The Reeve Amidst The Green (18) Carefully Chosen Language

“Never tell a Randishman anything you wouldn’t tell the King of Rand,” Arnuvel’s father had said, once. It had been sound advice. Arnuvel had had a Randish manservant during his tour of duty on the Randish border, and it seemed that Randishmen came entirely in two sorts: the ones who felt their king was a tyrant and fled into Marzenie to leave their bondage behind and get good paying work… and the ones who were savagely loyal to the King of Rand and all he stood for, and had no issues pretending to be the first sort, either to gather information to report to their Crown, or simply get close enough to slit a Marzenian throat – the higher ranking, the better.

Arnuvel had liked the manservant in question. He’d been a pleasant sort, eager to please, efficient, clever, witty, and with an endless supply of filthy jokes. But he’d known better than to trust the fellow. You never knew where you stood with a Randishman, all the way up to the point where the bugger quit breathing. For all that the Randishmen were human, they all seemed to fall into those two molds.

Goblins, on the other hand, were all over the place. He’d met some who were in behavior quite strange and alien, others nearly human, a few who’d married humans, some who were merchants, some who were artisans, and some who still dressed in skins and hunted wild game with bows. Arnuvel wasn’t quite sure what to do or think about goblins, as a whole. Not yet. Xygag’s Bestiary plainly was woefully outdated about goblins, and that’s where it wasn’t blatantly wrong. It didn’t help that he had rather liked the specimens he’d so far met; they seemed no worse than men, in most respects, and not even all that different from them, once you became acquainted with their ways. They were more varied than Randishmen, and certainly no worse.

Wanna, for example. He had known Wanna a week, and was already quite impressed with her. Wanna was the sort of housekeeper who made you wonder what you’d do without her within the first week. More than that, Wanna had been Arnuvel’s window into goblin thought, goblin folkways, goblin politics, and recent goblin history. Wanna was worth a thousand Xygag’s Bestiaries, thank you, and the Bestiary wouldn’t set you up with a ham steak or a fish fillet with rice, or a goblin style salad with spinach greens instead of lettuce. She’d been apologetic about not knowing human cuisine well, but had tried to learn, and had filled in the gaps with goblin spices and goblin dishes, to the point where Arnuvel wondered if anyone in either town was eating better than he did.

Arnuvel had come to look forward to returning to the lodge at the end of the day. Dinner was always something to enjoy and learn from.

***************************

Wanna, after a week, was starting to feel that she was getting an idea of who this Arnuvel man was. He was strangely formal, yet often quite candid and casual, particularly when it was just the two of them. He was endlessly curious about goblin ways and culture, as well as for news and information about what was going on in both Refuge and Goblin Town. There’d never been any issue in coming up with dinner conversation.

When asked about his own past, he’d tried to explain. It wasn’t easy to follow. Human culture in this Capitol place was quite different from anything Wanna knew, although she was coming to understand bits of it. “Aristocracy,” for example, was a status thing. Wanna understood status. In goblin society, you did the right thing, or you lost status. But as far as Wanna could follow, the “aristocracy” was a form of status you couldn’t lose, regardless of your behavior. And, weirdly enough, Arnuvel seemed aware of this. He didn’t condone it, but he seemed to think it was simply the way of things, and that there were two sorts of “aristocrats” – the sort who felt they had the right to do as they pleased, and the sort who felt that status was earned, and that one should be worthy of it.

Wanna wondered what kept these humans from killing each other. At least Arnuvel seemed to be the second sort; she’d heard stories about the previous reeve, who had seemed to be of the first sort. But Arnuvel seemed concerned with his own behavior, and with knowing goblin ideas about behavior and politeness. It spoke well of him. And dinner conversation was always pleasant and stimulating; she enjoyed it, more than she had enjoyed her interactions with the Greenwoods, who had been pleasant enough, but less personal. It made sense. They both lived here. They might as well know each other. It worked for Wanna. It filled her mind with things to think about, and the house was filled with things that needed doing, and it all kept the Grief Devil at bay.

And then Arnuvel had done the thing.

Dinner had been braised beef tips, a thing the human butcher had recommended, served in gravy over rice, with roasted feather-roots in butter, and Arnuvel had found it delightful, although he’d been a bit confused about the feather-roots. Apparently, humans called them carrots, a thing that Wanna made a note to remember. They’d eaten together in the kitchen and made the usual conversation. Events in town, events in Goblin Town, and then Arnuvel had taken the little box out of his doublet and had put it on the table in front of her.

“You’ve been tremendously helpful, Wanna,” he said. “Since I came here, I have had to learn everything I could about a whole new culture, a whole new people, in addition to learning about the town and the people of Refuge. I couldn’t have done this without you. You’ve taken good care of me. I’d like you to have this, as a little token of my appreciation.”

Wanna’s interest had been piqued, and she’d put down the fork and picked up the little box and lifted the lid. Inside were a pair of gold hoop earrings, each set with a chip of amethyst. Wanna recognized them as goblin work, the sort of things Mogga the jeweler made in her little stall in the Goblin Market. Arnuvel had gone to the Market? Again? Just to get her earrings?

Wanna realized that Arnuvel was watching her. “Oh,” she said. “Thank you. They’re beautiful,” with her manners running on autopilot, and her brain racing in a dozen directions at once.

“I am told that earrings are a gift that show that one values another person,” Arnuvel said with a smile. “And you are indeed a treasure.”

Wanna heard the words, and processed them, and her brain raced. “Thank you,” she repeated. And then, not sure what else to say, she said, “Do you want me to heat the water for your bath now?”

Arnuvel smiled. “If you’re done with dinner, and you’re up to it, yes, that would be delightful,” he said. “I could stand to wash away the day’s cares.”

Arnuvel had retired to his room, and Wanna had filled the metal buckets from the pump, and mechanically put them on the stove, and added stovelengths to the firebox while her mind was a million miles away. What did this mean? Earrings? Is this a thing humans do? Is he courting me? He has interest in me? He values me? Of course he values you, idiot, he said that much. What madness is this? He’s known you a week!

Wanna sat down and waited for the wood to catch, in the firebox. She opened the box again, and looked at the earrings. They were beautiful, and they weren’t cheap. No one’s given me earrings since Isho died, she thought. But now a human has given me earrings. He values me. But… does he know what this means? What it implies? What do I think of this human, anyway?

Wanna thought about Arnuvel in a new light. He wasn’t bad looking. He did insist on wearing that odd stripe of fur under his nose, but, well, weird human thing. But… he wasn’t bad looking, for a human. He was certainly of high status. And suddenly, she remembered her daughter Voo in the arms of the human Boy Daggett, enjoying his touch, his smell, and the joy and pleasure of the moment. And Wanna remembered how it made her feel, seeing this. “Well, I like to fuck,” Voo had said.

Wanna felt her skin flush, her heart beat faster, and, dammit, her nipples harden. She blinked a few times, and shook her head. Yes. Yes, I am horny. I am not dead. One can travel the Tunnel, one can wrestle the Grief Devil, and in time, one can be horny again. Well, that’s good to know. And one can be horny for the human Arnuvel, even. Because he values me. And stop it, Wanna, you’re a woman grown, and here you are getting all weak kneed because a man gives you a pair of pretty earrings? What are you, fourteen?

Wanna felt her ear-tips grow warm, and she was aware of the sound of fabric on skin. She could hear Arnuvel shedding his doublet, his tunic, his trousers. She heard the sound of boots coming off five-toed feet, and knew he was stripping down for his bath. She knew he’d be in the little dressing room with the toilet, waiting, perhaps naked, perhaps with a towel wrapped around him. And she wondered what it would be like, to be held with his long arms, to know the touch of five fingered hands, feel his lips on her, and to part herself for a human cock.

This is stupid. How do I know he even really wants me? A month ago, he’d never even seen a goblin. How do you know he’s not just being polite?

Feel how you feel, Mother, Voo had said. Wanna felt how she felt. And how she felt was … horny, dammit. That wretched human lit a fire, whether he knew what he was doing or not. And speaking of fires, the water is heating. Time to see about filling that tub. Will he be in his dressing room? Or waiting at the tub, wearing his towel? Will he want me to get in with him? Would he be that forward about it? And if he asked… would I?

Oh, stop it, she thought to herself.

But she didn’t stop thinking. Who do I know that I can talk to about this? I need an expert on human behavior. Preferably a goblin. Preferably someone who I know won’t spread the word. Hm. Flor and Adii don’t know humans… who else would keep their mouths shut? Voo would never let me hear the end of it, and Veen… well… Veen doesn’t know much about humans…

Wanna blinked. She was going to have to talk to her eldest daughter. About sex. And about humans.

***************************

Charli strode in the back door, mopped the sweat off his brow with a rag, and drew himself a beer from the barrel in the kitchen. He carried the beer into the living room and sat in the big overstuffed chair. He glanced around the room. Shuffa had been anxious to pay him back for his kindness, and had gone a little crazy cleaning the house and washing dishes for him, in the time since they’d plowed her field and helped her plant. She’d drifted back and forth between Charli’s farmhouse and her wickiup all week; aside from weeding, she had little to do on her own plot. Charli hadn’t had to wash a dish in a week, and had noted that someone had cleaned out the fireplace two days previous.

It didn’t help that Oddri insisted that Shuffa stay for meals. Oddri had seen what Shuffa was eating out there, on her plot; it consisted mainly of various roots, herbs, some nuts and seeds, and some jerky she’d brought with her from wherever she’d come from. Shuffa had said that she was good, foraging in the nearby woods, but Oddri wasn’t having any of this, insisting that they would eat at least a meal a day together. “To be social,” was how Oddri had put it.

Charli took a long pull on his beer and grinned. Oddri liked the idea of “social.” Ogres weren’t normally very social, but now Oddri had a place to be with a human in it, and now, it seemed, she was looking to collect a goblin, too. Charli grinned to himself, and took another drink of beer. He’d gotten an eyeful of what that goblin had on display, that time in the river. Gotten a handful of it too, after Oddri’d carried her to the house. He'd rubbed her down with the mint liniment, knowing she had to be sore as a boil, not being used to all that work. Charli hadn’t done anything else. Charli didn’t even want to think about hurting Oddri’s feelings, and it wasn’t like Oddri wasn’t plenty of woman for him, no sir! But Shuffa did have some definite assets in her favor. Wonder why she ain’t married? Charli thought. Don’t goblin women marry pretty young?

It had just begun to occur to him to wonder where Oddri was when he felt as much as heard her deep bass giggle, from somewhere outside the house. Sounded like between the house and barn. Maybe Oddri was in the trough. He’d put together a new watering trough, a considerably bigger one than the farm needed, but this was one big enough for an ogre to bathe in. The sound of splashing water confirmed it; she was in the trough. Why hadn’t she come and got him? Charli drained the last of the beer from his mug, rose, and walked to the window and pushed the curtains open.

Reclining in the trough was Oddri, leaning her head back onto the edge of the trough, her arms flopped out on either side, the picture of wet relaxation. The surprise, though, was that Shuffa was in the trough with her, standing over her, with one foot on either side of Oddri’s hips. Washing Oddri’s breasts.

Charli blinked.

Shuffa was thigh deep in the water, and glistening wet, and stark naked, her lovely slick green behind in plain view, as she splashed water up on Oddri’s chest, and, as Charli watched, took one of Oddri’s breasts… nearly the size of Shuffa’s own head… and slowly licked the nipple.

Oddri giggled. Smiling, Shuffa ran the tip of a pointed chartreuse tongue in circles around the nub of Oddri’s nipple, drawing a returned smile from Oddri.

Charli stood there, watching the show. And Oddri noticed him. And turned her head, and smiled at Charli. Shuffa noticed this, and turned, and smiled at Charli too.

And they both beckoned him to come out and join them.

Charli stood there for a moment, his brain locked up in overload. Kinda early in the day for a bath, ain’t it? some part of his mind threw out there.

Shut the fuck up, said another part, and, taking control of Charli’s legs, that part began to maneuver him towards the back door.

By the time he got out the back door and to the trough, the picture had changed; now Oddri had hooked her heels over the sides of the great trough as well as her elbows; her legs from the knees down were above water, as was her torso above the navel. Lying on her torso in a most distracting pose was the nude Shuffa, looking pleasantly at Charli with bright yellow eyes. The overall picture was one to disrupt rational thought in most men, and Charli was no exception. He did notice that neither Oddri’s nor Shuffa’s hair was wet, though. Apparently, they’d just got in… or hadn’t been bathing so much as they had simply been putting on a show.

“Want a bath?” said Oddri, with a giggle.

“Um,” said Charli. “I … might wait a bit on that…”

“Then why did you come out?” asked Shuffa, smiling.

“Um,” said Charli. “Cause when two pretty naked girls want you to come outside, you, um, come outside?”

“He doesn’t want to take his clothes off,” said Oddri.

“Why is that?” said Shuffa, glancing up at Oddri. “I’ve seen him naked before.”

“’Cause his pecker is hard, now,” said Oddri. “He is too polite.”

Bracing herself on one elbow, Shuffa rose slightly to lie on her side, draped across Oddri’s body. The contrast was something to see, and was giving Charli fits. Oddri’s black hair and soft terra-cotta coloring, contrasted with Shuffa’s dark green hair and rich emerald green coloring and so much wet skin in two different shades and gods, those two are pushin’ me over the edge…

“I think he is afraid he will hurt your feelings, Oddri,” said Shuffa. “I think he likes to look at me, like he likes to look at you. I think he’d like to do something about it. But he doesn’t want to upset his big beautiful farm girl.”

“But what if Oddri is not upset?” said Oddri, fixing Charli with her big dark eyes. “What if Shuffa is lonely? Shuffa would like to be happy, too. And Charli will still want Oddri, I think. Charli likes Oddri, a lot.” Oddri stopped, and rolled her eyes in thought. “And Oddri would like to watch. That sounds fun.”

And both women fixed Charli with soulful gazes.

Charli did, to his credit, hesitate. Briefly. And then, again, his trousers were halfway off by the time his shirt hit the ground.

https://www.newgrounds.com/dump/draw/7c627b1f22bfe69718d4e44f1bca9010

Back to the first half of the chapter:https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinGirls/comments/1013t2r/the_reeve_amidst_the_green_18_first_12_of_chapter/

First half of Chapter 19!

https://www.reddit.com/r/GoblinGirls/comments/102q869/the_reeve_amidst_the_green_19_foreign_tongues/