by Amanda Milo
I scanned the area before stopping in front of a decent sized scraggle bush. I handed ...the... Gryfala my dagger with the widest blade. She blinked at it, forehead wrinkling.
I took it back, and crouched to demonstrate; I dug a little pit, made a gesture, then used the flat to shove a mound of sand over the hole.
She nodded. I slowly gave her my back because I knew now that she preferred privacy, and it also blocked her from view of the wagoneers.
“Yurr tern.”
We switched places.
When we made it back to the wagon, it was to line up for the use of the wash basin. Water being the precious commodity that it was out here, it wasn’t changed between hands. I guided her to stand before me in line. The family urged her to be the very first – then they tittered and curtsied when she demurred and with red marked cheeks motioned for them to proceed before her.
Last to the bowl, I dunked my hands into the grey, sludgy brew and used the rough bar of soap to scrub up. I nodded to the wagoneer, who only glowered at me. Apparently, his wife had shared with him the details of the scene she walked in on. With a grimace, I steered the Gryfala to the wagon steps.
Despite having woken up such a short time ago, I could use a few more hours of rest. Hopefully, spent equally pleasant too. My arms full of her warm softness? It had been wonderful.
Addictive.
Wagon rolling along once more, I leaned back on the floor, using my arms to prop up my head. I looked at her.
A dirt smear on her cheek. Dress wrinkled and falling off one shoulder. Her hair was a bit tangled.
I felt the great muscles behind my ribs spasm.
I ignored them.
I patted my chest. “Please. Come here.”
She did without hesitation. The gratified feeling racing through my chest was irrational. I wasn’t gentling her; I wasn’t. She wasn’t meant to be mine. This only scratched the surface of what her hobs would do for her, and since they weren’t here, their duties simply became mine. Temporarily.
I paused, hands going still on her for a blink. By that reasoning, for the time being, she WAS mine. MINE. I would not get to stay with her…
Unless she chose me.
I bit back a growl. My feelings weren't right. What would I do when she was reunited with her hobs? Even if she chose me, added me to her guard, what would I do when she sent me to the corner, my duty to watch while other males-
Her hand on my throat, testing the rumbling vibrations there, made me realize I was growling.
I needed to regain my calm. I swallowed, noting again the odd sensation in my mouth, and when her fingers began skipping over my scales, first tapping all the ones currently blue, then the ones reflecting yellow-
I liked her. If she weren’t a Gryfala…
But she was.
If I was a hob…
But I wasn’t.
For now though, I was here. I was the only being keeping her safe. That meant she was my charge. My Gryfala charge. And, I reminded myself; was it so wrong to think of her as mine as long as I remembered that this was all temporary?
Nothing wrong with temporarily being mine. Nothing. Because it was only temporary.
It was easy enough to say. Therefore, I repeated it over and over until I didn’t feel any guilt at all for acting above my station and rubbing up and down her back, and crooning to her as I worked the knots from her mane.
She snuggled her face right over the steady thump of my hearts and made a contented noise in her sleep.
I hoped to heaven’s gate that she made it home safe soon.
I didn’t want to be the first Rakhii in my family that had to be broken from a Gryfala.
6
ANGIE
I woke up sprawled on top of my really, really, well-muscled alien. It was amazing how much I didn’t feel freaked out when I looked at him now.
When our eyes met, I gave him a sleepy smile. He leaned forward, necessitating my hands planting themselves on his chest so that I could stay atop him. He rolled upward, abs crunching deliciously, and his face came nearer to mine slowly, so slowly.
He returned the smile.
“You’re the warmest, most comfortable mattress I have ever slept on, you know. And you smell fantastic today. I’m not being sarcastic; somehow, you really do. Not fair. I probably smell like something you'd find in the bottom of a swamp.” I grimaced, and watched his eyes move over my face, following my expression with rapt focus. He was so attentive! I sighed happily. “But even so, you’re starting to really grow on me,” I told him.
He brought his hand up to my cheek.
It made me remember earlier, when it was like we had this moment… for a second there, I could have sworn this alien had been about to kiss me.
And now…
His hand cupped my face - and added just enough pressure to move my lips closer to his.
Was he… Was he really about to-
Of course, that’s the moment when the mother of the alien kids chose to appear.
Not again!
She made an outraged squawking sound.
My alien groaned. “Pnah, zhay rutt nsk hutg!”
‘Look, this isn’t what it looked like,’ or maybe ‘I swear, I didn’t touch her.’ Yeah. Even I could tell, this didn’t look good. I carefully moved from his lap, stretching. The woman shot me a worried look, then handed me a small tray of food.
I noticed though that she didn’t have one for my alien. And my plate of food was pretty tiny; as in, just enough for me. And he’d eaten his rat yesterday. (Which was good, because it had started to smell a bit funky.) My alien rubbed his face with his hands. I sank cross-legged on the floor and rubbed his leg in commiseration. “It’s sort of super for her to look out for me.” I nudged the tray of food towards him. “But we’re gonna have fun splitting this now.”
He looked offended. He nudged it back, but reached over to pick up the spoon and scoop up the sludge for me. I was going to hope it was oatmeal or porridge. I stared at it. Maybe it was both. Orridge. Or Idgemeal. It looked and smelled as awful as both those name ideas sounded.
It didn’t taste much better.
I tried to feed myself, but his expression turned frosty. It was kind of adorable. The wagon stopped just as I was pushing the bowl to him saying, “All done, you better take it.” He didn’t look like he believed I was full. I wasn’t. But he tipped the bowl back and swallowed it all down.
Impressive. Because I was pretty sure if the rocking of the wagon made it slosh around in my stomach for a second longer, I’d be bringing it back up right now. Idgemeal was not my favorite.
We repeated the bathroom routine. Washed hands in cold water. My alien grasped my upper arm and examined my goose bumps. He rubbed on them until they went away despite me trying to explain that I was fine.
The mother watched him. And when we filed back into the wagon, she popped the flap back to toss me a furry hide, and then she dropped a hunk of bread in front of my alien before leaving without a word – which I wouldn’t have understood anyway, but still. Cold alien shoulder to him, clearly.
He tried to offer me the bread, but I made him eat it. He was so big. I cocked my head, eyeing him critically. He was going to need way more food than what we were getting here. We’d have to break off soon from this family and …what? What was going to happen now? I didn't know. And I couldn’t exactly ask him about it, language barrier and all.
I shrugged - an action that he observed with interest. I had nothing but time, right? I scooted closer to him.
I pointed to myself. “Angie.”
His mouth full of bread, he startled. “Eh?”
I pointed to myself again. “Angie. Angie.”
I pointed to his chest. Raised my eyebrows.
His lips quirked. He swallowed the bread in one gulp. Eyes never breaking connection, he said, “Arokh.”
“Arokh?”
He repeated it, slowly exaggerating the click at the end and I tried my best to copy it.
He started to nod sideways, paused, shrugged, then nodded like, ‘Sure. Close enough.’
I smiled ruefully.
“Ahhhngee?” Click.
“Annngee.”
“Anngee.” His throat moved as he clicked his tongue over the ‘ie’ sound.
“Interesting. Yeah, why not? Arokh, and Angie.”
He looked very pleased at this.
I pointed to the hide. “Pelt?”
“Dupin.”
He leaned towards me, and fingered the edge of my dress, tugging it up to cover my shoulder. “Treht.”
For some reason, I thought we’d exchange words, but I began following his lead to repeat after him, learning his. I was, after all, the real alien here. He was a patient teacher, which was a good thing because as it happened, I was not a great clicker, apparently a key sound for his language.
We ran out of items and features of the back of the wagon to point to so I began pointing out body parts. He didn’t seem as shocked-fascinated like I was about our differences. His legs were especially interesting, with his knee bending the same direction as a human – but then very different from a human, it moved into an exaggerated ‘heel’ which, when standing upright, was raised off the ground, sort of like a dog. He toes were thick and wedge shaped, resembling a Rhino’s, but finer, so much more elegant, with bone and muscle just under the skin rather than rolls of rubbery-looking tissue.
We ran out of items to name. Feeling rested, yet with nothing to do, and without a lamp, or a flashlight, it was getting dark fast back in our part of the wagon and very, very boring. Finally sick of my fidgeting, I guess, he pushed me into the crook of his arm and told me to “oosaka”.
Sleep. Got it. Yay.
When I sighed, the sound of his chuckle warmed my whole body.
The next day, we parted ways with the wagoneers. Each little one acted like the hugs I gave them were the greatest gifts ever - until I passed out flowers that Arokh had picked for me on our way back from the ‘bathroom’. They squealed and their parents beamed like I’d handed out something far grander than weeds.
And then we walked. We walked and walked and walked until my shins felt like they were going to snap, and my feet were sore, and my hips ached, and my calves were twitching, and- Okay, okay. I had a whole list to whine about. I needed to prioritize so as not to bore myself with my catalog of complaints – let alone Arokh, who took in my quiet grumbling with mounting concern.
Whenever he looked at me in worry, I gave a very long-suffering sigh and some variation of a promise to; “I’ll stop complaining. For real this time. I’m fine.”
He grunted like he didn’t quite believe me.
When I stumbled, his arms were suddenly scooping me up, and holding me securely against his brawny, scaled self. My body was simultaneously protesting and exhilarated; my muscles screaming all the while being happy for the break.
This place seemed to be one huge auction. I’d think we were going in circles, except that the landscape was subtly changing - and so was the temperature. Arokh managed to find us yet another mostly-empty sale barn with a well bedded stall. I wasn’t much fonder of them than I had been before, but I was so damn tired of walking. He had to be feeling exhausted too. Any place to rest was better than trying to trudge on. He kicked shavings over some offal in the corner, and bedded us down on the other side. It was dry and cushier to sleep on than a wagon floor, but the shavings might have been infested with alien critters.
Arokh bent his head to scratch at his back (using the tip of his horn!) for the third time.
I leaned forward and scritched the spot he couldn’t quite reach.
He rolled with a long, loud sigh, clearly in the throes of bliss. When he ended up on his stomach, I straddled his back and begin to scratch his scales thoroughly. Why not? It wasn’t like there was a bunch else to do. And I wanted to do something nice for him after he kept me as comfortable and fed as he could, and protected my very life and all.
As his groans of ecstasy rumbled from his chest and set off a tremolo against my very bones, I reflected that I had a couple hundred pounds of sheer muscle and maleness between my legs, and it was nice. Reassuring, as far as it could be here, anyway. This big guy made me feel safe – he kept me safe, as safe as he was able.
It was seriously giving me all the feels. Over… an… alien?
When my hands eased off with their scratching, he rolled slowly enough that I could shift to stay on top of him, and when he was on his back, looking up at me with this serious, suddenly intense expression - his nostrils flared.
It reminded me of all the paranormal romance books I’d read, where the shifter/vampire can smell arousal.
I snorted. Ridiculous.
When he suddenly tugs my legs I startle, but he just gives me a gentle smile and begins massaging my aching calves. Whoa. Ooooh like that, yes just like that. It’s like Ow and Awesome mixed together, my legs hurt so badly and love it so much. Commence turning into living jelly. I groan. “Wow, Arokh, don’t stop…”
His ears twitch as he listens to my moaning. Then he digs into the soles of my feet until I almost melt off of him; yes, melt. My body has turned liquid. This makes him shift quickly to brace his hands at my hips, and once there, his big fingers begin rotating into the tight muscles of my lower back.
Boneless. I can’t keep my eyes open. With a hand pressed to my back he gently guides me to rest against his chest.
Gosh, this guy is just the best, I think as I fall asleep.
7
AROKH
She is falling asleep and trusting me – me, a lowly, lone gladiator - implicitly with her safety.
I also couldn’t fail to notice that she was beginning to initiate contact more and more. Every time she touched me voluntarily, I brutally attempted to quell a flash of satisfaction.
She was either too young to know she was chemically altering us, or she was consciously choosing to connect - to strongly connect - us together. I wasn’t above being grateful even for the former, but I wanted to rub my temples across her shoulders, her belly, at the mere thought of the latter.
It was calling something inside me, stirring instincts a gladiator isn’t supposed to have. Not for one of her kind. Today marked the first day that I felt the thrumming in my soul.
I nuzzled her neck as I inhaled her scent. The thrumming came even stronger; so did the yearning to keep her as close as possible.
To think that my growing devotion to her was a danger…
It didn't feel like it should be a bad thing.
It didn't feel wrong.
Pressure built up in my chest as I tried not to let myself dwell on her future without me. And failed.
The next morning was chilly enough to have me worrying about my Gryfala. But the market was bustling and she was watching the food options with interest. I halted when she gave a sharp sort of chirp. I tried to find what had caught her attention.
A cheatig vendor. I let her lead me to his cart, and for once it was easy to keep pace since her steps were extra hurried. When we reached his stand, she was nearly bouncing on the balls of her feet. She excitedly pointed to the bounty, exclaiming something that sounded like “Oh Emm Gee ahhn Apuul!”
She made a move to take one but I got there first, inspecting the bruised fruit carefully, setting aside the spoiled ones until I uncovered a decent specimen.
I picked it up and offered it to her from my hand. She gave me an exasperated smile but took the one I held out, sniffed it, then bit into it…
and looked very disappointed.
She made a face, before looking around hurriedly, pushing out her tongue as if she was going to spit her mouthful out. I snatched the cheatig away from her and brought it to my snout. It smelled fine. I bit into it; bitter and flakey as always.
“It doesn’t taste soured.” I said and handed it back to her.
She stared at it between her palms, a line forming between her brows. “Yew knoo? Beck huume thee Hunnee Crisp apuul is in
seesun. I luff Hunnee Crisps. And now I ehm meesing out. Eye’ll nefur see tem agin. Nefur see anee uff it agin, weel I?”
I looked at her. “I take it that wasn’t quite what you thought it was.”
Then I saw the tear that rolled over the round of her cheek that I knew for a fact was softer than feather-down; I watched the tear tremble at the edge of her chin.
I grabbed her to me. “What is wrong, sweetling?” I cast a baffled look to the cheatig vendor.
He was all but wringing the life out of his smock as he stared in horror at my Angie’s upset state. “We sell the best in all of the planet, I swear, gladiator.”
I nodded unhappily, and reached for the satchel at my waist so I could dig out his coin.
“No, no, I won’t hear of it.” He said firmly, still not looking at me. And his next words were to Angie. “My deepest apologies.” He gave a small bow.
Angie choked.
I patted her back, and now the vendor was really beside himself. “Here, please, take a wafaa leaf. Maybe that will be more to your liking!”
Angie blinked and rapidly tried to swipe under her eyes before she hesitantly accepted the leaf from him. Her furred face ridges were nearly touching as she tickled the palm of her hand with the feathery pink tuft at the top.
Then slowly, instead of biting it, she raised it to her ear and tucked it into her locks, as if it were a hair adornment. She gave the vendor a tremulous smile that seemed to ease him.
“You honor me, Your Highness! Acting as if it were a prized flower, pah!” He shook a finger at her and winked.
One side of her mouth quirked up hesitantly. Then she put her hand in mine. As we turned away, her stomach growled, and I realized just how much her still-hungering state upset me when my spines unconsciously raised and began to shake menacingly. I looked around, noting that on this rock, the best foods available to us weren’t even close to what she would enjoy again once I could get her home. I had to get her home. I had to. She deserved so much better than this place.
People pointed to her wafaa leaf as we meandered through the market, and by the end of the day other women were wearing them on their own heads. She was unaware she was inspiring fashion. In this place. Princess emulation. I shook my head, thinking that vendor was probably counting his blessings right now; he was making a fortune today because of Angie.
