4 comments/ 9161 views/ 2 favorites The Fair Fortune of Ned the Ugly By: MongolSamurai The day I met Tori is probably something I'll always remember. I was traveling the Argyle Highway (so called for the unusual configuration of cobblestones requested by the geomancer in charge of the project) towards the west, the direction in which all things tend to travel. I was alone, just wandering the countryside from town to town, when I heard a bellow in the distance and looked up to see a cloak-clad minotaur charging at me from around a bend in the road before me. Thinking I was beset by marauders, I reached to draw my sword and was most upset to recall that I'd lost it in a game of dice two nights before, to some weasly fellow who I was now certain had been cheating. I looked up with a sense of very immediate forboding, and prepared my groveling face. My apparent assailant drew rapidly closer and moments later pulled up short before me. Looking up, I was surprised to readily recognize that this was a female before me (and a rather attractive one, at that), and struck dumb when she smiled cheerfully at me and and announced in stumbling Orcish, "Greetings! I am a peace offering from the elders of the stone-skull clan, who send their humble respects!" I thought she must have failed to properly dictate her message, until she pulled her robe open to show me her heaving peace offerings, right at the level of my eyes. I am not the luckiest of men, the gods saw fit to grace me with an extra helping of body hair, and oversized ears flanking an exceedingly round head, perched on a neck as thick as a tree trunk. Prettier men often curse me for being ogre-blooded, and while I always swear them off I wonder if had I known my parents, might I not take the idea more seriously. At any rate, I don't see fit to complain about my lot in life, but if my eyesore features aren't enough, my most truly ogrish feature (it's like the gods were compensating for everything else and went overboard with the man-bits) do a good job of affording me many more opportunities to admire the backside of the fairer sex than any of their other angles--mostly while they're running out the door. But here I was, in the presence of what I had to admit was the most comely minotaur woman I'd ever heard of. To be fair, I didn't know minotaurs even came in the female variety. And if I understood correctly (I was pretty sure that I did) she was making an offering of herself to me. I suppose my prolonged silence (and staring at her chest) was misinterpreted, because after a moment she shifted uncomfortably and her smile vanished. "Is something wrong? Please, I got lost on the way and I have been running for two days. If you will not have me, I have failed my clan. I am ready to serve you however you please!" Feeling vaguely suspicious, I nevertheless dared to wonder if perhaps the gods were rewarding me for my grudging good-naturedness. Silently thankful that I spoke Orcish, I muttered "Hell yes, I'll have you...." in the common tongue under my breath and looked up, only to see her crack an excited smile "Oh, you speak Mirish!" I began to correct her, then brushed it off. Every little kingdom from the Cradle of the Sun to the western cliffs claimed their own tongue, and travelers like myself just learned to ignore the fact that it was all, in fact, the same language. The local patriots generally took exception when they thought you were taking away their national identity, even when it wasn't theirs to claim in the beginning. It hardly seemed wise to test if minotaurs felt the same about it. "Sure I do. Odd thing for you to address someone in orcish first, 'specially with you not being an orc. And just as odd to be running down the highway wearing nothing but a leather cloak. I suppose you could toss any bandits fool enough to assault you clear across the highway, but even a girl of your size must get cold...?" She shrugged, and I took careful note of the bounce of her firm, round breasts, and the lesser bounce of the heavy brass rings she wore through her exceptionally large nipples. A third, matching ring hung from her septum, and her tongue flicked at it idly while her eyes lowered to her own form. "It's not so bad if you keep moving. And anyways, I'm wearing a loin cloth." I scoffed, and retorted "Not much of one... A stiff breeze would show me your promised land, there." I gestured towards her nethers. Her eyes went wide at that, and she asked innocently "Do you want to see it?" She hastily tucked the skimpy scrap of modesty into the string holding it up, providing me with a complete and unabridged view of her biological features. She shifted suddenly as if impatient, and continued "At any rate, I'm ready whenever you are. If you need to talk to your... men, or whoever... I will wait for you." Puzzled, I eyed her with that same suspicion I felt, like perhaps this was some kind of trick. "Ready for what?" "Sex, of course. I am my clan's most beautiful, and I've been sent to serve your pleasure." She made her words sound like a proclamation, clearly proud of her status. "What, right here in the road?" She shrugged "Unless you have a tent set up...?" I looked around demonstratively, and shrugged. "No tent, no men..." I gestured towards the base of a large oak tree off the side of the road, which was surrounded with a thick grass that looked likely to be more comfortable than a lumpy, ill-maintained cobblestone road. She threw her leather cloak down and lay on it, her legs curled under her, and gave me an inviting look, something which I'd never been privy to in this situation. I dropped my small pack and undressed myself with all reasonable haste, taking the time to really look her over. Her breasts were lovely, shapely and full, and her skin was an even golden tan, giving way to a delicate pink in her tender places. Her face was framed in a tumble of wavy yellow hair that looked remarkably well-groomed, not the least bit tangled or laden with debris. The golden riot was pierced by a pair of long, sharp horns protruding straight out to each side from just behind her temples. The absurdity of the notion stuck with me, but I didn't care--I was going to make it with a minotaur, and a right sexy one, and the working stiffs in the next town didn't ever need to know. Her face actually lit up when I slid off my pants, it didn't take me long to figure out that being (I estimated) close to eight feet tall, she might be just the woman to appreciate the one good thing I had too much of. I pushed her loincloth out of the way, and we spent the next half hour amidst much grunting, swearing, praying, and agreeing, and much to my surprise, she cut loose with an enthusiastic "MmmoooOOOOOoo!" when she reached her climax. Despite her odd mannerisms, it was every bit as rewarding an experience as I had hoped, and with pride I noted that when we were done, she wore a goofy, satisfied expression. Her eyes closed, she giggled softly, and murmured "I had heard that you're very thorough when it comes to war, but I guess that's not all!" Just like that I realized I might never get another chance with a woman like this, brute or no. Apprehensive, I asked her "How long will you stay?" Her eyes opened and turned towards me. "I'm yours now, warlord. I'll stay with you forever if you'll have it. It would be a token of goodwill between my people and yours." Excitement rose within me and crashed like a wave, then slowly receded as I realized the entirety of what she'd said. Warlord. I considered this for several long moments, during which she began to grow agitated. Finally, I ventured another question. "How long have you been looking for me, then?" She blushed and looked away, slightly embarrassed. "Oh... A few days... Perhaps a week... I was daydreaming when I reached the crossroads and I turned west without noticing, I didn't realize my mistake for a few days and I had to backtrack. The elders told me that you would be the first one I met on the road, I'm glad I found you before you turned north." I'd reached the Argyle Highway just a few days earlier, coming up from a southern road, and had been following a small army of goblinoids on a war campaign. The crossroads she spoke of were a mere half day's march ahead, I'd planned to camp there come nightfall. If she hadn't encountered them, they must have already turned north. Memory returned to me, a rumor I'd heard on the southern road, that the war band was led by a ruthless brute of an ogre. Understandable I supposed how this minotaur would make the association, if she'd never seen a real ogre before. She had missed her intended betrothed, and mistaken me for the ogre tyrant she was sent to meet. I considered the situation, and thought perhaps she had come out the better for her mistake. Regardless, her youthful enthusiasm for her task would be crushed, not to mention her clan identity, if I told her that she had failed and that her clansmen were likely dead by now. And I wasn't sure I could bear the idea of her leaving me for an ogre, even were it the case that her mission was not already failed. It was decided, I supposed, and I gave an inward sigh. I was a warlord now. I climbed to my feet, brushed myself off, and gathered my belongings. "What's your name anyway?" "Tori." I replied "Ned," and immediately wished I hadn't. Tori looked at me, confused. "The elders told me that your name was Hezuul Face-breaker" I cleared my throat, and nodded "Yeah, that's right. I got something caught in my throat. Hezuul." She gave me a funny look, but didn't say anything else about it. Instead she cut loose with an enormous yawn, then glanced down the road. "Where is your army?" Thinking quickly, I replied casually "I ordered them to stay behind me. They're noisy. I'm going to go talk to them, wait here." "Okay." Wandering of down the road, I walked out of view before stepping off the road to relieve myself against a tree, and consider the situation. I felt slightly guilty for deceiving the girl, but I felt fairly certain that if any of the rumors I'd heard about the real Hezuul Face-breaker were true, her respected elders had sold her down the river in hopes of saving their skins. The ogre was wandering the country, pillaging and burning for the joy of destruction, taking no prisoners. It was unlikely that their 'peace offering' was likely to spare the clan if they were in the path of the war band, and Tori's fate surely would have been at least as bad. I heard a soft babble of water somewhere nearby and ventured into the woods, finding a trickling stream I'd missed the last time I passed by. I splashed some water on my face and lingered for a few minutes, before starting back to where I'd left the minotaur. When I found her again, she was dozing softly. Charmed, I watched her for a few moments, then sat beside her on the leather cloak and carefully fingered the thick brass ring threaded through one of her pink nipples. Her eyes fluttered open after a moment, and she rolled flat onto her back and smiled up at me. "You're much nicer than I'd heard. Ogres are supposed to be mean and loud." I shrugged, "Mostly, the people who tell stories about ogres are men, and mostly they're fighting. Fighting men are always mean and loud." That seemed to make sense to her, she nodded and her eyes wandered up towards the treetops, unconcerned by my groping. Reluctantly, I admitted to myself that I should probably be moving on. I wasn't expecting the army to backtrack, there were more places to raid ahead of them than ahead of me, so I meant to camp at the crossroads still. Heaving a gentle sigh, I pulled myself to my feet, and extended a hand to Tori. "We should be moving on." She took my hand with a slightly questioning look, then climbed to her feet without my help. Kneeling, she was not much shorter than I was on my feet. Stepping carefully off her cloak so as not to punch holes in the leather with her hooves, she scooped it up and struggled with it one-handed until I released her other hand. Once she'd gotten the garment on again she took my hand once more, which I decided was alright, even though it made me feel even shorter. "We need to find you some clothes," I said, and she shrugged, and said simply, "Sure." We headed back to the road, hand in hand, and I felt a profound happiness creep over me. After perhaps half an hour of walking, Tori glanced behind us. "You're sure your men are back there? I don't hear a thing." "I told them to piss off," I explained. She didn't press the issue any further. We walked silently after that, until the sun was low in the sky and the crossroads neared. "Let's make camp there," I said, and my new companion just nodded amiably. Following a worn wagon rut off the road we found a clearing obviously meant for camping. In little time I had a small fire crackling cheerfully, and I dug in my pack for dinner. Pulling out some jerky, I stuck a piece in my mouth, and offered some to Tori. She looked at it and blanched slightly. "Wha' w'ong?" I asked around my food. She looked at me sheepishly, and murmured "...I'm a vegetarian." I wondered if she meant that minotaurs were herbivores, or that she had a dietary standard, but I didn't ask. Feeling silly but refusing to show it, I put half the jerky away and fished out some hard tack baked from crushed oats and molasses and some other things I couldn't identify. I hated the stuff, it would be most convenient if she preferred it. She took the biscuit and looked it over. Apparently it was satisfactory, because she smiled and nodded, and took a big bite. "'anks!" "Don'k men'on it," I mumbled in reply, and smiled back at her while we chewed. We finished eating, and I broke the silence first. "I always thought Minotaurs were supposed to have the head of a bull." Tori giggled, "That's just a legend. Aurog, one of our chieftains generations ago, lost his horns in a mating duel, and was so embarrassed he would go into battle wearing the head of the largest bull he could find. Couldn't see a thing, but he couldn't be talked out of it. He died that way--stumbled into a ravine and broke his neck. We still call that ravine Aurog's Fall." We plugged away at making small talk for a little while, but she didn't know much about the world, and I kept having to brush off her questions about my army. Soon enough we gave up, and I started trying to figure out how we were both going to fit in my bedroll. Ultimately we ended up sleeping on her cloak, which was big enough for the two of us, with the bedroll atop us as a blanket. I undressed and slid in beside her, hoping to spoon up against her back in some effort to prove my masculine dominance, but realized quickly that her horns made it impossible not only for her to sleep on her side, but even to share a pillow. Disappointed, I grudgingly settled in at her side, resting my head on her shoulder and draping my arm across her torso. My troubled pride was soothed by the discovery that although her body was amply muscled, her curves were slightly plump, and pleasantly soft. Pulling her a little closer, I suffered my hands to gently trace the contour of her other side while I drifted to sleep. But contrary to my intentions my enthusiasm grew, and she did nothing to discourage my exploration. Before long I was on a tactile adventure across the still-new terrain of her body, exploring her hills and valleys, scaling the mountains of her breasts and daring the warm jungle between her smooth thighs. Her breathing quickened, and before long touching turned to kissing, and our bodies came alive. She drew her legs up against my sides when I shifted to kneel over her, and her loud, lusty cow call rang in my ears when I entered her. Weird though it was, I found it slightly arousing. It must have been the quality of her voice. Her lips were too great a stretch for me, so I settled for nibbling on her breasts, which seemed to suit her just fine. We indulged ourselves in each other for a good long while, until we were both spent and satisfied, then finally settled down again to sleep. The fire had burned down to embers and our skin and bed was damp with sweat, but we were both warm. Sleep came easily then, and I hardly even minded that I was forced to cuddle up at her side like a boy. The next morning I woke early, and rose without waking Tori, who apparently slept like a rock. Wandering off to find some water (and some fresh food, if I were lucky), my mind wandered as well. There was something that had been bothering me about the idea of reaching to the next town, but it wasn't until I was almost back at camp with a full water skin and a few small, tart apples in my pocket that I realized what it was. My traveling was over. I had been wandering for years for lack of any other purpose to my life, hoping I'd fall in the proverbial pot of honey, and here was my honey pot next to the camp fire. The thought left me breathless and more than a little uncertain. What was next? I considered my options silently as I set out the apples and stowed my water skin, and slipped back into bed beside Tori, still clothed but wishing for her warmth. Eventually she woke and sat up slowly, stirring me from my thoughts. I sat up beside her and handed her an apple. "'morning. Breakfast?" She smiled and took the apple, devouring it whole, and stretched. "I guess we better get packed up and get a move on, right?" I shook my head "I don't think we have very far to go today, let's take our time." She caught on quickly to what I was getting at, but we came to a silent agreement that breakfast was more important. I had decided that it even if she really meant to stay with me from now on, it couldn't hurt to take as much advantage of the situation as possible, and I was glad when she did not so much as even tease me about my sexual appetite. After eating she suggested something new, and after I agreed that it sounded like a good idea she found a suitable tree, knelt before it, and bracing herself with one hand she bent over and spread her lips with the other. Positively maddened by her display, I set about getting to know this new side of her with gusto. She grabbed the tree with both hands and urged me on with cries and moans and the occasional moo, and I did my best to reward her guileless generosity. Later in the day we packed up camp, myself with a profound sense of satisfaction and well-being and her with a happy smile. I suspected by now that she was not the brightest color in the sunset, but her personality was absolutely pleasant, and she seemed to be enjoying our new partnership quite as much as I was, so I was more than willing to accept her as she was; horns, hooves, and height didn't make her any less the blond beauty in my eyes. We ventured back out to the road and walked a short way down the road, finally reaching the fateful crossroads. I didn't have much use for crossroads generally, I always traveled west when I could. West was the way the world flowed, and travel was always easier. But today I stopped here, and turned south into the woods. Tori asked where we were going, but I waved her off gently. She would see. After a few minutes of wandering back and forth, we found a clearing that suited me. I dropped my back, and shrugged, looking around. "Here we are." She looked around at the clearing, looked up, and then shrugged. "Where is here?" "Home," I said. "It doesn't look like much I guess, I'll have to build a house." She looked at be dubiously. "That's it? What about all the marauding?" I looked back at her. "Look babe, I've been a lot of places, and seen a lot of trouble. There are a lot of angry men in the world, and the secret most of 'em don't want you to know is that most of the time, all they're really looking for out of life is the right woman and a place to settle down with her." She digested for a second, then a slow smile spread across her face "...so I'm the right woman?" The Fair Fortune of Ned the Ugly I nodded, "You're the best I've ever laid a hand on, you're damn well good enough for me." She did another quick scan of the clearing, and looked a little concerned again. "And this... is the right place?" I shrugged again, and held up my hands. "It might as well be. Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't think either of us fits in very well. I'm not too popular around cities, and most of the civilized races think minotaurs are savage brutes. I didn't even know better until I met you yesterday. I don't care for big crowds much anyway, and out here we can be as loud as we want without bothering no one." I grinned meaningfully at her, and Tori blushed cutely. We spent the day exploring the nearby area, finding a downstream section of the same brook where I'd collected water for breakfast. I guessed it was fed by the trickle I'd stopped at the other morning. Tori found a small stand of fruit trees a quarter mile into the woods, and I set out a few rabbit snares, hoping to have something tasty by dinner. After that I started carrying stones from the brook to the clearing, laying out a basic foundation for a house. Tori tried to help, but I turned her away. Later, when my back was starting to hurt and my arms were tired from the work, I began to think of her rather thick arms, imagining her carrying rocks with ease, but I felt that building houses was a man's job and my ego refused to let me ask for her help. Besides, by then she'd begin working on something else. At length I stopped to rest, asking her what she was doing to hide my exhaustion, and she replied that she was digging a garden. This wasn't something I knew much about, so I shrugged, and watched for a little while, but quickly grew bored, and went back to carrying stones. Finally I could not manage the trip any more, and I asked her opinion about the floor plan which I'd laid out. Her first response was to show me that the doors I'd set were too narrow for her to fit her horns through without turning sideways. I set about trying to rearrange some walls to accommodate her, but this led to other problems, and eventually I was forced to admit that perhaps the hall, parlor, and guest bedroom could be added on later, and that it would be more useful to forget them for now. Things went on in this vein until I had been grudgingly talked down to a simple four-walled, one room cottage. I held out for a split-level floor just on matter of principle (which really only amounted to a raised platform for the bed to sit on), and Tori eventually admitted that it sounded nice and let me have my way. After this, each day began to fade into the next as we found a comfortable routine. Tori slowly developed what I supposed to be a quite respectable vegetable garden with plants she'd scavenged from the woods nearby, and the walls of our home grew taller by the day. The first thing I'd completed was a raised platform graced by the most lavish bed we could figure out how to create with our limited resources, and we made good use of it at least twice a day. Some days when we were feeling more adventurous, we'd take our carnal pleasures against a tree, or in the stream, or out at the crossroads, daring someone to come by and catch us going at it. No one did. My rabbit snares were yielding acceptable results. Tori didn't like to see me kill the little creatures, she thought they were too cute, but she was pleased with the simple clothing I made for her out of their fur. It didn't cover much, rabbits being small, and Tori being rather large, but it kept her pink parts warm and clean, and I thought she looked awfully sexy in a fur-lined halter top and bikini bottom. Months passed and travelers once again began to dare the road. Merchants passed, and stopped occasionally just down the road, and I found that as long as I went alone and in the mornings, they were often willing to trade goods for rabbit furs. We acquired a sturdy hatchet which I sorely needed to finish the roof, clear trees, and cut firewood, and we purchased a pot for cooking, and a spade for Tori's garden, which I had to admit was beginning to produce at a fairly good rate. She seemed to have a green thumb, and I discovered soon after that she was a better cook than I as well. I was happier than I'd been in some time. She was nearly always cheerful, and I was beginning to suspect that I truly loved her. Summer was stretching on, and the oppressive august heat was making us more restless than usual during the night. Our cottage was finished, the roof complete and ready to shelter us come the winter rains. The list of things that needed doing seemed to be growing shorter. I'd been cutting more wood for fires, but I already had more than enough from cutting a narrow path to the road. It was Tori who suggested at length that I use some of the wood to build a shelter where we could put the rest over the winter so it could stay dry for fire-making. I jumped into the project, and finished it in a few short weeks. Still bored, I pondered what else I could build. One morning, as I was heading out to the camp pullout to see if there were any merchants camped, it dawned on me that I could build a canopy at the edge of the clearing where our house stood to attract merchants to stay, and save myself the daily walk. The project proved to be a more complex one than I had expected. First I ran out of good wood to build with, so I began to harvest more from along the pathway I'd cut, and while doing so I realized that if I hoped to attract merchants I'd have to make the path wide enough for a wagon. I ended up with enough wood that I began to add more to my design for the shelter, and realized that the stumps needed to be removed from the path. For this I enlisted Tori and her spade (who I had finally admitted to myself was just more qualified for manual labor like digging than I), and before long we were both heavily involved in the work. There was much to do, but by the time the first rains came we had a wide path to the crossroads, and a large thatch-roofed awning, enough to shelter a dozen men and their horses. We walked out together in that first rain with a sign that read [SHELTER--TRADE--FOOD], and I held the sign with one hand, my other arm about Tori's waist, while she pounded the picket into the ground with a large rock. We smiled, hugged each other, and headed back home to fuck our brains out. It was only a few days before we heard voices outside our cottage, just as dusk was beginning to fall. Heading out eagerly, we met three bedraggled-looking men at the entrance to the clearing. They looked wary at first, but we welcomed them warmly and they decided shelter seemed like a shameful thing to waste. They asked if we could give them warm food, and after a brief negotiation and a few coins in the hand, I asked Tori to go inside and fix a stew--it turned out cooking was something else she was better at than I was. I sat with them and asked them for news of the world. Tori returned with the pot once she'd filled it, and we built a fire to cook it over right there under the canopy. She sat next to me on the rough-hewn log seat where I sat, and I introduced her to the three men as my wife. She looked at me, surprised at first, but then smiled and put an arm around me affectionately. The men didn't quite seem to know what to make of it, but before long the smell of stew started to fill the air and all thoughts of interracial marriages and improper conduct left their heads. Shortly thereafter it became clear that it had never occurred to me that if I were to offer food to travelers, I would also need to offer a way to eat it. I bade them wait while I went off to collect my hatchet and a log, and in a short time I'd managed to whack out some crude bowls. I didn't have utensils for them, but they figured out how to manage with a combination of loud slurping and belt knives. I'd specifically asked Tori to add some rabbit meat to the stew, something I normally didn't do, because I feared that our guests would likely take it amiss if there was no meat to be had. It was much to my surprise then when Tori helped herself to a bowl, and even ventured to try some rabbit. She made no complaints about it, but I observed that she ate slowly, and did not finish her bowl, which was unusual as she usually had an appetite to match her size. When the rest of us were done eating, we threw our makeshift bowls in the fire and watched the flames consume them. Later, well-fed and feeling at ease, one of the travelers retrieved a clay jug of whiskey from his saddle, and passed it around the fire. I was suddenly acutely aware of how long it had been since I had had a good drink, and they were generous enough to share. We sat and drank and laughed together for some hours, I learned various trivial news of the world that existed down my road, and that my newly-titled wife could hold her drink as well as any of us. At length she seemed to grow restless, and we excused ourselves for bed. When we reached the cottage, she told me that she was not feeling particularly well and asked if we could, for once, simply go to sleep. This for once was fine with me, I was feeling tired from the whiskey, and besides I was somewhat embarrassed at the thought of keeping our guests up with grunts and moos. Morning came, and the three men departed with thanks for our hospitality. I asked them to share a brief tale of our facilities in the nearest town, should they find a place where it might reach a merchant's ear, and wished them good luck in their travels. After they left I went to tend to Tori, who was still complaining about a stomach ache. We agreed that it might have been the rabbit, and came to the conclusion that if she attempted such a thing again, it would be smart to do so sparingly. A crude table stood in our cottage, carved by myself with the hatchet, and I stacked the coppers our guests had paid us in the middle of it, and sat, staring and considering them. At length, I decided that this had been a good idea, and that there was more to be had from it. Tori agreed, and we decided that if visitors were frequent enough, it would be fun to begin working on a small inn. I carved more tables, worked on a stack of more functional and presentable bowls, and dug a real fire pit. Tori took to simply keeping our cook pot topped off and lighting a fire under it every evening just before dusk. Travelers stopped, alone or in small groups, every few nights. Business was steady, even if not thriving, and we began buying supplies from merchants with the coins we were paid, to help bolster the small yields of Tori's garden and my hunting. It was satisfying, and we gradually began to fill our modest home with new possessions, practical and luxury items. Amidst this, we began to recognize a new problem: With regular guests, we were finding it harder to indulge in the frequent naked exploits we had enjoyed so freely before. Before long though, we learned that visitors very rarely stopped before the sun began to dip in the sky, so we simply worked around this schedule, and happiness was maintained. It was into spring, nearly three seasons since we'd met, when I finally decided that it was time that I should tell Tori the truth. One evening with dusk darkening into night, no travelers camped outside, Tori and I had just finished eating dinner and she was rinsing the remains of our meal out of our dishes, slopping the water outside, when I cleared my throat and addressed her. "Honey, I need to tell you something." She stacked up the bowls unconcernedly and turned back towards me, closing the door. "What is it?" I tried to think how best to phrase it, but nothing clever came to mind. "I'm not Hezuul Face-breaker. My name really is Ned." She stood there, blankly looking at me for a moment, and I felt fear rising in me. Fear that she would be angry or disappointed or broken. But when she blinked and spoke, all she said was "Oh." She was silent for another moment, then added "My clan?" "I don't know. Gone, probably. You missed the real Hezuul, I was following his army." I shrugged weakly, and added "I'm sorry, babe... You were so happy, I didn't want to tell you. Your elders though, they sent you to be a sacrificial lamb, you have to realize that. Everything I ever heard about Hezuul, he would have taken you, killed your clan anyways, and then killed you too, slowly most likely. It was good you missed him, you couldn't have changed things anyways." Tori crossed her hands across her stomach, something I'd learned she did when she was apprehensive. She shifted, and asked, "...can I stay? I like it here. With you." I was relieved. "Wh... Of course you can. I love you, don't you know that? I wanted you to know, I didn't want you thinking I was someone one else forever." She smiled and dropped her hands, crossed the room to the platform where our bed stood. I'd made her a pair of boots and a jacket out of rabbit furs since the summer, though I was delaying on the pants. She truly didn't seem to get cold easily, and I liked being able to see her legs. She started to strip down, and I got up to join her. She climbed into our bed and watched me as I got ready to join her. "Can I still call you warlord?" I grinned, "Sure, if you want." I crawled under the blanket with her, already admiring her smooth golden skin, eager to nuzzle my face into her breasts. She giggled and slid her arms around me, noting my excitement. "I always thought you were short for an ogre..." I grimaced, "Aw c'mon Tori, you know I don't like being the little one." She craned her neck down to kiss me, and I felt her knees slide slowly up my sides, felt the warmth of her nethers against mine. "It's okay Ned, I don't mind you being short. You're big where it counts, and anyway, I love you too." I sighed, figuring that was as much as I could ask, and ran my tongue over her thick pink nipples. "Here I come, babe," I murmured as I plunged smoothly inside her. "MMMOOoooooo~!" she replied. The next morning I rose first, as usual, and was getting dressed when I heard Tori call me. "Ned..." "Yeah?" I turned to look at her. She was lying on her side, propped up on one elbow, and I realized she had been watching me. She must have woken up first for once, and been waiting for me to get up. "Would you.... I mean... Have you ever thought about being a father?" I stopped for a moment, and realized I had not. "No, I guess I never have." I considered her expression for a moment, then shrugged, "I don't think I feel much like a father. Could we even...? I mean, I'm not a minotaur or anything. And it seems like we would have had one before now." She smiled at me softly. "I think you'd be a fine father. It'll work." "How do you know?" I asked, skeptical. "I just know." I shrugged again, "Fine. Let's do it." She rolled over on her back and lay down, and I saw her hands slide down and her knees come up under the blanket. At first I thought she was pleasuring herself, which made me both aroused and confused in turns, but after a moment the expression on her face and the way she moved changed my perspective. She was -looking- for something. Still aroused and more than a little confused, I watched as she struggled under the blanket. After several long moments, she exclaimed triumphantly, and one arm slid out of the sheets. Her hand was moist-looking, and she held what looked like a smooth, mucous-covered black pebble. Staring in disbelief, I demanded to know what she'd dug up. "Contraceptive cup," she explained dismissively, and tossed it away. It clattered across the stone floor and came to rest in a far corner. I gaped at it for a moment, then looked back at her. She gave a shrug of her own, and added "It's a minotaur thing. The medicine woman gave it to me before I left home." She propped herself up again to look at me, and lifted the blanket invitingly. I giggled a little as I began to undress. I could see a faint glisten between her legs already. She gave me a quizzical look, and I grinned at her. Sliding in beside her, I said, "Let's make a baby!" She blushed a little, and chuckled herself as she slid her arms around me. "Better do it twice to be sure." Time passed, and true to Tori's word, her belly began to swell. Eventually she asked me to start using the back door when I came in to play, and I bought her some maternity clothes from a salesman. She thought they made her look frumpy, but I told her I thought she was radiant. Truthfully, I didn't really care if she looked frumpy, she was still far prettier than I. Winter passed into spring, and eventually the rains let up. I began working on a new building, bigger than our cottage, something we could call an inn. I had some difficulty at the second story, being unable to remember the Pythagorean theorem, but it was nearly done by the time the baby came. It was a boy with curly blond hair, big round ears, and tiny little horns. We were so proud, I took so much time off working on the new building that we barely got it finished and furnished by the coming fall. I made a note not to leave any windows facing our house, so that we wouldn't be permanently troubled by the ears of strangers. Travelers started to stop regularly, there was rarely a night when we didn't have someone to feed and entertain, and money was good. Some knew of us before they even arrived. It became something of a private, running joke in the family to tell customers that I was Hezuul Face-breaker, once-feared half-ogre despot who terrorized the country, now settled down and happy with the woman he had been seeking. The babies kept coming. Some were beautiful as their mother, some ugly as I, but we loved them all, even when they tried our patience. I had to build new houses for the oldest ones. Seasons passed in happiness, and the years blended into one another. So here we are, years later. Our Inn is well-known, our children are grown tall and strong, and we are well-situated as the unofficial land-lord and land-lady of our crossroad, whose name I have never learned and do not care to know. Tori has gone gray around the temples, and my hands are growing stiff with age, but my back is still strong and she is still beautiful. To this day I'm not sure what became of the real Hezuul Face-breaker. Some times I entertain young, impressionable travelers with stories of how I was once a fearsome warlord spurred to acts of terrible violence and general audacity on account of my being teased mercilessly in my childhood for being the smallest ogre on the continent, it generally fetches laughter by the bucketful and often ensures repeat clients. The real warlord, to the best of my knowledge, faded into anonymity not long after Tori was to meet him. I like to think that like me, one day he woke up and realized he'd found the treasure he was looking for all this time, be it respect or gold or a beautiful wife. Regardless of the outcome, I think my story--and perhaps his too--are not so different from most men. Know it or not, like it or don't, we're all just one day's fortune away from everything we ever wanted.