#Ahhhhh I'm falling in love with Demsey

[thecandywrites]

Blood For Gold Part 3

Enjoy @kriskukko​ and @punkhorse96​ 

Blood For Gold

Part 3

Wednesday morning came all too soon. Out of everyone in the Morrigan family, you and Jane were closest, since you were only older than her by a mere five years, she only 17 and you, only 23, but she was incredibly sweet and kind and you insisted that Jane also get a new dress or two for the occasion. 

“This was supposed to be all about you Audra.” Jane gently argued from her spot in the next dressing room in the back of the shop. 

“Who says I can’t share my limelight- at least a little. I would much prefer to see you married off and matched with someone who would treat you like the treasure you are, than myself.” You told her as you peeled your first and frankly hideous dress off your frame. 

“But not for another two years at least, I do not think I’m ready yet.” She meekly replied. 

“Then that is what you should hold to. Do not marry until you are ready, too much disaster can happen when you are not.” You advised. 

“But I don’t think you can last that long.” She murmured quietly. 

“We shall see,” You answered her with a heavy sigh. 

“I was mistaken for you when I came back from Kent.” You informed her nonchalantly. 

“By who?” She asked. 

“Duke Voyambi and Count Jabire.” You answered. 

“But I do not know them personally. I know of them, but not them.” Jane frowned. 

“But what do you know of them?” You asked curiously. 

“The Count only recently became a Count, I believe that title has only been in his family for less than three generations, it was given to them when their grain storehouses were full enough to go through the mill and make enough flour to get the whole of London through a hard winter after a bad drought of the summer, but otherwise it’s a humble family and according to Father, they are nowhere good enough for a Morrigan.” She murmured quietly. 

“And Voyambi?” You asked. 

“Oh, he’s a purist, he’s for union, which Father says is foolish, he’s very involved in making sure all orcs get better… everything, from treatment, to housing, to wages, to food and clothing. Father says he’s the only nobleman foolish enough to throw the classism that brought him so high away and in his efforts to raise all orcs up, will lower himself, but yet we still buy his soap because it’s the best quality around and to buy any other made outside the country is unpatriotic.” She repeated. 

“How did his family get the Duchy?” You asked. 

“Oh his grandfather was the king’s personal body guard and saved the king’s life repeatedly in the last war, he was made a Duke and his family has had the Duchy ever since, the soap had just been a family thing they always made for themselves that the king also enjoyed and when they received the Duchy, the king made the family the official soap makers of his realm, the Voyambi’s and Jabire’s both got their nobilities at the same time, along with the other half of the new money, a great many fortunes have been made and lost since industry has taken off. And both owe their wealth to their industries, that can come today and be gone tomorrow, their fortunes are not stable. So they are also not good enough for a Morrigan.” She answered before you both came out of the dressing rooms in the new gowns. 

“Besides, to lay with an orc is to kiss your cunny goodbye because they’ll destroy it and rip it to shreds, or so I’ve heard.” Jane whispered into your ear as you did your best to not burst from trying to contain your laughter. 

“What?” You asked. 

“Well, Mother always says that the bigger the cock, the smaller the brain too.” She continued to breathe into your ear. 

“Ah, ok. Thanks for letting me know.” You thanked her. Oh, if only she knew that it was an orc cock that finally rutted you right but just thinking about it sent a shiver down your spine. Demsey Draft’s orc cock had been just what you needed, and his mouth, and hands, and amazing body and passionate spirit. And he had smelled like that Duke’s soap too and he was remarkably clean for a male prostitute, even dressed nicely too. Well he had been a moura, all moura’s liked to keep clean at all times in all things and always dressed resplendently. 

“So what do you think of the dress Audra?” Jane asked, pulling you out of your reverie. 

“It’s beautiful.” You answered as you looked down and appraised it. It was much prettier than the last dress as you walked out into the show room to see none other than Duke Voyambi come in with a few orc women with him and your excitement at recognizing a friendly and familiar face died in your chest as Jane’s words were recalled into your mind. He would most likely only marry an orc woman, you didn’t stand a chance as you looked away just as Duke Voyambi noticed you were here and froze at the sight of you at seeing you there in a new and very fashionable dress, your gold moura marks a sharp contrast of the dark and rich burgundy magenta of your gown and especially to see them around your chest and your back, neck and shoulders and down your arms as you had been turning away from him, he was reminded of his own rutting the night before which he had tried to put out of his head and had hoped that his rutting had been the end of it, but now, all it did was fuel his own flame of desire for you to burn brighter and fiercer. 

“Countess Morrigan.” He greeted you which pulled your attention back to him before you smiled politely at him.  

“Yes Duke Voyambi?” Agnes greeted, thinking he had greeted her, curtseying in place as she plastered on a pleasant smile as you stood just a little straighter before you and Jane also curtsied respectfully to the Duke and his party who also curtsied in response as Jane came to stand closest to you as the Duke could now clearly see the difference between you and Jane, while Jane was also blonde, and fairly pretty in her own right, she was just a little plain next to you. 

“Audravienne, this is Duke Demsey Voyambi, his sisters, the Duchesses, Amara, Kiera and Callie Voyambi.” Agnes introduced as she practically dragged you over to them, her fist tight like a vice over your forearm before she let you go once you were close enough to them.   

“Your Graces, allow me the pleasure to introduce you to Sultana Audravienne Saharrazat, Divana of Kilan of Dorierra,” Agnes introduced you with quite the flourish as your eyes got wider as you looked at Jane who had come with you and was now flanking your left side as you two shared a meaningful look as your cheeks flushed and your ears burned while your moura marks flashed a rose gold for a moment as Jane stared in shock at her own mother. Normally her own mother turned her own nose up at them, but now she was practically pushing you onto them and no longer doubted her parent’s insistence that they needed to get rid of you, she thought they meant only get rid of you to who they deemed worthy, not just...anyone. 

Meanwhile the Voyambi’s were giving each other meaningful looks too as they looked you over curiously while Demsey tried to keep his composure as he realized all mouras must have marks like yours, he just never noticed. You had been stunning in black on Monday but now in brighter colors you were even more ravishing. 

“What beautiful tattoos you have Sultana,” Callie, his youngest sister praised as she noticed them. 

“They aren’t tattoos, they are my moura marks,” you gently corrected her as your marks pulsed rose gold again. 

“You’re a moura?” Callie asked, her eyes and her sister’s eyes growing wide with excitement as smiles bloomed on their faces. 

“Yes, that’s what Dorierra is- is a Moura country.” You answered, letting your moura accent become thicker than usual, since you had worked for the last two years stomping it down to try to sound more English but you could tell Agnes was going to “resell you” as pure moura, so you were sure your moura accent would probably be accepted again in this instance, instead of punished the way it usually was with the Morrigans. 

“Oh, do all mouras have marks like these?” Callie asked curiously. 

“No, most have markedly less, usually just the collar, maybe a feather or two on their backs and shoulders, I am one of the few remaining ‘true mouras’ the purer a moura’s blood, the more gold moura marks they will have, these moura marks would have been my moura cloak and wings before the Gold Death a hundred and sixty seven years ago- that wiped out the entire heavenly moura population and killed off roughly 80% of the world moura population, my family line was spared because we were mixed with human and elven races, but any purer, we would have died out too. So instead of flying the heavens, I just get to wear the reminder of what mouras used to be and what we used to have.” You answered somberly as Jane held your hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. 

“Sultana, you really shouldn’t be so dark, especially with new acquaintances,” Agnes tried to pleasantly chastise you with a forced lighter laugh. 

“Forgive me then your Graces.” You offered as you gave the Voyambis an apologetic smile as Demsey and his sisters were doing their best to remain composed as Demsey’s heart practically crushed inside of his chest as he wondered how a moura as decked out in moura marks as Audra's had been could be found in a brothel of all places. 

"Let's try some more dresses on Ladies." Agnes encouraged as she pulled you away and practically pushed you into the dressing room as she whispered some harsher criticisms to you along the way. 

"Your Graces, I really should apologize for her. She spent her whole life in Dorierra and she hasn't learned our manners and customs as well as she should have by now. But surely your Graces will forgive the Sultana's rudeness." She soothed as she came fluttering back over to them. 

"Oh she wasn't rude at all, she was just being informative. She's really very lovely." Amara reassured her. 

"Well I must say the Sultana would still make the ideal bride. She is so incredibly sweet and kind and caring." Agnes tried to praise.

"Is that the way she was with the Late Count Edward then?" Kiera inquired, doing her best to hide her suspicions from her tone so as not to openly offend the Countess. 

"Oh absolutely, she never left his side and she made sure his final years were spent in the greatest of comfort because that's what she has been bred to do- to cater to a husband and make him feel like a king or a sultan or an emperor even. No one can do better for breeding or brains or beauty than a moura. And the Late Count Edward even afforded her a dowry for her upon his death of 50 thousand pounds. She'll be the catch of the century and her mourning period ends in only twelve days, barely a week and a half from now and she'll be free and clear for the taking." Agnes informed them brightly. 

Now upon hearing that all the Voyambi's practically had their eyebrows shoot up into their hair line. 

“Don’t most people usually have to pay handsomely to the stables for a moura bride?” Kiera countered as in her own mind, red flags were being thrown all over the place.  

“Oh she just fell in love with England, she didn’t want to return.” Agnes lied as the Voyambi’s looked at each other meaningfully again but were discrete about it. 

“Yes, that’s why the Sultana is such a fantastic find!” Agnes insisted.

“Was there a reason why she didn’t return to the stables? I thought most mouras always return to the stables, especially in the case of widowhood.” Kierra probed, trying not to sound too suspicious. 

“Well then it’s a shame that the Duke is already attached to Lady Whitesale, but I’m sure you’ll find an overabundance of suitors for the Sultana.” Kiera urged firmly, even though that was in itself a white lie also but the last person she wanted the Morrigans to prey on was her brother, wolfish people as they were.  

“Oh, I didn’t realize that, forgive my interference then, I would just hate for someone who would be exceptionally worthy to miss out on such a prize as the Sultana,” Agnes offered to save face before she left to return to the dressing rooms to see how you and Jane were getting along. 

“I’ve never seen a trap so firmly set or a more falsely appetizing bait in my life.” Kiera muttered to her brother. 

“It does make me wonder why she didn’t return, the mouras always return, even if they have children, especially because they have children, mouras only leave the nest for a time before they return, they always return,.” Amara mused. 

“Maybe they are waiting for her to marry another and then have a child to bring her back then. Edward was older but not ancient, he could have had another ten or even fifteen years. But he only lasted barely a year with her. Besides, a moura’s beauty is always outmatched by their greed for wealth and power, of which we have little of either, especially compared the wolves of Broadcove. She would probably burn through such a fortune in less than a year because there are no greater golden leeches than mouras, there’s good reason why only royalty have them, for they are the only ones with enough funds to upkeep them, for however long or short you get to have them around.” Kiera practically sneered as they walked over to one of the displays, not knowing you were just on the other side of the very thin wall and could hear every word as you pressed your back against the wall as your gold moura marks seemed duller than usual as you simply pressed your head back against the wall and tried to blink back your tears as you did your best to remain composed. 

“Audra? Are you alright?” Jane asked as she came out to the other dressing room in her next gown which caused the Voyambi’s to gasp softly and hush themselves from over the small wall. 

“Yes of course,” you sniffed and put on a brave smile for her sake. 

“You should definitely get that dress Jane, it’s so becoming, blue is definitely your color, it brings out your eyes, and if your mother will not buy it for you then I insist I will. You deserve to look just as pretty as I do, if not prettier and I have the perfect jewelry to match at home.” You insisted before you brought her closer. 

“For who knows how long your parent’s generosity will last.” You murmured to her which made her erupt into a giggle as she readily nodded in agreement. 

“If it ever stops, promise me, whatever happens, you’ll come visit me yes? Our family ties are about to be broken but hopefully our bond of friendship never does.” You implored her as she eagerly nodded yes as you walked each other out of the dressing room to see the Voyambi’s in the process of discretely scattering away. 

You weren’t sure why you cared so much of what the Duke and Duchesses thought of you, but you hated for them to believe lies, even though you were sure that even if you could scream the truth, they wouldn’t believe you now. They were set against you. 

But at the same time, Callellea’s words still rung in your head, beware of who the Morrigan’s introduced you to, even though you technically already had met at least Duke Voyambi earlier while Jane’s words also weighed heavily on your mind. If the Morrigan’s would not approve of the Voyambi’s, even if the good Duke was interested, if anything happened further, there would be no way for you and Jane to remain friends, for you were sure Agnes and Richard would never let Jane visit you if you became a Voyambi. You had to admit that it was a bad fit all around as you looked over to see the Voyambi’s looking at stockings from across the dress salon’s sales floor as the Duke turned his head to cast another glance your way and your eyes met again. He did not look dangerous to you though. He looked...kind, and pleasant and amiable and a gentle-man, and now all you could do was hope that Lady Whitesale would be good to him and help him build a proper empire and not tear it down as fast as he could build it. 

“Ugh, don’t waste your time or your thoughts on the Voyambis Audra, they’re purists, and would only ever want an orc bride or groom, and Whiteales is one of the very few orcs in high society they are not related to and she is a piece of work and you’ll see that for yourself at the ball at Havenfield.” Agnes urged you as she puffed out the sleeves on your shoulders as you nodded in agreement. 

“Don’t worry Audra, we would never part with you over anyone not worthy and the Voyambis are a far cry from. Come, we will get these gowns too.” She insisted as you could tell it was her feathers that had gotten more ruffled than yours because her plan of dumping you on the first available gentlemen had practically spit it back into her face. 

“Of course Countess, thank you.” You thanked her softly before she grabbed your chin to have you look up at her but the action caused you to rear your head back and out of her reach, looking at her with frightened eyes, fearing she was going to smack you again and that was observed by Demsey and his sisters, all of who had their eyes widened at the implications of that. 

“Like a head-shy horse she is.” Callie breathed as she tried to discretely stare at you from around her brother.  

“Horses only get head-shy when they’ve been hit or hurt. She’s clearly been hurt.” Amara realized. 

“And maybe it’s that- that is the reason she is not welcome back to the stables, head-shy horses are nigh impossible to get into gear. If she’s head-shy, that means she may have been broken beyond fixing and no longer usable by the moura stables, they are a stable after all, they’d sooner turn a horse to glue than rehabilitate it.” Callie empathized. 

“All the more reason not to have anything to do with the Morrigans and especially the Sultana.” Kiera insisted before her brother and other sisters turned to glare at her as Duke Voyambi was ready to march across the shop and take you away from Countess Morrigan in that instant so you would no longer suffer at her hands because you were a victim in all of this, he was sure of it. He just didn’t know how to help as he just watched as Agnes gathered you and Jane up and left before his sisters felt comfortable to try on dresses themselves before Amara took the dressing room you had occupied and found your purse on the floor next to the chair and grabbed it and tried to catch you again but the note from Callellea fell out of it as Kiera practically pounced on it and ran with it after Amara. 

“Sultana!” Amara called after you as you were about to get into the carriage as Agnes was losing patience for you to actually climb into it so she could. 

“You forgot your purse Sultana,” Mara said as she finally handed it off to you once she caught up with you. 

“Oh my goodness, thank you so much.” You thanked her as you readily took it back. 

“And this flew out of it?” Kiera said as she held up the note from Callella from her spot several paces behind her sister which made your eyes go wide in fear which Amara definitely noticed. 

“Uh, that is only a receipt, you can throw it away Duchess, thank you so much for returning this to me,” you thanked them before you quickly got into the carriage as Kiera looked from the note and back to you with a frown. 

“What was that all about?” Kiera asked. 

“Here, give it to me,” Agnes insisted as she reached out for it.

“Oh it’s only a receipt. We’ll throw it away for her, it’s the least we can do.” Amara said as she took the note and discretely threw an actual receipt away into the garbage bin next to her while she pocketed the note herself before they waived you all off as Amara noticed you seemed relieved yet saddened by it, giving the trash bin a longing glance as you passed it before Amara ushered Kiera back into the store. 

“Did you not see the way Aurdra became white as a sheet at the prospect of the Countess having this? It’s important that the Countess not have this.” Amara insisted as she pulled the note out of her pocket to see what it was before all of her siblings gathered around her to try to read what was written on it. 

“I knew it, those Morrigans are wolves.” Amara whispered hatefully as she read it. 

“It still doesn’t explain why the Morrigans are so eager to push the Sultana off.” Kiera argued as she took it and read it for herself before Demsey took it and read it too. 

“I know why.” Demsey volunteered before his sisters looked at him eagerly. 

“When Count Edward died, he left a living for the Sultana and that living which I heard a rumor Count Richard contested, and is most likely how she can afford to keep Mirador on her own as a widow. I don’t know how much it is, but it must be enough for the Morrigans to not want to pay it any more than they absolutely have to, they’ve been stuck with having to pay it while she’s been in mourning. The Count and Countess Morrigan hoard wealth and resources like the world is ending tomorrow, and the Sultana is obviously a leaky drain they wish to stop up. They’re going to be pushing the Sultana off on anyone they can and they’re hoping that putting a price on her head as high as fifty thousand pounds, that it will be enough to tempt anyone and everyone, come that ball and every other social event from now until the end of the season, the Sultana will be the bait in a dog fight.” Demsey realized. 

“But that is not our fight,” Kiera insisted. 

“If she was a jewel orc, which is what one gets when they mix orc and moura together- which we all know are one of two breeds of orcs allowed in the stables, your tune would be completely different Kiera. You’d be the first one to push me towards her and rescue her from them because you don’t like Lady Whitesale any more than I do which she is barely tolerable at best. But because the Sultana is human, elf and moura, you’re against it when she is still, obviously, the victim in all of this. Moura brides have no say so in who they marry, she was married for a year, widowed overnight and then immediately shipped off because it took less than a week between Edward being known as having passed and her moved into Mirador. There is obviously interference between her and the stables for other letters from them to go awry before they reach her. Mouras are social creatures, you isolate one, you weaken it. She’s clearly been on her own for two years by my calculations.” Demsey firmly countered.  

“How would any of us fare if we were isolated from our own kind, shipped off to a country that was alien to us, match us with a stranger and expected everything to be ok? The fact that she is just now learning she has a people here, and it is probably that- that has her fearing Countess Morrigan. It’s what abusers do, they isolate their victims, then make them completely dependent and then dump them and leave them devastated. That is what is happening here. And it also means someone other than the Sultana is keeping her from the stables and other mouras and my bets are on the Morrigans because if she was to go back there, they would not be able to silence her so effectively, you saw her, she couldn’t breathe without the Countess correcting her and breathing fire down her neck. The mistreatment she has obviously endured at their hands must be so great that it threatens what is left of the Morrigan family honor. But the Morrigan’s are obviously fed up with paying for it and because they are old money and old nobility, even if the Sultana and us were to speak out about it, who would believe us let alone her? But it must still be- threat enough, for the Morrigans to try to play nice for now.” Demsey reasoned. 

“So what we are going to do, is we are going to get whatever ribbons and lace and whatever else we need from here, we are going to get lunch, and then we are going to wait for the Sultana to return home, we are going to give this back to her, because this is the only touchstone she has of home she has because while she’s in mourning, she can’t reach out to others, as are the customs here, and then we are going to ask if we can help in any way. Because she obviously needs our help. If she is going to be bait in a dog fight, at least we can deter a dog or two if we can’t pull her out.” Demsey insisted as he folded the note back up and put it into his breast pocket for safe keeping as that seemed to settle the matter as Callie and Amara were proud and pleased for while Kiera simply huffed in annoyance. Her brother’s bleeding heart was going to get him in trouble one of these days.