The next morning she was anxious, now knowing WHY the orc made her feel strange and no idea what to do about it. She got through class and readied the next lesson, trying to keep the orc from her mind.
"Hey." Tharo still made a point of standing several feet away when communicating so as not to startle people.
"Yeah. I was going to go dig your roots tomorrow afternoon." She kept her eyes on her clay tablet.
"No, it's not... no hurry." She heard him approach. His hand landed gently on her shoulder and she stiffened, he removed it quickly. "I didn't mean to upset you last night." His voice was soft.
Not helping, big guy
. "Not on you, Tharo. I..." She looked up at him, running her hand through her hair. "I'm bad at dealing with some things." He was so close, the urge to touch him was strong.
NO Nonono, do NOT
.
"Can... I don't have any friends here." He looked so sad, lost. Somehow this massive tusked, yellow-eyed orc was giving her the most heart-rending cow eyes she'd ever seen.
She scowled so as not to cry. Realized her hand was on his wrist. "People like you more than you think, Tharo." Next thing she knew her traitorous thumb was on the pulse in his neck, it WAS soft. She stroked it and ran her fingers along his jaw. "Stop assuming everyone hates you."
"And when I'm wrong?" He said hoarsely.
She shrugged, "This is a school, not a battlefield. Let your integrity and reputation do your fighting for you."
"Those are not as strong..." He whispered. His mouth descended on hers.
Kissing him was both familiar and strange. He tasted of smoke and copper, the tusks were there, unignorable, but his lips stroked hers gently. Their tongues touched. She felt his upper fangs, two on each side, smooth, her tongue flicked over the points, not too sharp. She had her hand on the back of his neck and was up against him. His massive hands cupped and squeezed her butt, pulling her into him.
They heard the door and immediately broke away from each other. Jayla began rigorously cleaning out her pestle, suppressing the urge to scream with frustration and perhaps murder whoever had just interrupted them. Tharo was too far on her side of the room to pretend to be doing much else, instead he spoke loudly. "So yeah, goldroot. I'll wash it and everything."
"Anything else you want me to look for?" She asked, grinding her scouring rag into the marble bowl.
"Mint if you see it. But that's just for my noon tea."
"Working on the berserker recipe?" It was Master Gillard.
"COURAGE recipe, please. It should not inspire rage." Corrected Tharo. He looked back at Jayla. "You sure you don't want my help?"
"Build me that fireplace so I don't have to keep going through your stinky work to get my kettle." She snapped.
"Fair trade." He said.
Gillard snorted, "Hardly. You're offering up a lot, Stonehammer."
"Carrying rocks and laying mortar is easy for me, Gillard. Finding and digging an entire pound of goldroot will take most of a day, more if you do it properly and leave some for next year. I'm not even sure what it looks like, do you?"
He was right. Goldroot was thin, not terribly common, and even Jayla knew nothing about cultivating it.
"I am NOT a herbalist." Gillard said haughtily.
"Would that I, too could involve myself with less wholesome pursuits without the town threatening to burn me." Jayla mumbled bitterly.
Tharo leaned close, "Well, if you weren't such a bitch..."
She smacked him with the rag. "Go make farty smells with Gillard, you beast. And open the door, I sleep here you know."
He chuckled and did as he was told, making a point of pulling out the beaker of sulphur and waving it at her.
It looked like the two alchemists would be doing whatever it was for awhile, she wouldn't get him alone again tonight. Jayla took a cold bath upstairs and headed toward the other side of town for a drink.
"Jayla!" the cry came as soon as she walked in the door. "Long time! Come sit!" Jayla felt a little suspicious. She was passing acquaintances with the captain of the local soldiers, Tara Weston, but mostly because the Captain kept bringing her injured or sick recruits when the doctors were all too busy. Though Tara was a former spy, refreshingly salty and well-traveled, basically as far as one could get from the academic demeanor and still be tolerable. A glass of mead appeared in front of the herbalist.
"So how are things? Borders quiet?" Jayla asked, raising the glass in thanks.
"Almost suspiciously so. There hasn't even been much trade. I know harvest isn't for another two months, but I expect at least wool or cloth or something." The Captain tapped her chin.
"Trouble on the other sides?"
Tara shrugged, "Not that we've heard."
Jayla smirked "Maybe they killed each other off."
Tara laughed, "That we'd be so lucky." She leaned forward, "So TELL ME. How is Stonehammer?"
"You know him?" All sorts of questions came to mind.
"Yeah, we were in the battle at Slackwater. Well, I was waaay back, he was on the front lines. Took a nasty hit to the leg and side, we thought he was a goner. He was up and around within two weeks, grumpy as hell and asked to be transferred. He has a place next to the arena."
"I shouldn't tell you, but he's pretty lonely and not treated well except by Gillard and Corish."
"I hear YOU're treating him pretty well." Tara smirked.
"OH REALLY." Jayla glowered. "What's the gossip today? Last month I was naked in the woods cavorting with Eastern Witches, now I'm..." She choked a little, waving her hand "... With orcs." She let most of the rumors about her perpetuate, no one had the nerve to ask if any of it was true, and it never had been. She realized they really weren't funny when they did get close to the truth. Which brought her to thinking if she tried to nip this one in the bud it would draw attention, better to come up with something worse and deflect. "We went for an ale last night and I testified on his behalf to the schoolmaster. I'm surprised no one thought Corish and I were a thing."