The Alchemists Bargain

This story was created from a prompt. The prompt read: A wealthy noblewoman gets far more than she bargained for, when she hires a goblin alchemist / artificer to treat her infertility...

Evangeline's carriage wheels crunched over dead leaves as she ventured where nobility rarely tread. Five childless years drove her to these woods--to him. Her handmaiden had whispered the name after too much wine: Gnarl. A goblin who'd allegedly blessed barren noblewomen with children when all else failed.

Ridiculous superstition, she'd thought initially. Yet month after bloody month had worn down her skepticism like water on stone.

The driver stopped. "M'lady?"

"Wait here," she commanded, gathering her skirts to step down. A crooked hut squatted between ancient trees, chimney belching green-tinged smoke. She knocked, heart hammering.

The door creaked. She expected to look far down, but the goblin stood taller than rumors suggested--reaching her chest. His skin wasn't the sickly pallor she'd imagined, but a deep forest green with patches of darker mottling. Those eyes, though--amber with black slits--those unsettled her most.

"Lady Evangeline," he said, voice like gravel in honey. "Been wonderin' when you'd come."

Her spine stiffened. "You know me?"

"Know all the desperate nobles eventually find their way to ol' Gnarl." He gestured inside with three-fingered hands. "Especially them that can't give their husbands heirs."

The hut's interior stunned her--immaculate workbenches lined with mysterious instruments, bottles of colored liquids organized by some inscrutable system. Nothing like the filthy den she'd braced herself for.

"You've tried everything else," Gnarl said, studying her face. Not a question.

Evangeline nodded stiffly. "My husband requires an heir."

"And you? What d'you want?"

The question caught her like a slap. When had anyone last cared what she wanted?

"I want what any woman wants," she managed.

"Right," Gnarl muttered, turning to his workbench. He selected vials, measuring with surprising precision. "Got something might work. But ain't cheap."

"I've brought gold--"

"Don't want yer gold." Gnarl faced her, suddenly serious. "Magic like this costs... different."

Sweat broke on Evangeline's neck despite the cool air. "What, then?"

"Made a talisman. Powerful magic." He held up a silver pendant. "But needs activating with goblin seed."

Her face must have betrayed her confusion, because he added bluntly: "My cock juice, m'lady."

Evangeline's stomach lurched. "You expect me to--"

"Collect it," he finished, unashamed. "Gotta be fresh--hour old at most."

She turned away, fighting nausea. "Why would that help me conceive my husband's child?"

"Talisman transfers potency," he explained, surprisingly patient. "Makes yer womb fertile ground. Duke's seed'll take root where before it withered."

The room seemed to spin. Leave now, a voice in her head screamed. But another voice reminded her of the court whispers, her husband's cold disappointment, the emptiness of her arms.

"Very well," she whispered.

Gnarl disappeared behind a curtain. When he returned, he wore only a stained loincloth. Beneath it, an unmistakable bulge grew. He offered her a crystal vial.

She'd never touched any being but her husband and servants helping her dress. Gnarl's skin burned hotter than a human's, textured like weathered leather. Her fingers trembled as she reached beneath his cloth.

His member sprang free--greenish and ridged in ways a human man's wasn't. Fighting revulsion, she wrapped her hand around it. The flesh pulsed against her palm, growing firmer as she stroked uncertainly.

"Harder," Gnarl grunted. "Ain't gonna break it."

Gritting her teeth, Evangeline pumped her hand with more force. Gnarl moaned--a sound that crawled across her skin like spiders. His hips thrust involuntarily.

When it happened, the eruption shocked her with its force. She barely caught the milky fluid in the vial, nearly dropping it as his cock throbbed against her fingers.

Afterward, trembling with disgust, she watched Gnarl work. He poured the goblin seed over the pendant, chanting in a guttural tongue. Sparks danced where liquid met metal. The fluid seemed to sink into the silver, leaving behind a faint glow.

"Wear this when yer husband mounts ya," Gnarl instructed, passing her the pendant. "It'll make things happen that wouldn't otherwise."

* * *

That night, Evangeline lay beneath her husband, pendant cold between her breasts. Duke Harrington rutted with the same dispassionate efficiency he brought to running his lands. His face contorted above her, showing nothing of pleasure or connection--merely concentration on a task.

His thrusts grew erratic. With a grunt, he spilled inside her and immediately withdrew. Within minutes, he snored beside her while she lay awake, one hand pressed to her belly, silently pleading with whatever gods might listen.

* * *

Two weeks later, blood stained her sheets. Rage and despair warred within her as she ordered her carriage prepared. This time, she didn't knock at Gnarl's door, but threw it open.

He looked unsurprised. "Didn't work, then."

"You deceived me," she hissed, fists clenched.

"Never guaranteed nothin'," Gnarl countered. "Some stubborn cases need stronger medicine."

"What 'stronger medicine'?" Evangeline demanded.

Gnarl's eyes gleamed. "Talisman needs two essences bound together. Mine and yours."

"My... essence?"

"Saliva," he clarified. "Mixed with mine before it touches the pendant."

Understanding dawned. "You expect me to take your seed in my mouth?"

"Not just take it--mix it proper-like. Gotta combine 'em before they leave yer mouth."

Blood roared in Evangeline's ears. Last time had been degrading enough. This was unthinkable. Wasn't it?

The Duke's face swam in her memory. His disappointment. The barely concealed contempt. The whispers that perhaps he should set her aside for a wife who could bear children.

"If I refuse?"

Gnarl shrugged. "Then go home to yer big empty house and yer bigger empty nursery."

Tears stung her eyes. Five years of failure. Five years of remedies and prayers. What was one more degradation measured against that?

"Very well."

Inside, Gnarl lit strange-smelling candles. Their flickering cast his features in demonic shadow. Evangeline sank to her knees on the packed dirt floor, her expensive dress pooling around her.

Gnarl approached, already naked. His cock jutted toward her face, fully erect. The sight made her throat close in panic.

"Open," he commanded.

Trembling, she parted her lips. Gnarl gripped her hair with surprising strength, guiding himself to her mouth. The alien taste of him--musky, salty, faintly metallic--flooded her senses as he pushed between her lips.

She gagged as he hit the back of her throat, eyes watering. His grip tightened, holding her in place as he began thrusting. Each stroke brought him deeper until she could barely breathe.

"That's it," he growled above her. "Take it all."

Something shifted in her then--a strange heat building low in her belly. Her body responded even as her mind recoiled. When Gnarl suddenly pulled back until only his tip remained in her mouth, she knew what was coming.

"Don't swallow," he warned, voice tight.

His seed flooded her mouth--hot, thick, tasting of salt and something undefinable. It mixed with her saliva as she struggled not to reflexively swallow. Her cheeks bulged slightly with the effort of containing the mixture.

Gnarl withdrew completely, quickly offering a vial. She spat the combined fluids into it, gasping with relief. Her face burned with humiliation.

Again, Gnarl performed his ritual. This time, the pendant glowed brighter, pulsing with inner light.

"This'll work," he promised, placing it around her neck himself. His fingers lingered against her skin. "Unless yer truly cursed."

* * *

The next two weeks, Evangeline performed her marital duties with newfound vigor. The Duke seemed pleased by her enthusiasm, though he remained as methodical as ever. She wore the talisman faithfully, praying it would fulfill its promise.

When her courses arrived, exactly on schedule, something inside her broke. She didn't cry this time. She raged. Servants scattered before her fury as she swept through the manor, breaking a priceless vase, tearing a tapestry from the wall.

Then she called for her carriage.

* * *

Gnarl awaited her on his doorstep, as if he'd known she'd come. Her fury died at the sympathy in his strange eyes.

"One last chance," he said quietly. "The strongest magic I know."

"What could possibly be left?" Evangeline asked, voice hollow.

"Complete union," Gnarl replied. "While focusing yer thoughts on yer husband."

A hysterical laugh bubbled from her throat. "You want to fuck me? A goblin?"

"Want? Yes." Gnarl's honesty startled her. "But this ain't about what I want. It's about what you need."

"And you believe this will work?" Evangeline asked, already knowing she would agree. What dignity remained to protect?

"Yes."

Inside, Gnarl's bed surprised her--clean furs and blankets rather than straw. She lay back, staring at the ceiling as she unlaced her bodice with numb fingers.

"Close yer eyes," Gnarl instructed softly. "Think of yer Duke."

She tried. As Gnarl positioned himself between her legs, she conjured the Duke's face. But when Gnarl entered her with one powerful thrust, the Duke's image shattered.

He felt nothing like her husband--thicker, ridged where a human was smooth. He moved differently too, with deliberate skill rather than selfish haste. His rough hands found places on her body that made her gasp. When his thumb circled the sensitive nub at her apex, pleasure shocked through her.

"Keep thinkin' of him," Gnarl growled, hips pistoning faster.

But she couldn't. For five years, she'd endured passionless duty. This--this raw, animal coupling--awakened something she hadn't known existed. Her body responded of its own accord, arching to meet his thrusts, inner muscles clenching around his invading cock.

When release came, it blindsided her--a wave of pleasure so intense it bordered on pain. She cried out, body convulsing beneath him. Gnarl drove deep one final time, his seed flooding her womb as her inner walls milked him reflexively.

Afterward, he collected their mingled fluids from between her trembling thighs. This time, the pendant burned almost too hot to touch when the ritual finished.

"You'll have yer child now," Gnarl said with certainty.

Evangeline fastened the talisman with shaking hands. "And if I don't?"

His grin revealed pointed teeth. "Then maybe there's other hungers need feedin'. Other emptiness needs fillin'."

She should have been outraged. Instead, she heard herself asking: "What would that cost me?"

"Just the pleasure of yer company," Gnarl replied, tracing one finger along her collarbone. "And admittin' certain truths about what ya really want."

The Duke had never looked at her the way Gnarl did now--like she mattered beyond her womb. Like her pleasure was worth pursuing.

"I will return in a month," she said carefully. "Either way."

Gnarl's smile deepened. "I'll be waitin', Lady Evangeline. Whether ya come with blessed news or fresh hunger, I'll be right here."

As her carriage rattled homeward, Evangeline touched the warm pendant at her throat. She'd come seeking one thing but found another entirely--the knowledge that she was more than a vessel for some man's legacy. That her desires mattered.

Whatever happened now, she'd never be the same. And maybe, just maybe, that was worth more than what she'd originally sought.