Ch57: Looking at Dirt & Discussing Elvish Insecurities

“Just gardening?” Krvavy curiously asks. She feels like there is more to it than that, considering her Elf’s tone and all.

“Aye, but not really~!” Beryl giggles back, beaming with joy. “There isn’t all tha’ much we can do wit’ wha’ Ah ‘ave planted right now. Just a bit o’ wa’erin’, some preemptive weedin’, and waitin’ fer everythin’ ta grow. So don’t ya worry, it won’t be anythin’ like last time. Ah’m not makin’ ya dig around in the dirt like tha’ again~! Not just yet, at least~.”

Krvavy nods, as it sounds like Beryl just wants to show off her work, and that is completely fine with the barbarian. She is curious about what exactly this tomboy got done in the week that she had been gone.

“But first things first,” The tanned Wood Elf claps her hands together, catching Khalia’s attention. “Lie down! Ya can ‘ave a rest now! Oh, good girl~!”

The Orc yawns as she does exactly what the Elf asked of her, dropping down to the ground and curling up on a patch of moss. There is a good chance that she would have done that even without being ordered though. Khalia doesn’t exactly understand... well... any language.

With that settled, Beryl gently grabs Krvavy’s hand and quietly leads her lover off towards the spot where her garden has been planted. The Elf’s smaller and far more nimble fingers interlock with the Drakling’s larger digits as they walk that relatively short distance through the grotto. A light blush fills her tanned cheeks, drawn out by that little bit of contact.

“It... doesn’t look like much, does it?” The lithe tomboy stifles a sigh as they arrive, her shoulders sagging slightly. Her garden is little more than a plot of tilled dirt with a few sprouts just starting to poke up through the soil. “Ah’m sorry, Ah–”

“Don’t apologize.” Krvavy firmly tells her Elf, squeezing Beryl’s hand in her own. “Plants take time to grow. Even I know that.”

“But Ah could’a used my magic ta make them grow faster fer ya. It’s just...” Beryl hesitates, taking a deep breath before continuing in a more defeated tone. “Ah’m not very good at growin’ food wit’ magic. They always taste a bit wa’ered down and are less fillin’. Ah’ve ‘ad well over a century ta practice, but Ah never really applied myself... Ah just let my skills advance as Ah naturally used them...”

Still holding onto the Elf’s hand, Krvavy brings her other one up to Beryl’s face to gently lift the tomboy’s chin. “There’s nothing wrong with that.” The barbarian reassures her saddened Elf. “You don’t have to spend every minute of every day trying to better yourself. Besides, growing food with magic seems like a pretty niche thing. You’d only really need to do it in emergencies, so it doesn’t really matter if you can’t do it perfectly. Can’t exactly complain about it being a bit watery if the only other option is starving.”

“It... it isn’t just tha’.” Beryl tiredly admits, her blue-green eyes dropping down. “Ah was only level twenty-four a few decades back, before Ah lost my last love. Ah pushed myself as ‘ard as Ah could trying ta find ‘er, gaining over a dozen levels in weapon proficiencies and a whole bunch more scattered throughout my other skills. But it still took so long fer me ta level up ta where Ah am now... Ah just...”

The tomboyish Wood Elf moves in and hugs Krvavy, burying her face between the barbarian’s breasts. “Ah just don’t want ta be useless...” She quietly mumbles out.

Krvavy furrows her brow and stares down at the top of Beryl’s head. “You are not useless.” She states, her tone soft but stern. “You are anything but that. Seriously. You are great. I know that there isn’t all that much to do around here, but you still do more than I could ask. You’re way better at hunting then I am, and once your garden is set up we’ll have a nice steady source of fresh food too. And don’t forget that the other two rely on you too, though that is mostly because Thea can’t cook...”

“Aye, if ya say so...” Beryl doesn’t sound particularly convinced. After a moment, she begins to slowly trail her nimble fingers up and down the Drakling’s sides, feeling the strength hidden beneath pale white skin and black scales alike. “But tha’ doesn’t change the fact tha’ it is only a matter o’ time until ya leave me behind in the dust. Ah am gettin’ ever closer ta reachin’ my full potential, but ya will keep growin’ stronger and stronger...”

“That is what you’re worried about? Why?” Krvavy questions, bringing a hand up to rub the back of Beryl’s head. “I don’t care about that. Not one bit. Really, just look at the other two. Sure, Thea’s new sex magic gives her a chance to grow stronger, but I don’t expect her to become all powerful or anything like that. And Khalia, well, I’ll be happy if we can even teach her how to speak again.”

Beryl’s head tilts back and her big blue-green eyes, glistening with self pity and sorrow, gaze up from between Krvavy’s breasts. “Ah want ta stay by yer side fer the rest o’ my life. But there’ll come a day when Ah’m just a... liability ta ya. When worryin’ about keepin’ me safe would only distract ya.”

“That... To be completely honest, I’m already worrying about that.” Krvavy sheepishly admits, gently stroking her Elf’s tomboyishly short hair as an apology. “I can come back from the dead. You can’t. So I would easily throw my life away to save yours. And how powerful you are or aren’t will never change that. You could be strong enough to kill me with a single flick of a finger and I would still jump in front of a sword to save you.”

Beryl frowns ever so slightly at that. “My dearest love, ya can only die so many times. Ya–”

“And you can only die once.” Krvavy interrupts the Wood Elf woman, her emerald eyes firmly and intensely staring down into Beryl’s bright, blue-green pair.

“Y-yes...” Beryl buckles ever so slightly. “But... Don’t waste yer lives. Please. Ah... It was bad enough learnin’ tha’ ya died after the fact, even wit’ ya right in front o’ me and bein’ the one sayin’ it... But Ah don’t know what Ah’d do if ya just didn’t come back one day...”

Krvavy deeply sighs. She completely gets where Beryl is coming from, but the Elf isn’t going to change her mind. Krvavy has never dealt with loss well, and she doesn’t want to lose what she has now. Whether it is real or not, she is happy for the first time in decades, perhaps even her whole life. “I don’t want to die either. I really don’t. But if it means that I won’t lose you, or the other two...” The barbarian leaves that hanging for just a moment. “You don’t need to worry though. I’m not going to be reckless and needlessly throw my lives away. I... can’t have you if I’m dead for good.”

“Tha’ is all Ah can ask fer.” Beryl breathes out, before burying her face into Krvavy’s breasts once more. “Ah’m sorry fer bringin’ this up ‘ere...” She mumbles quietly. “Ah should be showin’ ya my garden...”

“You don’t need to apologize so much, and definitely not for that.” The barbarian reassures, stroking her Elf’s hair. “You are just worried, I get it. Don’t feel bad about talking about how you feel. I want to be there for you when you need me. And I definitely need you to keep advising me, to keep me from doing something stupid.”

After a few moments and a deep breath, Beryl pulls herself back from Krvavy. “Thanks.” She says with a sweet smile on her face, before her eyes begin to twinkle mischievously. Trailing a hand down Krvavy’s abs, Beryl grasps onto the barbarians softened cock, lips spreading into a teasing smirk. “Ya’re goin’ ta take responsibility fer robbin’ yer brat o’ ‘er virginity, aye? Fer stealin’ ‘er maidenhood, fer despoilin’ ‘er~? Ah think tha’ ya should take responsibility fer what ya’re doing ta me too~! In a way, ya’ve already given me a ring, albeit a large one fer my neck, so Ah’m already like yer wife~!”

Krvavy is momentarily stunned by that sudden and abrupt change in tone. She opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off as Beryl’s hand slides up her length and off of it, giving her swelling cockhead a quick squeeze along the way.

“Nuh uh~!” The cheeky Elf giggles as she skips back a few paces. “Don’t ya get excited just yet~! We still ‘ave all day until ya can bed me~! And right now ya’ve got a garden ta tour~!”

Beryl almost dances over to the plot of tilled earth, leaving Krvavy standing alone.

The barbarian sighs ever so slightly. Of course her minx of an Elf would take the opportunity to tease her...! Even now the nymph’s hands are trailing across herself, putting the tanned and toned body of hers on full display for Krvavy to see!

“Oh~! Don’t just stand there~!” Beryl reaches an arm out and slowly curls her fingers in, gesturing for the barbarian. “Come ‘ere~!” A wide, lewd grin fills her face.

Krvavy knows that Beryl is just messing with her, but damn if it isn’t working. Not only has the sad and serious mood completely faded away, but... Krvavy’s cock is painfully hard, desperate for release. A part of her just wants to bend the sexy tomboy over and take her right now.

She... she needs to keep herself in control though. Beryl would absolutely love for Krvavy to ravish her right here and right now, no question about that, but she can’t just give into these Elvish wiles so easy. She can’t just let Beryl win like that.

Loudly exhaling through her nose, Krvavy walks towards her Elf.

Beryl’s seductive act abruptly comes to a stop as soon as Krvavy is within grabbing distance. She quickly turns towards the garden and points a finger down at a group of sprouts. “These are the wild onions Ah planted. They’re growin’ rather well, and Ah think ya’ll like them. Ah didn’t ‘ave many options fer wha’ ta plant ‘ere, but Ah’m ‘appy tha’ Ah could find some o’ these growin’ in the area.”

Crouching down and gently poking the sprout, Beryl begins her suddenly serious tour of the garden plot.

“Very versatile plants, these wild onions. Each and every part o’ them is edible, and rather tasty. This little bit o’ green growing out o’ the soil is the scape, or stem if ya want ta call it tha’, which can be eaten raw or diced up ta be used as seasonin’, and it tastes a bit like an onion does. These scapes also sprout beautiful blue-pink ball flowers which make fer a good garnish if ya cut them up when they’re just buds. From wha’ Ah’ve seen bees also really like the nectar o’ these flowers, so if we ‘ad a hive we’d ‘ave a lot o’ ‘oney. Just somethin’ ta think about.”

The Elf’s dexterous fingers glide downwards, tapping the dirt.

“And then all the way back down, under the soil, ya’ve got the bulb.” A small but warm smile fills her face as she talks on and on. “It tastes like a more standard onion mixed wit’ a strong garlic. Surprisingly good fer a wild plant. The only problem is tha’ it’ll be quite some time before we can eat them: it’ll take at least a year fer the bulb ta grow. But in the meantime we’ll be able ta ‘arvest the scapes, as those’ll just keep sproutin’ up once the plant gets settled in. And it’s pretty easy ta know when tha’ ‘appens, as it’ll grow some wider leaves around the base. But those aren’t good fer much more than salads, so its better ta just leave them on ta ‘elp the bulb grow better, especially since there isn’t all tha’ much sunlight down ‘ere...”

Wiping the dirt off her finger and standing up, Beryl turns back to Krvavy. “It’s not the best thing ta grow, but it’s about as good as ya can get from a wild vegetable. Give me a few years, ‘alf a decade at most, and Ah’ll be able ta cultivate a better variety fer ya. Mostly ta make it bigger and grow quicker, but maybe Ah’ll refine the taste a little too.”

“You know quite a bit about these things, huh?” Krvavy says, sounding rather impressed. The mild annoyance – more frustration, really – that she felt over Beryl’s blatant teasing has quickly faded away. This tomboy’s enthusiasm is just... Krvavy can’t help but smile as she meets those beautiful blue-green eyes.

The tanned Wood Elf flushes slightly as she brushes a couple strands of hair behind her long pointed ear. “Well, Ah’ve lived out ‘ere fer quite a few years now, and while Ah’ve never grown any o’ my own Ah still ‘arvested more than enough wild ones ta pick up a thing or two. And don’t forget, Ah am the daughter o’ a couple farmers. Granted, they ran an orchard, but still.”

“And you can breed, or whatever, a better version in just a few years?” Krvavy curiously questions. “Didn’t you say that you aren’t very good at growing food with magic?”

“Aye, but it is a lot easier ta slowly influence the plants growth rather than make it grow fully right away. It’s like selective breeding, only wit’ magic involved.” Beryl gently smiles back. “And it’s somethin’ almost every Wood Elf does. Most families ‘ave their own unique varieties o’ fruits or vegetables growin’ in their gardens, which get passed down from mother ta daughter. They get changed a bit each generation, ta better fit the Elf and ‘er husband’s preferences, but not by much. People tend ta like the taste o’ wha’ they grew up wit’.”

The tomboyish Wood Elf frowns faintly, her expression falling. “Ah don’t have any o’ my mothers’ plants ‘ere though, not tha’ they’d grow well this far north anyway...” She shakes her head, pushing away those thoughts as a wide smile lights up her face. “But tha’ means we can start our own ones from scratch! Feel free ta give me any input ya ‘ave on them, from taste ta size and shape ta colour! Wit’ time Ah can grow the perfect food fer ya!”

The excitement that Beryl has for her garden is truly infectious. Krvavy leans down to give the Elf a quick kiss.

“Oh! N-no gettin’ frisky now~!” Beryl exclaims as the barbarian pulls back, her face flushed red. “Ah still need ta show ya the rest o’ my garden! And the berry bushes tha’ Ah planted around yer grotto. Ahem. Now, as Ah said, Ah didn’t ‘ave a great many choices on wha’ ta plant ‘ere, so Ah just ‘ave some wild carrots and tubers fer now.”

Crouching back down to point at a different sprout near the wild onions, Beryl continues. “These wild carrots are... not the best ta be honest. Ah’ll definitely be cultivatin’ a better variety, as they’re just too small and not as fillin’ as Ah’d like. At least they grow quickly though, so we’ll be able ta ‘arvest them fairly frequently.”

“But even if they weren’t good food Ah think tha’ Ah’d still plant a few.” The Elf states, glancing up at Krvavy. “See, Ah’ve noticed tha’ both they and the wild onions seem ta grow better when together, so they’re companion plants o’ a sort. Though Ah don’t know ‘ow much they’ll benefit each other or even ‘ow many pests’ll be down here...”

Krvavy just continues to smile, listening on as Beryl enthusiastically gives her tour.