, sending a jolt so powerful Zeus would have been jealous through her veins.
“I’ll put it away,” she grumbled, startled by the domestic scene.
Cleaning up dishes wasn’t a thing she was foreign to; goddess or not, she had lived alone for the best part of two millenniums.
Kai followed her, drying everything as she finished washing. It was all so mundane, yet the tension in the room would have made anyone who intruded blush and run away.
“Fuck it,” the elf said, dropping the spoon he’d just picked up back on the shelve, and next thing she knew, she was imprisoned between two strong, defined arms, and his mouth went down on hers.
Fuck it sounded like a brilliant idea.