This is a request featuring Maiev from WoW with an orc. Contains scent and impreg kinks.
***
It was dark in Ashenvale, with the light of the moon casting a swath of pale light upon the damp forest floor, moving and changing like the clear reflection of water as the leaves above were teased to and fro by the wind. Apart from the occasional call of an animal, rustling of a breeze, or trickling of a nearby brook, the ancient forest was silent in its tranquility.
Maiev's race was attuned to the night just as any other race was attuned to the day--more so, even--and the dull chill that it brought, the solitary feeling rewarded by the subversion of the sun in favor of the moon, was nothing less than natural to her. Her bright eyes, glowing like subtle lanterns, bore through the darkness and saw all, keen as an owl with the temperament of a panther. As a Warden, she stalked and prowled, patrolling her territory for those unwelcome: those with green skin, or bullish snouts, or in general those savage races wielding tusks between their lips. Murderers and thieves, pillagers and defilers.
Her rounds for the night were coming to an end, and had begotten nothing in the way of discovering Horde invaders or other more mundane criminal activities by fellow members of the Alliance. It was during this time that, upon making her return back to the little military encampment she was currently in charge of, that she passed by a solitary moonwell, nestled snugly with a solitary glade, largely unvisited and slightly upraised upon a hill. By a whim she decided to check upon it and, to a degree of anger that made her long ears twitch, she discovered therein exactly the type that she had been on the lookout for: a green skinned, tusked invader. He wore nothing but a loincloth and was bathing--if it could really be called that--within the moonwell, clothes discarded upon the grass, with a serrated axe leaning against a tree nearby.
Maiev's anger, ever quick to boil, rose to dangerous levels. She glided towards the orc, silent even within the stillness of the glade, and her presence was only let known to him by the deliberate wielding of her glaives, sharp steel on sharp steel startling him to attention.
"Be still, or I will sever your head from your shoulders, orc," she hissed.
The orc glanced at his weapon, and then, apparently deeming it too far to reach in time, complied with obvious reluctance that no doubt went against the mindless savagery of his race.
"Out of the moonwell," she hissed, and when he complied with this as well, she gave him further instructions: "Turn around, and do not make any sudden movements."
This, too, he obeyed, facing away from her and no doubt already thinking of an escape plan. She restrained his hands behind his back with bonds of magic that glowed like green crystal against his already green skin, and then bound him further with shackles of iron. "Come, wretch. I will decide your fate back at camp after a period of deliberation."
The orc grumbled something about his clothes but she ignored him and shoved him forward, guiding him with a grip as hard and firm as the iron around his wrists. He was compliant to a surprising degree, but she nevertheless kept her awareness raised, ready at any moment to shackle his feet if he decided to run or to cut him down with her glaives if he decided to try and test his luck against her. He did none of these things, and part of her wondered if he was trying to get on her good side with the hope that she would later let him free.
As they walked, she eyed him through the thin slits of her helmet. He was fairly tall for an orc, and quite a bit taller than her despite her own impressive height. His face was square, his hair short, and his jaw darkened by stubble. Muscles and wide shoulders gave him the appearance of someone broad and sturdily built, like he lifted boulders for a living. The possibility of this being exactly the case was not lost on her, however for prudence's sake she operated under the assumption that he was a soldier capable of the kind of martial prowess typical of other orcs she had fought. For whether or not he was a soldier or trained for combat, he was certainly strong enough to cause harm; his muscles, shining under the light of the moon and with the moonwell's waters, were evidence enough of that.
The chiseled lines of his muscles caught her eye longer than intended for a simple cursory inspection, and she tore her gaze away with a shake of the head and a yank of his arm. Her camp was nearby, and after only a few more minutes of walking they arrived. It was simple and small, a temporary bivouac meant only to be used for a week or two. There were a scattering of tents nestled between long-abandoned homes made of stone, one of which had been transformed into a makeshift jail. It was small in size, barely large enough to fit an elf much less an orc, but the man's comfort was not of concern to her. After unbinding him, she forced him into the cell, gave it a good once over to ensure that he could not possibly escape, and then left without a word, circling the camp and sending forth a number of owl sentinels to take watch. It was unlikely that they had been followed, or that a Horde recovery party would find them here, but there was no need to be lax. Especially when the small outfit of soldiers she was in charge of were off on an exercise of their own.
Once confident in the secureness of her encampment, she made her way to the jailhouse, half-annoyed over the orc giving her more work to do and cutting into her leisure time, but also half-excited over said work. She liked what she did, and though a bath certainly would be nice, grilling the orc would likely come with its own pleasantries.
When she arrived he was lying upon the bed and quickly bolted upright. The room was dimly lit, but she could still see the annoyed look on his face and the bulging muscles that dominated his figure. They were oddly distracting, and she wondered if perhaps she should have allowed him to put his clothes back on before leading him back here.
"How long are you going to keep me in this cell?" he asked, a barely contained edge accenting his speech.
Clearing her throat, Maiev removed her helmet and placed it upon a nearby table, freeing her long, arctic-white ponytail. There was a single wooden chair in the room and she took it, bringing it closer to the orc and then sitting upon it, her hard gaze turned towards him. "Until justice has been done," she said.
"Meaning?"
"Meaning that you will leave once I deem you either a threat, or not a threat. If you are a threat you will be executed." She let her words hang in the air for a moment, studying him before continuing. "If you are not a threat, you will be released."
He stood up with a shifting of muscles and ruffling of loincloth. Briefly, instinctively, her eyes darted to the fabric and the noticeably large appendage it contained before she caught herself and looked away, pretending to correct an imagined crease in her cloak.
"I'm not a threat," he said simply and so matter-of-factly that she was almost inclined to believe him.
Maiev cleared her throat and looked up at the orc standing above her, separated only by bars of hard steel. Seated as she was, his clothed member was eye level with her, and for some infuriating reason it was a struggle not to constantly sneak glances at it.
"What is your name?" she asked, taking up quill and parchment.
"Durnok."
She quickly sketched it onto the parchment.
"Age?"
"Thirty-five."
"Profession?"
"Merchant. Primarily leather goods."
"Reason for venturing into the area where I found you and then defiling a moonwell with your filth?"
"I... was exploring, and when I found the well I figured I could use a bath anyway, so why not?"
Durnok adjusted his posture, and once again her gaze found itself drawn to his hidden package. Her nose twitched, and without thinking she sniffed. Despite his dip in the moonwell, his scent was strong. Earthy and masculine in an almost intoxicating sort of way.
Intoxicating?
Maiev blinked, trying to hide her burgeoning curiosity behind a scowl. "You certainly smell. Perhaps I shouldn't blame you for seeking a bath."
"Does that mean you forgive me?" he asked.
"No," she replied, and then continued, "Why were you exploring out so far, away from your own Horde encampments?"
