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Story Notes:

This is a wholly original tale that my best friend/writing partner and I started for our own amusement after starting ESO together. It uses races, locations and much of the myth and lore of the world of The Elder Scrolls, but artistic liberties have been taken with regard to the average size of Nords, and some monster types. It is now the first book of a planned 3 book saga.

It is sexually explicit, but also at its core a love story about two people who are very different from each other. We hope you enjoy it and share it with others! We look forward to hearing your feedback!

You can visit the new blog we made for the story at https://inoverhishead-darkhungersaga.tumblr.com/

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Yagaritte huffed in annoyance, rolling her eyes at her satchel, where her arms were currently buried. Her fingers were reaching for, but not finding, the little bundle of medicinal herbs they were after. A silken strand of strawberry blonde hair, an accidental leaf sticking out of it, fell from her messy bun. She huffed again and pushed it from her face with a puff of air, ignoring the stowaway leaf. She stood, crossing her arms at her chest and staring down, with disdain, at her useless satchel. The medicine was there, she knew it. She had snuck it out of a cavern crawling with winter wolves herself. She had come out unscathed, but the same could not be said for one or two wolves who’d had the misfortune of crossing her path. She kicked it with her booted foot.


“Miss? Have you got the herbs or not?” A fidgeting tradesman asked, looking up at her.


 To say Yagaritte was “tall”, was like saying mountains are “big”..or the ocean is “deep”. It was a true enough statement, but didn’t really cover the scope of what you were trying to convey.  She was very close to the limit that people would actually believe their eyes and not question their sanity when they first saw her.  She lived on a frozen island filled with people the rest of the world  thought of as giants, but even those giants looked up at her. She was also well aware that most people, especially men, found her somewhat intimidating. She squared her shoulders and puffed out her chest, a silent warning that perhaps he ought to watch his tone. She had the herbs for him, that was the end of the story, and he needn't question her as though she were some invalid child who couldn’t accomplish a task as simple as securing a bundle of sticks from a cavern.


The tradesman backed away some, hunching his shoulders down. “I… I… well, please keep looking…” he stuttered, looking over at a gentleman in the corner, and at another, who was by the window looking at a stack of worn Magicka books on a table there. The shopkeeper’s eyes seemed to be silently pleading to both of them to protect him if this giant woman decided she didn’t want to deal with him any longer.


Yagaritte chuckled. “Worry not, I have your herbs,” she said. 


Her looks were deceiving, in a way, as her voice was soft and full, warm and inviting. The tradesman nodded, still eyeing the other patrons carefully.


The young man by the dusty pile of books, who had, up until this point, been surreptitiously pretending he was alone in the room, glanced back at the tradesman, and then toward the looming woman. A small wispy globe of soft luminescence hovered a few inches from his face affording him just enough illumination to decipher the strange runes he had been poring over the last 10 minutes or so, but the moment she had laughed so loud and clear the minor glamour had poofed with a slight crackling sound.  Who WAS that? Her voice  was so rich and full, It conjured images of valkyries and feast halls, of warm furs around crackling fires. And her laugh..it was deep and hearty and honest.  It was so infectious that he had almost wanted to join in, but had stifled himself at the last moment as the last thing he wanted was to draw anyone's attention.  She certainly had his though. 
He had never seen anyone like her in his life. He swallowed nervously. She was paying him no mind, of course, but the fact that there was such a beautiful woman in his presence was enough to get him sweating. He quickly jerked his head back to the table, and picked up a different book at random, burying his face between two pages, willing his heart to slow to a normal pace, because he was sure everybody in the vicinity could hear it.


Yagaritte bent to grab her satchel, and snatched it up, swinging it over her shoulder. She gently brushed passed the tradesman, and made her way directly for the young man at the table of books. She stopped right next to him, and grabbed a enormous stack of books, half as tall as the young man was, and with ease, she gingerly moved it to the floor. Room now on the table, she swung her satchel back of off her shoulder, and unceremoniously upended it over the table. The contents of her bag spilled everywhere. Some small bundles, coins, daggers, vials and other useless trinkets flew across the table, some onto the floor. But..search as she might, the little wrapped package of medicinal herbs was not plainly obvious.


The young wood elf beside her coughed nervously, his heart racing now again, at full speed. He was small even by Bosmer standards, and he was used to people looking down on him wherever he went.  He had felt like a child when he first landed on this frozen island with these giants everywhere, but this woman, she was something else altogether. Even hunched over the table she towered over him, and she was standing so close to him the rather shapely curve of her leather clad hip was all but brushing the side of his  shoulders.  She looked down at him, as though seeing him for the first time. She smiled gently.

At this close range, he could see that her clothes and armor were dusty, spattered here and there with fresh crimson blood. He hoped it was not hers. The twin daggers at her hips, were also encrusted in blood. That  definitely wasn't hers, he thought, gulping silently. He furtively stole a glance upward at her as she was obliviously rifling through her things. Her eyes were a cool greenish blue, the color of the sweet waters off the Summerset Isles, if someone had bottled it in crystal and set it amongst diamonds. They sparkled in the dusty light streaming in through the window, and there was a familiar mischievous twinkle he knew all too well from his years in boarding school.


“P-p-pardon me ma’am” he finally managed to stammer,  “I-- I   c--can move if I’m in your way..”


Yagaritte chuckled gently as she looked down at him. It was a hearty sound, one that sounded right at home in her throat. She seemed to be someone who, when not trying to intimidate a tradesman, was easy to laugh. She reached a hand down to his face, her thumb out, but stopped when he flinched. She chuckled again, taking no offense to his reaction, for she was used to it. “You have some…” she trailed off, mimicking on her own face where the young man beside her had dusty smudges on his own.
He blushed deeply, ferociously. He threw the book he was holding away from himself and reached for his kerchief with trembling hands, embarrassed, nervous. He turned from her hastily, and rubbed his face with the piece of cloth, over and over. Yagaritte laughed heartily at this, not in jest, but with a joyful sound. Her whole chest was full of laughter. Everyone in the room seemed to breath a sigh of relief except the gentleman who had his back to her. No, indeed, his face seemed to get even redder still. At this, the tradesman took a step closer to them. “Miss, er… um..  I don’t see the herbs…” he said carefully, looking at the mess she had made of his table, and his floor. Truthfully, the herbs were not there. 


Yagaritte glanced at him, then again at the pile. “Indeed not,” she conceded, sighing. She shook her head, grabbing her satchel and stuffing her things haphazardly back into it. “One moment, please…” she said, swinging the satchel across her sturdy shoulders and around her back.
 Without another word, she went back out of the shop and disappeared down the grimy, muddy street. The tradesman started after her, but stopped at the door, shaking his head. He sighed. She would be back. 

The young man stared at the door in bewilderment. The large storm of a woman had vanished as quickly as she had arrived.  He wished all at once to see to see her again and to never cross paths with her in the future. It was all very confusing to him.

The tradesman, at this point, took his position back behind the counter, willing business to get back to it as usual. The young man tucked the dirty kerchief back into his pocket, searched and found the book he had been originally studying from on the table. A few pages were missing, the rest were smeared and stained… with what, he did not want to know, but that was not important to him. Though he had but a few coins to his name, he knew the value of knowledge, and as small as this book was, it contained information he had yet to know. His sharp mind thirsted for new knowledge, even more than his stomach craved food. Though even as he held it, his rational brain reminded him he would regret this decision later tonight, when his stomach started to growl, hunger gnawing at his insides.


With the book tucked under his arm, the young gentleman approached the tradesman, who was leaning back in a chair, his feet propped up. The tradesman eyed him suspiciously. Though at first glance he was dressed as someone of a noble household, it did not take a very well- trained eye to see that he had not changed clothes for several weeks (months maybe?), and there were telltale sign of battle on his suit as well.  A rip here, a scorch mark there. Must be another adventurer, he thought, though judging from the staff covered in runes and topped with a dark red glowing crystal slung across his back, he was more of the cerebral type. 


“Can I help you?” the tradesman asked, though it came out in way that conveyed “you better have a way to pay for that book.”

 
With the Nord woman gone, his usual disdainful personality was back with a vengeance.


The young man blushed again, feeling exposed under this man’s gaze. He set the book on the counter and waited in silence. Normally, people would bargain, make deals, anything, to walk out with what they wanted, having spent as little money as possible. Not this man. The tradesman could tell he wasn't good at bargaining. He had no  face for bluffing . And while he may be  talented in many other facets, this was clearly not one of them. He reached into his outer pocket, fingers reaching for the meager number of coins he had there, tied up within his tiny coin purse. But he felt something different there, something bulkier than his coin purse, something with string wrapped tightly around it. His throat caught, and he looked down, holding his pocket wide. It was a little package, an odd shape, wrapped in cloth and tied up. 


It was the medicinal herbs the Nord woman had been searching for. The little bundle must have fallen into his pocket without his knowledge, when she had dumped her bag on the table.


“I…” he stammered, his head snapping up to look at the tradesman, who didn’t seem aware of the young man’s discovery, and he was thankful for that. “I’ve  lost my money,” he said stupidly. And before the tradesman’s sneer could turn into derisive words, the young man shot around him and ran for the door, tripping clumsily in his haste to  reach for the handle. 
Without another word, the second weirdest customer of the day was out in the street, trade ALSO  incomplete. Then tradesman looked at the only patron left in the shop, and prayed to Zenithar they wouldn’t do the same.

*  *  *  * 

Yagaritte dropped her satchel on the cobblestones at her feet, looking up into the summer sun. Though it was indeed summer, there were still patches of snow on the ground and upon the rooves, water dripping from half melted icicles dangling from the eaves. She closed her eyes and warmed her face. It was not cold to her, not even in the slightest.  Even though those around her rushed by in lush furs or tattered rags, huddled over to keep warm, she had only her armor and thin boots. She didn’t even bother with her furs this time of year.  In fact.. The sun was making her a bit warm.  

She unlaced her deer leather reinforced bodice and unbuttoned her shirt . There, that was better, she thought to herself.  The “girls” were getting a bit cramped in there all day anyway. Yagaritte was not just tall for a nord woman, she was also bustier than most, curvier of hip than most, even narrower of waist then most. To put it quite frankly the Gods had been kind to her.. And then gotten drunk and decided to show off. Not that she thought so or that she even cared really.  However she did know how to use it to her advantage when the situation called for it..and sometimes even when it was just for fun.


She looked toward the west, where the sun was just starting to set. She sighed softly. She had already raided the caves once today, she did not fancy doing it again. She reached into her satchel and pulled a worn map out looking at it intently. There was another cave, one that was further, but perhaps had more abundant herbs. Or was maybe not so well guarded by winter wolves, she wondered, hopefully. She folded the map back neatly, and tucked it back into her bag. With the sun setting soon , she didn’t want to travel so far, even with the chance that it could be an easier job this go ‘round. And with that, it was decided, she would revisit the caverns from earlier in the day. But first, a snack.

* * * * *


The young man pulled the collar of his jacket up as he trudged through the streets, dodging beggars and sweeping shopkeepers. Though his clothing, to the eye not keen on the finer details, was rather elegant, it did not provide much protection against the cold. It would be getting dark soon. The wind was surging from time to time as if to remind him he wasn’t prepared for what was coming. He’d suffered through more than a few nights of this already, now that the rest of his savings had been exhausted by one of the local inns. Already his cheeks were colored a bright pink, and his teeth were chattering. 


“Why did I pick such a terrible place to run to?” he asked himself silently, shaking his head. But in truth, he hadn't picked it. He had simply handed  90% of all the wealth he had in the world to a shifty looking Khajiit who had promised to get him “Soo farrrr from wherrrre you arrrre that even yoooo won’t be able to find yourrrrr way baack!”

 
He forgot to mention he also wouldn't be able to find work or any source of money, and on some occasions, not even a warm place to spend the night. 
They had laughed at him when he tried to join the fighters guild. “On an island loaded with real men who can swing a sword, who's going to hire a midget with a stick!?  We’ll call you if we need someone to read a book at someone!” He’d wanted to argue with them at that point that THIS midget could burn down the guild hall with THAT particular stick..but had again held his tongue to avoid unwanted attention.


He shook his head at himself, and looked up, squinting against the setting sun. “Where am I going… WHAT am I doing? Why am I so determined to become involved with that mountain of a woman? With ANY woman for that matter?” he berated himself. 


Aside from his mother  he’d never had much luck with any woman, romantically or otherwise. His heart twinged at the memory of his mother, but he pushed past it.   It was desperation, he told himself.  That and his innate concern for anyone who struggled to survive.  She may be a giant, but she did not look like a rich giant.  He had no idea what those herbs were worth, but he knew they were worth something to her, and  that in itself was enough reason to continue his search.


Had he had a proper soul gem he could have enchanted some semi valuable object as a locator. Then again, if he had a proper soul gem he could have sold it for enough gold to buy a week at the best inn in town and still have money left over. The wind blew a particularly strong gust right up the back of his tailored jacket.  He turned toward the now setting sun in a futile attempt to warm himself in its final beams of the day.
That’s when he saw her.


Tall, beautiful, strong. The ripening sun struck her coppery hair and made it shine bright as any precious jewel he had seen before. She had that kind of raw primal beauty that was only achievable by someone who didn’t care if they were beautiful or alluring. She was leaning against the outside of a clothier’s shop, her bag at her feet. She had a small indiscernible bundle in her hands, and she was taking huge, gulping bites from it. At that, his stomach growled. He had been looking for her for the better part of an hour, but now confronted with her practically glowing as the sun set behind her, he froze. 


“Now what?  What do I say...what do I do??  What if she laughs at me?” he agonized.  That laugh, that deep throated, melodious, enchanting laugh. It had had an almost mesmerizing effect on him back in the shop, strong as any Magicka he’d ever seen or produced.  It was what made him glance in her direction. He was standing there debating with himself if he was willing to face her scorn just for chance to hear that laugh again, when she happened to look up. 


Yagaritte smiled when she spotted him, a bit of crumb sticking on her chin. She waved him over. He made a soft sound of disbelief, but moved towards her all the same. He might be shy. He might be nervous, but, …. he was NOT rude. 


“You didn’t buy a book?” she asked him as he slowly shuffled toward her. She noted that his face was red from the cold, and his clothing not properly suited to the climate. Like her, he did not have on a coat. The only difference was, he was clearly suffering for it.


“E-Edovan…” the young man murmured. Yagaritte looked at him quizzically, then laughed, that beautiful, full laugh of hers. She offered him what was left of her meal in one hand, and held the other out, empty, for a handshake. “Yagaritte,” she said. The customs of this man’s home land must be very strange, indeed. 


Edovan took her hand, though his own was trembling, but despite the cold weather, slightly warm (and sweaty?). Yagaritte took it, paying no mind to the state of his clammy skin. Her own hand was warm. Almost hot to him. She laughed again, breaking the shake and pushing the food bundle between his fingers. Edovan took it, cradling it against his chest. As hungry as we was, he was not entirely sure he was ready to accept this stranger’s generosity. Yagaritte paid no mind, and instead bent to sling her satchel back across her shoulders, stretching her arms out wide as she came back up. She stifled a yawn.


It was then that Edovan remembered the little package of herbs in his pocket. He fumbled with the food, but folded its packaging neatly, sliding it gently into the pocket on the other side of his jacket. Who was he kidding? He would eat it without a second thought, the moment he had a chance. He reached into the other pocket and took the bundle, holding it out to her. He didn’t know what he was thinking… what her reaction would be. He only wanted to return her prize to her. He had no idea what to expect, but as he saw the flash of lightning in her eyes, he realized his mistake too late.
In a flash she had grabbed him by his collar and hoisted him into the air effortlessly. “Why you little thief!” she thundered, as she threw his small frame against the shop wall, feet dangling in midair. “HOW DID YOU TAKE THAT FROM ME!!!” 


He should have been terrified, and in truth he very much was. The rational side of his brain was ringing all sorts of alarm bells, the logical voice in his head said flatly ”...this is it… this is how you die...” But at the moment it was being overruled by the more primitive part of his brain, the primal part responsible both for the survival and continuation of the species. For at this moment, the giant woman had pinned him against the wall of the shop with her rather prodigious bosom, and he could feel the warm satiny soft skin of her breast against the bottom of his cheeks on either side of his face. And while it was a lovely feeling, probably the softest thing he’d ever been allowed (or in this case, forced) to touch, he knew that no good would come of it.


“N-no.. no!” Edovan stammered, eyes flicking back and forth in a panic. He was trying to form words but his brain was in a pink haze, his mind foggy, and he was starting to sink further still into the canyon of her cleavage. “I found them!”  he gasped finally, as his face sunk further, somehow. “I-I found them in my pocket!” he mumbled, voice lost amongst her flesh, hoping she would believe him.


Yagaritte looked down at him, as his face had reddened beyond that of just the cold. She was suddenly aware that tiny man’s face was buried in her breasts and that more importantly HE was aware. . His voice seemed so strained and muffled that she started to laugh, but stifled it, eyes glimmering like someone who’d found a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. This was a true jackpot! She decided to have a little fun with him..   She intentionally loosened her death grip on his collar and straightened her back, pressing into him even more,  pushing her chest against his face further, pinning his head back against the stone. She could see the blush reaching now even to his ears. If it were possible, she thought, his whole body... hair, clothes, and all, would blush in embarrassment at this moment. She laughed again, enjoying her power over him.  Her anger abated somewhat, she continued to tease him 


 “What's the matter little mouse?  Don’t you find me attractive? Don’t you like my breasts?” she asked, her voice taking on a noticeably sexier tone, husky and heavy. 


She knew how to play it, and she knew the answer to that question already. He was practically glowing red. There was the most imperceptible hint of a nod, though he did not look up into her face, his eyes squeezed tightly closed. She wasn’t about to let him go though. She decided to use this opportunity to gather what information she could, for there is never a better time to do so, then when you basically hold a man’s life in your hands. Or cleavage. Either works.


 “Good,” she said, slowly leaning her neck down to bring her face as close to his as possible. “Because if you don’t start talking, and giving me answers I like... you...little mouse...are going to drown in them.” 


She spoke slowly and deliberately, and the ‘them’ was an obvious reference, even to someone whose brain had all but turned to mush. She smiled, an overly wide smile that was more predatory than friendly as she bared her perfect teeth. 


“I see the large staff you are carrying, you’re some sort of mage, I take it. Did you use magic to take my herbs?”  


Edovan squeezed one eye open, looking up into her face after a few moments of silence. She was not blushing at all, as though she were used to crushing men to death with her enormous chest. In fact, her eyes had that familiar mischievous twinkle, and he knew that meant danger.


”I found them in my pocket!” he gasped into her cleavage.

 
Her mouth curled up into a smirk, and her eyes did not stop their twinkling. 
“Ohh, nooo...” she teased. “Looks like you're getting heavy... I can barely hold you up…” she said in mock distress. 


She released his collar and placed her hands flat against the wall on either side of him. She held him in place by the sheer pressure of her body against his, but she shifted her angle back ever so slightly so he began to sink again.


Oh, this was too easy! Panic lit his face as he realized how much of a compromising position he was finding himself in. 

“No no no, it’s true... y-y-you must have… they must have…!” he trailed off helplessly, his mouth and brain worthless in this particular  predicament. He took as deep of a breath as he was able, and tried again. “It must have fallen in my pocket when you dumped your bag on the… mrmmrmmffff!!”

The last of his sentence was lost amongst her breasts, never to be found again. She paused at that, biting her lip in thought, her wolfish grin gone for the moment, her face softening just so. It was actually plausible, and something she had not considered. His slow descent halted momentarily. 
“So you’ve followed me?” she asked, instead, deciding not to let him off the hook just yet.. How else would he learn? Her tongue flicked out and licked at her peachy-tinted lips. That was a move that always drove others insane. “I didn’t know I had a stalker,” she added, as Edovan squeezed his eyes tight again. It appeared he didn’t have an answer for her.


Edovan tilted his head back as far as he could, to take another breath. He started to struggle a bit, which only made it worse, as Yagaritte’s breasts were a force to be reckoned with,  a fact she was well aware of. She let her hand fall down from the wall, setting it on her hip.


 “I’m not a stalker, I swear!” he huffed, having gotten his breath back, staring back up at her more boldly than he had done anything since they had first met. She raised an eyebrow at that. Maybe he had a little fire in him after all. As she looked down upon him, she noticed then that he had a rather handsome face. Large slightly angled soft eyes, those sculpted elven high cheek bones. His skin was darker than nords, but smooth and flawless, and his tousled brown hair still had a particularly well-kept sheen reserved for those of a higher class.


Yagaritte leaned back imperceptibly, giving him just enough room to breathe, but kept pressing against him with her lower torso so he remained at the level he was. She still wasn’t done with him. “Then why are you here?” she asked him, pushing a strand of hair from her face, annoyed. Why did it never stay where she put it!? 


Her breasts were no longer pressing in on his face, but still touching, and still far too close for comfort.  Edovan diverted his gaze upwards, into her face, which was also beautiful and scary, but somehow less intimidating than her breasts. 
“I’m a not a stalker,” he repeated, far more calmly this time. “I just… I just wanted you to have y-your herbs…” he added, holding his hand up again, open. The small bundle was still there, slightly crushed and a little sweaty.
Yagaritte tilted her head, she started to reach for the bundle from his palm, but hesitated. She was suddenly suspicious. That didn’t make any sense. Did he know know their worth? Could it be an elaborate plot orchestrated by the thieves’ guild? But no… what purpose would that serve? She thought back on her many, many past liaisons. There were any number of men, women, angry wives, even angry husbands who might want to pull a fast one on her. But they would all  be here in person. ..


Perhaps he was telling the truth after all?  But that begged a different question. Why would some foreign man, who only happened to be in same place as her for a brief moment in time, care if she were reunited with her missing herbs? 


She looked down at him there, his cute tiny blushing face peaking out from the deep valley of her cleavage. “Hmmm , she thought., I see TWO reasons right here”


“You sure that’s all you wanted?” Her voice had gone husky again.   Her eyes flashed and the predatory grin was back. “Maybe you really wanted these...”  She said, as she pressed her arms together, squeezing his rather pleasing  little face even tighter between her peaks. If that’s what he was really after she might be willing to oblige.  But only after she’d had her fun with him her way. She brought her leg up between his and not so subtly pressed her knee up into the fabric of his tailored breeches.


He was really starting to struggle now, a full on struggle with feet kicking, hands trying in vain to push her away. Not that it made any difference, she was much more powerful than he was. She was enjoying this far more than she should. She hadn’t had this much fun in a while!

“Told you so,” The logical voice in his head flatly intoned. Well, this was the end. The walls were closing in around him, the pressure was increasing, and it was getting darker as his face was buried in flesh, mouth and nose now completely covered and sealed by the soft but heavy mountains rising up around him. His vision was starting to narrow as darkness seeped in slowly around the edges, his mind dimming. He could hear and feel the vibration of the steady thumpthump of her heart. It called him like a drumbeat into the darkness.


He had a half delirious thought that if he died here, they should damn well bury him here, right here in the ivory-pink mountains that had been his undoing. Then, he could hear that melodious laugh for eternity. Feel it rumble through and all around his bones, a warm, pleasurable feeling that would last forever..


“This wouldn't be so bad...“ his lizard brain said.


”Let's just rest right here...“


Logical brain nodded in silent agreement.


It struck him, then, just as the last bit of light was fading, as he had accepted his fate. A jolt of electricity passed across his synapses, instantly snapping him to full awareness. The one thing he could say that might appease the amazon bent on burying him alive in her bosom. Or at the very least, give her pause. The TRUTH.  He had wanted to get her her herbs back of course. But that wasn’t the real reason he had been freezing himself, wasting his precious energy on a fool's chase.


Yagaritte was staring down at him as her power trip faded. Oh gods... is he turning blue? She realized then that he was no longer kicking or putting up any struggle, just hanging limply between her arms. But just as she was about to release him (and possibly try to administer a different kind of mouth to mouth), she saw him stretch his head upward one last time.
Edovan took a deep breath and then blurted loudly: “Your laugh!!”


The words hung there in the silence.. She stared at him quizzically for a few seconds, her composure a bit shaken. She lowered her leg, tilting her head as she straightened up some. “My… what??”  


“Your laugh… th-th that’s why I followed you…” Edovan said, even as he gasped for breath. His head felt fuzzy, muted, muddled.


Her heart skipped a beat, and her brain was working furiously. Yagaritte knew men, she knew plenty of them, and they were all the same. They all wanted something from her, usually with very little in return. Her praise, her body, a job... some even wanted her to “punish” them, a fate she may or may not oblige, depending on her mood and how much ale or whiskey she may have consumed at a particular feast night. She knew men, alright, and could take them or leave them at her own whim. But this small one was different. He was not some wealthy dilettante, with a thing for tall girls, or lecherous old noble who wanted to keep her for his collection (long story, that. She still had his best furs as her camping bedroll). She had determined, within this short amount of time, that this man, this diminutive, shy man, could not have stolen her herbs. He had never stolen anything in his entire life.   


She stared down at him again and was suddenly conscious of two facts:
 First, were his eyes always that golden? They looked so big and soft and kind, but somehow tinged with a deep sorrow. One that caused her heart to clench in her chest. 


Second, why was she was still all but smothering him with her breasts??
Her heart skipped two beats this time. This was no slimy weasel to be trapped, this.. was a perfect, skittish fawn, the kind you never expect to see until you barge into a clearing in the woods and he’s just standing there,  staring at you like the damn Prince of the Forest..and you exhale and he darts away into the trees leaving you momentarily breathless and and yet somehow changed forever… 


or, at least for the rest of the day.


For the first time in her adult life Yagaritte didn’t know how to handle a man.  It was very unsettling. She wanted to talk to him, find out more about him, but he probably just wanted to get as far away from her as possible now, after she had tried to end his life by breasticide.
She placed her hands at his sides and gently, gingerly leaned back, slowly lowering him till his feet were once again on solid ground. She breathed an internal sigh of relief to see that the color had settled back into his face, no longer red, no longer blue.


She slowly took the package of herbs from his still outstretched hand. She tucked the herbs into her belt to keep them safe, and then gently began to unruffle and smooth out his now rumpled clothing. “You’d better hurry home,” she said, looking back at the sun, which had almost set entirely during their conversation. It would get colder soon, and some unsavory things happened in these streets under the protection of night. “I’m sure your pretty little wife is missing you dearly,” she added nonchalantly.  
Edovan blushed again, shaking his head fervently. (Wife!? He’d never even courted a woman before, much less married, or lain, with one.)
Yagaritte laughed at his reaction, she had suspected as much, but she had to be sure. Not that NOT being single had ever stopped her before.

 Yagaritte was of the firm opinion that if anyone was in a strong relationship they wouldn’t stray, so the fact that someone wanted to stray with her meant their relationship was in trouble anyway. She herself had had many marriage proposals over the years, but had no  truck for that kind of folly.  If you don’t tie yourself to anyone they can’t cut the cord between you. Still with someone as pure as this little fawn she would have at least thought twice before bagging and tagging him!


She adjusted her satchel closer to her body. It wouldn’t do to leave herself open to pickpocketing. And definitely no good for the fool who would try it. 
It was time to lay out the bait.. “A strong young man like you still unattached?  What a pity.   Well,  I must be going now little mouse.. Thank you,  for bringing back my herbs. Maybe I’ll see you around? ,” she said, pressing a small coin into his hand, that seemingly came out of nowhere.


With that, she turned abruptly and strode off, heading back towards the town center. She furtively glanced behind her to make sure he was watching and added just the right amount of swing to her hips, not enough to be sent to a brothel, but enough to send the signal she intended.  


“Wait..  what just happened?” Edovan’s mind raced. One second he was about to blackout in the ample bosom of the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and the next she was just striding away!? Did he say something wrong? That he complimented her laugh...really, was that it? True or not, he doubted that was something women longed to hear. Or had she taken a good look at him and decided he was too small to be of ANY use in ANY capacity? He blushed again at the thought. One thing was for sure, his rational brain still needed to find a source of income, some food, and hopefully a warm place to stay for the night. And the one adventurer who had ever gave him more than a passing glance was now quickly disappearing from sight...

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