Another day. Another incredibly dull conquest.

While havoc yet raged in the village, at it's center sat the eye of the storm... literally. Somewhat separated from the other residential homes, a decent-sized building was likely originally meant to belong to belong to the chief of the village... Yet now all that remained of it was shattered walls, collapsed roofing, and burning debris. Atop it all, seated upon a throne comprised of the ruins of the building itself, was the goblin leader... and what a truly menacing visage he framed. Fresh blood stained his already blotched-red-and-black armor. The remnants of some poor sod's flesh hung from one of the spikes on his left pauldron, likely the result of a flaying. Grim, golden eyes glimmered darkly from beneath an unkempt mop of raven black hair as he, bored, watched the affairs of the town square from afar.

He had to admit, the chief knew the best spot to look over the city; he almost felt bad for destroying it.

"Chief Velgurx! I, ehehe, I come bearing news."

"Report."

Yermomstead was simply one of many conquests that the Velgurx, proclaimed 'chief' goblin of the goblin horde, had sacked. He did so not for food, nor for human women-- He and his clan wanted for neither. No, his aims were far more simplistic... and yet equally complex. "All is, eheh, proceeding apace! Just as your lordship predicted, once we took the east gate, the humans-- ehehehe-- they panicked like trapped rats! Delicious rats, ehehe. Most have been gathered below, at the town square, your lordship!" Below him, and the burning wreckage he'd claimed as his throne, knelt one of his many subordinates; A sniveling little goblin by the name of Glats, who served as his attendant... at least, in foolish matters he couldn't be bothered to attend to. Always seeking approval and praise, ever-so-desperate to ingratiate himself to 'his lordship', Velgurx tended to avoid having to directly interact with the strange little goblin... and understandably grew frustrated when he had to.

"...And you thought this was worth my time?"

"J-jiiiiii--!! W-we-- we also, ehehe, ahem... W-we also found a strange one, among them-- an elf, that the men report is able to transform into a, ehehe-- a cat! Ehe-- P-perhaps... perhaps, methinks, that he is--"

"Fool that you are. My quarry would not so easily succumb to you lot." Glats shuddered at the sharp edge of his master's words-- As if a blade had been pressed to his skull just for the audacity of his implications. Yet Velgurx was motionless-- perfectly calm, equally bored, even as the flames continued to burn around him. "This was yet another failure, in the end. So be it-- I lack the patience to wait while the last of the rodents are rounded up." At last, the goblin chief moved; Standing from his throne of flames, he looked from Glats, and outward toward the open midday skies, now marred by smoke and embers.


"Relay my order; Kill everyone. No survivors."

~~~


At said request, Glats wasted little time; Gleefully, he made for the town's square, where most of the villagers had been gathered now, and held at spear or swordpoint. Children cried; Men and women alike begged for their lives, and cursed the creatures in equal parts. There was a standstill; All of the goblins waited with bated breath for the order to strike, and at last it seemed the time had come as the out-of-breath Glats's voice rang out toward the town square.

"Hi-- His lordship-- His lordship has spoken! Everyone! His orders! Ki--"

"Who the bloody he-- h-hey, wha, whaaaaaa!!!"

Glats's words were cut short-- Not by a villager, not even by one of the waiting executioners... But by one of the wandering goblin soldiers, who screamed fear and bloody murder as he found himself forcibly catapulted from somewhere nearer to the southern gate... to the town square. At TERRIFYING speeds, no less; One villager's eyes just barely happened upon his soon-to-be-corpse piercing the wind itself as he, without warning, collided directly with the goblin that'd been holding a blade to the captured elf. Both were sent for a solid tumble; The flying goblin stopping first, motionless-- dead, it seemed, while the other suffered such grievous injuries from the collision that he couldn't even return to his feet.

"I got two! With one! Yes!!"

Naturally, heads turned toward the southern gate-- Goblins and humans alike. The men and women of the village were kicked aside, blades pulled from their necks and turned defensively toward the direction as a singular figure approached... or, well, 'happily trotted' was probably a more fitting description. Many of the goblins' mouths hung open at the sight, while others, in an understandable moment of confusion, turned to look at one another for validation as the figure drew closer, and was revealed to be... An armor-clad... spear-wielding... warrior-goblin... girl?

Many men and women took the opportunity to stand and attempt escape in the ensuing confusion. The goblins, their concentration and overall confidence shaken, were still mostly stunned; Even Glats didn't exactly know what to say or do in the moment. One unfortunate soldier managed to regain his bearings just quick enough to turn and attempt stopping one of the humans escaping; Alas, within all of 3 seconds of him yelling and running after them, he too was killed-- almost faster than anyone had time to see. Not by a thrown corpse this time; From head to... well, unmentionables, in a single, almost instantaneous leap, the goblin warrior-woman had crossed the distance between them and skewered him like the worst shish kebab possible. Whatever shock the goblin horde had recovered from was only doubled at the sight of the woman thereafter flipping her spear upright-- their killed comrade still skewered to it, and then pointing it's bladed tip forth at the nearest gob.

"WOE! DEATH AND DESTRUCTION BE UPON YA! GOBLINDA OF THE SEVEN LABORS COMES FOR YOU ALL! EXCEPT THE HUMANS! THE HUMANS PET GOBLINDA, THEY CAN LIVE!"

Truly a terrifyingly adorable declaration of war if ever there was one.

"Any luck with that?" Theo grimaced and shook his head in disapproval. "It's something to pass the time. Plot-wise it has a lot of issues. Content-wise mm, they do a lot of physically impossible things that definitely ruin the escapism of it all. This author is always a bit hit or miss. Some books are passable and some are just pitfall trap after pitfall trap. I'm still not entirely sure how I feel about this one. The changing of my guard is certainly a much lucky and desired distraction."

"Yeah. Sorry. I didn't mean to just — you, erm — do what you've got to."

He watched Theo make his hasty retreat, grimacing at how much of a fuck-awful tease he'd just been. "Sorry, love," he said again to nobody. Still, he wouldn't deny that it had bolstered his confidence. Theo hadn't been lying. He did want this. Or...maybe the book had just gotten him worked up. Who knew, really.

Fletch sighed and leaned against the door, arms crossed and eye aimed pointedly away from the screen. They were both so drunk on this thing that neither of them was thinking clearly, and it could have just spelled the end of their affair. They had to be more careful. Maybe he shouldn't be in this room at all without a chaperone, like they were a couple of handsy teens and not men bordering on middle-aged. 

When Theo re-emerged, he seemed to have calmed himself, though his question made Fletcher laugh a little. "I have now," he joked exasperatedly as he flailed his arms and let them fall to his sides. "Went clock shopping in town. Fuck all else, though. Enjoying your book?"

He gasped softly and whimpered as Fletcher came and went like the tide. "Then it shall wait," he replied with calm finality even as his eyes hungered for Fletcher. Theo swallowed and carefully sighed out a breath while stepping back from the other man.

"I need to mm—wash my face. I'll be right back." Theo tossed his book gently onto the bed and dashed off to his bathroom with a slight waddle to his stride. The water ran but it was several longer minutes than it needed to be to wash one's face before the nobleman returned looking more poised.

"Did you have a good start to your day?"

Fletch leaned a little closer with each shuddering breath. This was a terrible idea. They could so easily get caught. Somehow, he didn't care. Somehow that made it even more tempting. "Do I look like a man who wants a book and a walk, Theo?" he asked. He drew closer still until his fingers wove in between Theo's. Until his lips brushed against the man's. Then, like a spell broken, he stepped away and drew a deep and centering breath. He let it out, casting an anxious glance at the door. "It can wait," he breathed. "It's got to wait. We can't be doing this in broad daylight, lock or no."

He hesitated looking between the man's eye and his lips and back again. "Do you want to? We can just sit and read or go for a walk. Simple."

"Oho. And he spanks me, too. No. No, I didn't. I didn't really expect this to be our first order of business," Fletch replied, jerking his chin towards the book. Then he noticed the way Theo was looking at him, and it caught up to him what the man was asking. His smirk quieted a little, though his gaze grew fiery. "I can if you want," he murmured.

Theo went barreling after the book and tried desperately to get the book back. By the time it was relinquished he was very red in the face and lightly smacked Fletcher on the rear with it.

"It's just a silly book. Nothing to see here—did you lock the door?" He eyed the other man with dark eyes as he seemed to realize finally how close they were standing to each other. 

"Few minutes," Fletch replied quickly as he seized the opportunity without a moment's hesitation. He stood, bent, and snatched the book up before making a hasty retreat. As he walked, he thumbed through it, stopping to linger on a particularly graphic scene that seemed, like the book about pirates, to involve two men. "Huh," he chuckled. "Oh he's got his trousers down at a ball? Oh and so has the other one? Bit rude." He noticed Theo's approach just in time and scooted off again around the room, weaving and blocking the man's snatching hands with his body. "Ooh, that's raunchy, though," he went on, smirk growing wider and wider. At last, he slowed down and allowed Theo to reclaim the stolen prize, though by that point he'd read quite enough to know what sort of book it was. 

"It's good. I approve," he grinned. "I'm borrowing it when you're done."

"I surrender to it," he mumbled back between loving kisses. Theo dozed a bit but startled awake some time in the night for the fourth or fifth time and decided enough was enough. Reluctantly he slunk back into his own bed, shivering at cold sheets after having scrubbed himself of his lover's scent for the second night in a row.

The following day was a peaceful blur for him. Post breakfast he had kicked off his shoes and coat in favor of sprawling out in his bed to read. The hours whittled away as he rolled this way and that into each new comfortable reading position. 

He was so engrossed in fact that come afternoon, he completely missed Fletcher's arrival into the room as he lay there kicking his legs and enjoying the adventures of a streetrat who had managed to gain the attentions of a cold-hearted Duke. 

Nose still in his book, Theo got up and distractedly poured himself some more water. He leaned against the side table, half sitting on the edge as one hand held the book and the other raised the cup to his lips.

"That simply cannot be physically possible," he exclaimed quietly to himself. He dropped the book down against his leg and was halfway to taking a gulp of water when he caught sight of Fletcher from the corner of his eye and let loose a high-pitched squeal of surprise that resulted in him defensively chucking the book at the other man. 

"Oh I'm sorry I'm sorry," he claimed immediately afterwards, while trying to reclaim the book before his lover did. "How long have you been sitting there?"