Aug 292012

Nash Nighthammer waited in the darkness.  The graveyard was quiet and the crescent moon hung high in the sky.  Somewhere a Dire Wolf howled at the moon until the howl was cut short by something nastier than a Dire Wolf.

Nash gripped his warhammer.  A ghoul had been feeding in this graveyard and the good people of the village had asked him to kill the monster.    The village had no money but Nash took the job.  It wasn’t right for a creature to eat the bodies of the dead.

The ghoul would appear at any moment.  Nash would be ready for it.  Nash’s warhammer would smash in the teeth of the bone eater. 

“Are you my Odik?” a voice asked.

Nash turned to the source of the voice.  It was a glowing woman.  She was young with small curves barely pushing against her peasant’s dress.  The dress was short, as was the style a hundred years ago.  Her hair was long waves of brown.

“No, milady,” Nash said.  He had been raised to always be polite to women; especially the dead ones.

“My beloved is a brave warrior,” she said.  “My name is Pirella.”

Nash smiled.  It was an old name.  Even Nash had heard of the widow, Pirella.

“It is an honor to meet you, Pirella,” he said.  “But I am hunting a monster and I am trying to ambush it.  Perhaps you should look for your beloved near the gate?”

Pirella shook her head.  As she did, her hair shortened from the long tresses of youth to the more sensible shoulder length of adulthood.  Her curves expanded and her face was grooved with lines of worry.  Her dress added several layers of expensive cloth.

“My Odik hunts monsters too,” Pirella said.  “He went off to slay the Great Tiger of the Mountain.  He swore he would return to me.”

Nash nodded.  He knew the story.  Everyone did.  “I am sure he will keep his promise,” he said.  No one really knew what happened to Odik, but everyone knew that someone slew the Great Tiger.  In most versions of the story, Odik died of his wounds and was lost in the mountains.  Nash didn’t feel it was right to tell this spirit that story.

Pirella looked to the east.  “My father wants me to marry.  I refuse.  I don’t care if my father’s lands go to waste.  I shall not marry another.”

Nash looked at the graveyard.  There was still no sign of the ghoul.  “Odik will return to you,” Nash said. 

Pirella sighed.  Her hair turned gray.  Her curves shrank and her dress turned black with mourning.  Her beauty turned into a kind of grim handsomeness. 

“I fear he is dead,” Pirella said.  “I dream his corpse lies in a valley no one can find.  Still, I shall wait for him.”

Nash said nothing.  He wondered if anyone would ever love him with that much devotion.  He had known the pleasures of many women, but mostly they adored his broad back, his immense muscles or his endless endurance.  Never was it his heart that they were devoted to. 

The cold night got a little colder.

The ghost of Pirella looked to the moon.  She sighed and she became young again.  Her hair turned into a rich brown and grew down her back.  The early buds of her breasts pushed against her dress.  The look of longing in her eyes remained the same.

“Are you my Odik?” she asked Nash.

“Nay, milady,” Nash said.  “He will be home soon.”

Pirella smiled. 

Nash looked away from the ghost.  Her devotion was making him think dark thoughts.  He wondered if anyone in his home village was waiting for him.  Perhaps Sinda, the miller’s daughter.  She had been kind to Nash and tumbled with him in the back of the mill a few times.

No, more likely she had married and had three kids by now.  She had looked sad when he left to go adventuring; then again, she was disappointed that he didn’t lay with her the night before.  Nash wondered if she smiled when the tales of his exploits reached her.

“Warrior, a fiend approaches from the north,” Pirella said.

Nash peered into the darkness.  A shadow detached itself from a tombstone.  It crawled along the ground on limbs twice as long as a man’s.  A sliver of moonlight illuminated its gruesome face.  Thick teeth, capable of crunching bone, grinned in a horrible smile.  Narrow eyes darted to and fro, looking for a fresh grave.  It was a ghoul and it had come to feed.

“Get to safety, milady,” Nash told the ghost.  He didn’t know if ghosts could die, but he wouldn’t be a hero if he didn’t try to protect her.

Nash rushed out from his hiding place.  Unlike other warriors, he didn’t yell or scream as he rushed his foe.  His stomping feet were the only warning the ghoul had.

He brought his warhammer down towards the ghoul’s head but the abomination was already moving out of the way.  Nash smashed an ancient tombstone instead and fragments flew everywhere.  The ghoul skittered behind Nash and leapt on the warrior’s back.

Nash tried to grab the monster on his back.  His hands kept slipping on skin that seemed to slide from the ghoul’s body.  The warrior stumbled around as the ghoul used his long legs to kick and keep Nash unbalanced. 

The ghoul reached around and dragged claws against Nash’s face.  Nash refused to cry out as his flesh was ripped.  The ghoul bit down on Nash’s bare shoulders and blood flowed.  The ghoul drank the fresh blood and spitted it out.  The taste of the living was abhorrent to it.

Nash’s shoulder ached with an unholy fire.  He ignored the pain and ran for a tree.  At the last minute he spun around and slammed the ghoul that was on his back into the tree. 

WHAM! The ghoul hit the tree and let go of Nash.  The warrior, who had never let go of his warhammer, swung for the ghoul’s body. 

THWACK! The ghoul dodged and Nash’s warhammer cracked the tree. 

The ghoul leapt towards Nash and tackled him to the ground.  The warhammer dropped from Nash’s hands.  They rolled in the dirt, the ghoul’s hands on Nash’s throat and Nash’s arms around the ghoul’s back.  They both squeezed and tried to end the life of the other.

Nash felt his tongue go numb.  His lips began to burn.  He knew he would die here.  His bones would be broken and eaten by the ghoul.  People would mourn, but no one would mourn enough to become legend.

A branch bounced of the head of the ghoul.  It looked in surprise at the glowing woman before it. 

“Leave Odik alone!” Pirella said.  She was an old woman but the anger in her voice was fierce.

The ghoul hissed.  It also loosened its grip on Nash’s throat. 

Nash sucked in a lungful of air.  His arms tightened around the gruesome monster.  The ghoul howled with rage as Nash’s powerful arms came together.  Rib after rib snapped until the final terrible ‘CRACK’ of the ghoul’s back.  The unholy light in the ghoul’s bulging eyes faded.

Nash pushed the ghoul off of him.  He stood up on shaky legs and took another breath.  He had survived after all.      

Something soft and fragile tackled him.  It was Pirella.  Grey hair rubbed against Nash’s chest as she embraced him.  She was weak with advanced age but she held him tightly.

“Odik, you returned to me!” Pirella moaned.

Nash smiled.  He put his arms around her and hugged her back.  She felt real in his arms.  It felt good to be loved. 

Even if by mistake.

Pirella looked up at him.  She was old but happy.  Her eyes burned with a fire of unimaginable joy.  Tears ran down her cheeks and into the grooves of years of sadness. 

Nash kissed her.  He wasn’t Odik but he would him for her.  Their lips touched and Nash was surprised by the warmth of her tongue.  She was long dead but her love was forever young.

He felt her change in her arms.  Her frail body became firmer.  Weak hands suddenly pressed stronger around his waist.  One of her hands was bold enough to grab his ass through his loincloth. 

He broke the kiss and looked at her.  She was a woman, ripe for marriage and a dozen children.  Her lips were full and her bosom was fuller.

“Odik, claim me,” Pirella whispered.  “I have waited forever.”

Nash laid her down in the graveyard.  The smell of flowers and summer promises swept over the two of them.  With infinite care he peeled the dress from her willing body.  Bountiful breasts were revealed, along with the valley between her thighs leading up to the thick bush of her desire. 

Nash hesitated.  It was wrong to take another man’s woman.  Even a man whose bones have turned to dust.

“Odik?” Pirella said.  She was young.  Barely a woman with small breasts and a nearly bare sex.  Her eyes were afraid.

“Odik, are you disappointed?” she asked.

“Never,” Nash said.  He made his choice.  It was wrong to take a man’s woman but worse to break a woman’s heart.      

Nash kissed her breasts.  The small apples of her breasts were tiny in his warrior’s hands.  His lips brushed her nipples with all the tenderness he could summon.

Pirella giggled like a virgin bride under his caresses.  “More,” she whispered.

Nash laid kisses down her stomach.  Her belly lost it’s slender youth and grew rounder with every kiss.  Nash’s hands gripped her hips and pulled her body to his mouth.

“Yes, yes, yes” Pirella said with the huskiness of a woman.  “More,”

Nash kissed down to her thighs.  He breathed in the scent of her sex, adorned with the gray hairs of age.  Her thighs were thin and ancient but he kissed them with the worship of a lover. 

“Now, please, I have waited so long,” Pirella moaned.  Her voice was hoarse with a lifetime of weeping.

Nash obeyed.  He tossed off his loincloth and took his manhood in hand.  Pirella opened her thighs for him and he pressed against her sex.

The young Pirella cried out as he entered her.  Her tight maidenhood broke under the gentle force of his thrust.

Nash moved slowly.  He remembered the rough wrestling of his youth but he knew this should be different.  His body moved in service to hers.  He controlled his own lust to allow Pirella to enjoy what she had craved for ages.

“Oh how I have imagined this, Odik,” Pirella said. 

Nash kissed her while his body continued to pleasure her.

Pirella grabbed his back.  Tender hands changed to the strong arms of a woman.  Nails dug into his back and he moved a little faster.  Woman’s thighs clutched around him while bolder hips increased the pace of his lovemaking.  She broke the kiss to moan and Nash smiled at the woman beneath him. 

The small hills of her breasts enlarged to the proud mountains shaking from the earthquake of their passion.  Pirella bit her full lips as pleasure overwhelmed her.  The tightness of her sex grew stronger with every clench. 

Nash slowed down as he felt the body underneath him grow weaker.  He kissed the lips as they grew thinner.  He continued to caress breasts that shrunk with age.  His manhood pulsed inside the woman that waited so long for someone to love her.

She was a young when she climaxed.

She was a woman when she climaxed again.

She was old and laughing when she climaxed a third time.

Nash came.  His manhood erupted inside her when she was young.  The pain from his battle earlier was washed away in a wave of pleasure.

Pirella was a woman when he relaxed on top of her.  He laid his head on her full bosom and sighed.  He felt good.

The old woman kissed the top of his head and gently pushed him from her.  He helped her as she stood up. 

“I knew you would come home to me, Odik,” she whispered.

Before Nash could answer, a light blossomed within Pirella.  The light grew so bright that Nash had to shield his eyes.  When the light was gone, so was Pirella.

The graveyard felt empty.  The smell of flowers was gone.  The ghoul rotted harmlessly by the broken tree. 

Nash looked to the sky.  He had a feeling that the ghost of Pirella would not be seen again.

  4 Responses to “Fiction: The Waiting Heart”

  1. Great story! Hot, yet poignant. I’ve missed Nash–glad to see him back.

  2. Aww, that is sad and very tender. I liked it a lot and glad to see Nash come back. :)

  3. OldFan- Thanks!

    t’Sade – I think sad and tender is becoming a Nash Nighthammer thing. Odd how the blunt object wielding brute is my sweetest character.

  4. Bittersweet

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