7. Thanks But I want to fuck

Chapter 7: Thanks But I want To Fuck

The party was in full swing by the time the sun dipped below the horizon. It seemed like the whole village had come out to celebrate the return of the women, and while I appreciated the gesture, the whole thing felt a little... excessive.

They'd gathered around a large bonfire in the center of the village, a feast spread out on every available surface. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the stench of sweat and cheap ale. The women—those who had been rescued—were laughing and dancing, as were the men. It was a scene straight out of some festival, all smiles, song, and merriment.

'And all I wanted was a goddamn meal that didn't taste like cardboard.'

I made my way over to the long table where the food was piled high, a huge slab of meat that had been cooked to perfection catching my eye. There was some kind of wild boar spit-roasting over the flames, its skin golden and crisp, with juices dripping onto the hot coals. I grabbed a plate and stuffed my face like a man who hadn't eaten in days—which, for all intents and purposes, I hadn't.

The villagers were practically falling over themselves in their gratitude. It wasn't just the chief's wife coming up to thank me; it was everyone. They were all so fucking grateful I almost wanted to scream. I could barely keep the fake smile on my face as they poured drink after drink into my mug, clinking it to mine like I was some sort of hero.

'Yeah, sure, I'm a hero. Real fucking humble of me, isn't it?'

At least the alcohol was better than the food. Strong, like something brewed with the soul of a hangover. I downed the mug in one go, gritting my teeth as the burn slid down my throat. The alcohol did its job, though. It kept my mind off the incessant parade of gratitude.

The evening carried on like that. The men were loud and boisterous, telling stories of battles and hunting, while the women danced around the fire, their movements like flames themselves. I stood to the side, watching it all unfold, my arms crossed as I leaned against a barrel.

I hated these kinds of celebrations. Hated being the center of attention, hated the constant thank-yous. I didn't save them for the applause. I saved them because I fucking had to.

Still, I couldn't deny the way my stomach felt better with each passing moment. The meat was tender, the ale stronger with every sip, and by the time I was three drinks deep, I finally allowed myself to relax. They weren't going to stop thanking me, so I may as well enjoy the damn food, right?

After what felt like hours of half-hearted celebrations, a familiar voice called my name.

"Kaizen!"

I turned to see Cole, his face serious as he made his way over, still clutching the papers he'd been scribbling on earlier. "Hey, man, you feeling alright?" he asked, his tone a mix of concern and amusement.

"I'm feeling fine," I grunted, finishing the last of the boar meat on my plate. "Just tired of listening to all the 'thank yous.'"

He chuckled, leaning in a little closer so no one else could hear. "Well, I got something to tell you. All the women? They were healed by the church's magic. They're completely cleansed."

I raised an eyebrow. "Cleansed, huh? What does that mean? They all feel... better or something?"

"Yeah, well, magical healing works wonders. Everything—physically, emotionally, mentally—they're all healed. That's what the church does."

I let out a deep breath, finally feeling the tension leave my shoulders. Good to know the women weren't carrying any lasting damage. Sure, I'd saved their lives, but I didn't want them dealing with the psychological scars of being touched by those damn goblins. Not for any longer than necessary, anyway.

As the night dragged on, the party continued. Songs rang out under the full moon, and people danced in wild circles, celebrating everything from the return of the women to the simple joy of being alive. If I was being honest, it was probably the first time in months I felt like the world wasn't falling apart.

I wasn't interested in the endless rounds of thank-yous anymore, though. I was just here for the food and the alcohol.

I spotted Ava standing off to the side, watching the crowd with a distant expression, her body still as the revelry swirled around her. The warmth of the bonfire lit her face, but there was something unreadable in her gaze. She wasn't part of the celebration like the others. It wasn't just a physical distance, but an emotional one too.

I approached, my boots crunching on the dirt as I made my way over to her. When she saw me, she didn't look away, but there was a slight shift in her posture—like she was bracing herself for something.

"Not dancing?" I asked, leaning against a post next to her, careful not to crowd her space.

She shook her head, eyes still on the fire. "I can't," she said softly, almost apologetically. "It's... too much."

"I get that," I replied, my voice low. "Everyone's so damn grateful, it's almost suffocating. A little too much 'thank you' for my taste."

She smiled, but it was brief—more like a reflex than genuine amusement. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, clearly uncomfortable.

"I don't know how to thank you," she said, her voice small now, as if she was still trying to process everything that had happened.

I took a breath, watching her for a moment. She was still hesitant, but there was something in her eyes, something that said she wasn't quite sure whether this was the right choice. But she had agreed earlier. This was her decision, even if she didn't fully understand the consequences of it yet.

I stepped a little closer, but not too close. "You already did. But as we discussed before. You know what's next."

Her eyes flickered to me, her expression unreadable for a long moment. There was a visible tension in the way her shoulders hunched, as if the weight of her decision had just hit her. She opened her mouth to speak, but seemed to reconsider.

Finally, she exhaled a shaky breath, barely audible. "I... I agreed. But it feels different now. You're a stranger."

I nodded, understanding that well enough. "Doesn't matter. We're both just looking for a little... release tonight. I'm not expecting anything more."

Her hesitation lingered, but after a few moments of quiet, she finally nodded, almost imperceptibly. The shift in her posture told me she was still unsure, but she had made up her mind.

"Come on then," she said, her voice quiet but firm, as she turned toward the small house at the edge of the village.

I followed without another word, the silence between us thick, but not uncomfortable. She was still a little reluctant, I could tell. But the decision had already been made, and now it was time to see it through.

The walk back to the chief's house was quiet. Too quiet. I could hear the distant hum of the village celebrating behind us, the clinking of mugs and the off-key singing of drunkards fading into the night. Ava led the way, her steps slow and hesitant, her head lowered like she was deep in thought.

The awkward silence hung between us like a heavy cloud. She hadn't said a word since we'd left the firelight, and it was starting to get to me.

"So," I said, breaking the silence, "do you always drag strangers back to your house, or am I just lucky?"

She flinched, glancing at me over her shoulder. "I... I don't usually do this," she mumbled, her voice barely audible. "I've never done this."

'Great. That makes two of us.'

"Don't worry," I said, forcing a grin. "First time for everything, right?"

She nodded but didn't respond. The silence came rushing back, suffocating and unbearable.

I racked my brain for something—anything—to talk about. I couldn't let this walk be nothing but awkward tension and the sound of our footsteps crunching on the dirt path.

"So... uh... what's it like living here?" I asked.

She glanced at me again, her expression still guarded. "It's quiet," she said softly. "We're far from the big towns, so we don't get many visitors. Most days, it's just farming, cooking, and taking care of the animals."

"Sounds... peaceful," I said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "You don't get bored?"

"Sometimes," she admitted, her tone a little lighter now. "But it's all I've ever known."

I nodded, feigning interest, while my mind scrambled for something more to say. I needed to steer this conversation away from anything that might give me away. The last thing I needed was her asking questions I couldn't answer.

"What about you?" she asked suddenly, her eyes darting up to meet mine.

'Shit.'

"Oh, you know," I said, waving a hand dismissively. "Traveling, fighting monsters, trying not to get killed. The usual."

Her lips twitched like she was trying not to smile. "Where are you from?"

'Double shit.'

"Far away," I said quickly. "You wouldn't know it."

She tilted her head, curious now. "What's it like there?"

I hesitated, my mind racing. I couldn't just say Earth, obviously. She'd think I was crazy—or worse, she'd start asking even more questions.

"It's, uh... it's nothing special," I said, pulling a random lie from the depths of my brain. "Lots of mountains. Hot. People aren't as friendly as they are here."

"That sounds... lonely," she said, her voice softening.

I shrugged, trying to look casual. "Eh, you get used to it."

She didn't press further, which was a relief. But I could tell she was still trying to figure me out, trying to make this less uncomfortable for both of us. She's just trying to get to know me. Probably thinks it'll make what comes next easier.

The thought made me smirk, but I kept it to myself.

By the time we reached the chief's house, the village was quiet. The building was a little bigger than the others, but not by much. It was simple, made of rough-hewn wood and stone, with a thatched roof that looked like it could use some repairs.

Ava hesitated at the door, her hand resting on the latch. She glanced back at me, her cheeks flushed, her eyes full of nervous energy.

"This is it," she said quietly.

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. "After you."

She opened the door, and we stepped inside. The interior was just as modest as the exterior. The main room was small, with a table and chairs pushed to one side and a fireplace crackling softly on the other.

"This way," Ava said, leading me down a short hallway to a small room at the back of the house.

Her room was simple—just a bed, a wooden chair, and a small chest in the corner. The walls were bare, the air faintly scented with herbs. It was... functional. Nothing fancy, but it suited her.

She stood by the bed, fidgeting with the hem of her dress, her eyes fixed on the floor. Her shyness was almost palpable now, and I could feel the weight of her nervousness pressing down on the room.

The door clicked shut behind us, and for a moment, the only sound was the faint crackle of the fire in the main room. I stepped closer to her, closing the distance between us in a few slow, deliberate steps.

She glanced up at me, her eyes wide, her breathing shallow. Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked like she was about to say something, but I didn't give her the chance.

I reached out, my hand brushing against her arm, and pulled her in.

Her breath hitched as I tilted her chin up, our faces inches apart. I could feel her trembling slightly, but she didn't pull away.

"Relax," I murmured, my voice low and steady.

And then I kissed her. Our lips touched but her mouth remained closed. As expected she was still hesitant, nervous.

I pulled away and looked into her eyes. The hesitation was still there although she looked more sure of herself. I leaned in once again, once again our lips met. This time I stuck out my tongue, forcing her mouth slightly open. Within that opening I pushed in deeper that she instinctively stuck out her own tongue into my mouth. Her mouth tasted of the meat and alcohol she had been eating and drinking, same as mine. The lingering after take made the saliva exchange feel extra tasty. Our breathing became erratic, hurried. Her technique to be honest was something. Not to say the best I've had but not necessarily bad either. Somehow she knew how to push out her tongue just enough and not over extend it. Maybe her shyness and nerves made it that she wasn't too bold with it.

After a few moments of the intense and sumptuous kiss we separated. A line of saliva joining our mouths. Looking into her eyes she looked back at me with a dazed look.

'Good, she is ready.'

That was the last straw for me.