Content Warning: Sexual, strong language
Miklian stood at the side of the cart, gently patting the side of Brute's neck as he watched the pair of his friends walk away. He had been trying so hard to avoid making her uncomfortable, but when she had leaned on him, even though she was asleep he couldn't help but feel overcome by a warmth he had never known before.
He sighed deeply before stepping off into the trees just beyond the road, intent on relieving the pressure he had been allowing to build up, unable to justify his thoughts as they continuously wandered back to the moment he had met Wynessa. The way her hips dipped in slightly, the way her belly pouched slightly, the fullness of her breasts above his face as she glared down at him with those beautiful honeyed-amber eyes. He wanted so badly to wrap his hands about those hips, and trail gentle kisses along her body. He wanted to have her in his embrace completely and willingly, giving herself to him in a way he had never desired before.
It was carnal.
Had he never thought of a woman this way before? No, of course not. It was so shameful to desire like this, but his thoughts and mind were not under his control as he imagined her lips against his own, whispering his name. Caressing his body with her petite hands that held so much strength behind them, hiding what she was truly capable of.
Giants thankfully did not make much noise as they climax, so his foray in the woods went unnoticed by his companions as they moved farther from the cart and the spray of bushes and trees now marked by his desires.
Timias held tightly to Wynessa's hand wrapped in genteel fashion around his arm and called out to the gathering of people who looked to be a mixture of humans and elves dressed comfortably without much care for colour combinations or what was in style. In a way, she was reminded of the way the elf on her arm dressed.
"Gracious and glorious night to you, friends! May we request admittance to your beautiful bonfire gala?" His voice was jovial and kind as they approached from the road, and his question was met by joyful and resounding shouts of greeting inviting the pair further in towards the camp of easily two dozen people.
"Welcome friends!" An older elf man called out, taller than Wynessa with dark skin and equally dark hair and eyes that smiled as he walked towards them. He reminded her of the previous king, not just in the way he strode over regally or how he held himself with his shoulders back. He had a way about him that exuded royalty. "Welcome, welcome. Please, come join our celebration!"
"May we ask what is being celebrated, good sir?" Timias bowed low to the man, pulling Wyness with him to curtsey respectfully.
"A wedding, friends! Come!" The man clasped each of their arms and hoisted them upright, before bringing them into the ring of caravans and carts that made up their traveling band. "My daughter has married the love of her life! There she is now with her bride!"
He gestured towards a pair of writhing bodies that danced wistfully around by the fire, moving to the beating drums, rising with the elation of the flutes and whistles, stomping hungrily towards each other with the rhythms of the hurdy gurdy. The two women were beautiful in their own rights, but together they were beyond earthly. One of them had hair dark as raven's eye with purple and blue yarn and feathers braided into it, her face was round and kind and laughed wholly and without reservation. Her wife was shorter, her laugh was broader, her hair was a deep red that glowed in the firelight behind her and her eyes were just as dark as the man who led the newcomers towards the circles of people dancing around the newlyweds.
"Milaya! These strangers bring you and Morgana a gift!" He pushed Wynessa towards the brides, bottle clenched in hand as she was hypnotised by the women dancing so beautifully, so in tune with each other, so perfectly matched. Eventually, as the music came to a close, she stepped through the people gathered and towards them more intently.
"Please accept this as a congratulations. May you both never need for anything but each other, and may your lives together be long and joyous." She extended her hands, bowing her head and she offered the liquor towards them. A shiver threaded its way down her body as a chilled hand gently lifted her chin to see her. The hand belonged to the shorter woman with red hair who smiled as she looked Wynessa's features over.
"Your gift is accepted, as is your blessing if you will accept mine in return." She turned to her wife, offering a hand to pull them together before their guest. "May your love be returned in full and belong to only you."
Wynessa felt tears tug at the corners of her eyes as they burned, nodding gently in accepting their well wishes before stepping back and rejoining her friend and the father of one of the brides. Timias seemed to be engrossed in conversation with him and another man of similar stature, but his skin was slightly lighter than the other who had welcomed them.
"Ah! Wynessa, my dear friend, come meet these two wonderful gentlemen! Superb people! You must come speak with them! This is Mochael Neduras, who brought us over earlier, and this is the father of his daughter's wife, Laoman Kokaedas. They each headed a major family in one of the villages that was destroyed along the border at the beginning of the war. Apparently, rather than settle down in any one location, they have opted to ride the roads and travel instead! How magnificent is this! Novel! Brilliant! They've been accepted everywhere they've gone, and often travel with trade goods to endear them further to the peoples they travel to. How engenius is this!? It's brilliant! Magnificent!" The elf was so excited that as he spoke, the two men could only smile and eventually burst out laughing watching the animated man.
"My friend, you flatter us too much. We go where we must and will return to our homelands when the time is right. For now, we enjoy the roads and the freedoms it brings. Trading is just additional." Laoman said heartily, his voice was raspy as though he had spent many nights near the bonfires.
Wynessa was about to comment when a rousing thunder of whooping and hollering turned her head to watch the two brides locked passionately together as they made their way towards a decorated tent away from the caravans. The blush that covered her face only deepened as she turned back to look at the men who smiled knowingly.
"I have never known that kind of love from a woman. I am not at all against such an encounter, but it isn't what I'm used to." She explained quickly. Her voice rose as she spoke in embarrassment at her revelation. A hand pushed a drink into her own and before she could thank the person she was told firmly by both the fathers present to drink.
"I told her that if she wanted to earn such a woman as Morgana, my darling would have to truly win her heart, and that's exactly what she did. Now, two such beautiful women will forever have their love to share as well as bringing two families together as one." Mochael spoke passionately about his daughter and new daughter-in-law, clasping a hand on Laoman's shoulder.
"My friend, Milaya was always worthy of my daughter, but I am so glad they agree." The raspy voice responded. It was true these men were comfortable around each other, much like brothers reunited.
Wynessa sat leaned against a log by the bonfire, watching the shadows and embers dance amidst the dark starry sky above them. She could no longer make out the stars, but the sliver of the smiling moon shone just bright enough that her fire-weary eyes could still see it. She had somehow been imbibing drinks consistently since being handed the first cup, and a few hours had since passed. Her head felt heavy as the night wore on, and it wasn't long before dawn that she fell asleep.
While she slept, Timias had been conversing diligently with the men in charge, learning as much as he could about their travels and what they had seen. After a few drinks, he was even inclined to ask about the resistance.
"Friend, you should not speak of such things so loudly. There are giants in these woods, even so far as out here. Have you heard of the "Mine Atop the Mountain?" It's near here, we don't dare go that far into the forest." Mochael's voice was dripping with concern and warning as he spoke, but the elf shook his head, not fully understanding and possibly too drunk to say more, so the elder continued. "It is a place where the cruelest giants conduct horrific experiments and tortures on us folks. They say a Warlock reigns there, but if that is so, it must be from the shadows. The General who runs the place is made with such hatred in her black heart that nothing but madness and cruelty comes forth from her."
"But not all giants are bad!" Timias insisted. Quickly, the other men scoffed at such an idea.
"No, some are worse than bad. Some eat the feet off of children and then drop them into their mother's arms. Some of them rape humans and elves for the fun of the screams. Those of us who are taken as slaves most often end up on top of the mountain. Even the resistance have not been able to free anyone from there. It's too dangerous. Everyone who goes there becomes disfigured as soon as they arrive to mark them forever. They put you to work as soon as you can hold a pick or carry a stone. There are children up there who have never known anything else." One of the men spoke with such urgency, such emotion, that Timias was thrown into imagining what he said, the images of footless children, screaming bloody women, all of it scared him so badly he had to sit down.
All colour had fled from his face as he heard of these atrocities, unknowing that his dear friends, his traveling companions, were proof otherwise.