Orchid Chapter 2 - Clifftop Petals
#2 of Orchid Volume 1
[Clifftop Prelude - Persuasion (2022)]
Orchid
Days passed. Then weeks. Back then, I did not see. But now I knew our love began in awkward conversation, growing day by day until I felt my heart race at the first sight of him. He must have felt it too, because every dawn's first light, he would go to the same place I called him to, again and again. He would visit me atop a cliff where he knew I would be, singing from my heart all the poems the birds had to offer. Every visit, he would bring me a flower. Half times from his aunt's garden when she allowed. Sometimes from a florist when their flowers were good. The rest were picked fresh from whatever the rainforest allowed. Yet in spite of it all, he could never match the flower attached to my head.
"If I could give you a flower like that," he said, "surely I'd win your heart?"
It was a strange question. A very strange question. Win my heart? A Civilized man like him wanted to love me? His question, yet ever so strange, I decided to entertain. His love amused me, very very much.
But I belonged to myself, to my mother, to the mountains. Not for my pride to be kept alone, but for the duty, the obligation of what was given to me. And so, I told him. I told him the price of my self, my mother, and my mountains.
I expected him to be disappointed, to leave the mountains and never come back. Yet he prevailed. From the first twilight until the sun's peak, he still always sat beside me, listening to my music as he begged for the secrets of the first price.
"Wait," I always replied, eyes never leaving the sights, "and you shall know."
"You torture me, play me. There's no answer, is there? You want to keep doing this to me for years to come 'til I die, and I'll weep in my grave because you never gave me a chance."
"Your distrust in me is founded by none." I smiled, tickling his chin with my forefinger. "As long as you wait, and as long as you love me, you will have your answer."
Whenever the sun began its descent, he always left, always promising that he would return as soon as dawn's first twilight. On most days, he was on time. On some days, he would either leave earlier or be a little bit late. But not once did he miss a day.
I once asked him why he always goes home whenever the sun peaks, and he replied, "My family needs me."
I knew him to be a dedicated man, and he loved his family too. I liked that about him.
A day came when he was not there on the cliffs to keep me company. Then another. Two became three, and three became seven.
I thought that he had lost all hope in us and that he had surrendered from all the waiting. I doubted myself. Was I too evil for a man who was too dedicated? Perhaps his love for me was merely for my looks and my voice, and that was the end of it.
I returned to my being alone once more. When Mother returned in the night, she noticed my sadness, inquired about the frown on my face, and I lied that I saw a beautiful butterfly devoured before my very eyes. She believed me, taught me about the transience of life, yet relieved me of our mastery over it. I nodded along, for I knew these lessons for as long as my own memories could take me.
Mother did not know about the city dragon. It was better that way.
When I came to accept my own loneliness once more, the strange dragon returned. Wounds and bruises covered him. I was frightened for his own life, yet he acted as if he too was immortal. He told me not to worry. He was, after all, recovering well. He added that he did not just come to greet me, either. He brought with him an orchid flower, akin to the one attached to my head, but it was not the same. The colors, its shape. But I knew he did his best to bring me one. When I asked him about his wounds, why he was gone for so long, he replied, "Just had a fight with one of my brothers. I argued with him because I kept going here. So I made a deal to do some work in the mornings instead. Sorry, my love."
"Is the problem now resolved?"
"Yeah, definitely."
He was strange, dedicated, maybe not very much a family man, but at least he is now a very brave man. I liked those about him.
I thought he was ready to hear the price of my heart.
"I want to know your name."
"Weird," he called me. "That's it?"
"I want to hear your laughter too."
"Anything more?"
"Nothing more."
"Every day, I worked to hear your secret. How can the price of your heart cost so little?"
"Everything I need and ask is given to me. The things that I cannot are little."
"Then I'll tell you my name, and let you listen to my laughter."
His name was Lazaro Domingo. I could not forget how the word moved my tongue, shaped my mouth and throat. It was special to me, and I knew from that moment on that I would remember it for my entire life. He also told me he did not know mine, and so I told him he could call me, "Orchid."
"Just as the flower on your head?"
"Yes."
"As for my laughter, I'll give it to you, but only if you tell me why."
And so I told him. Laughter was a lovely thing to hear to me. Occasionally, people would explore in the woods, and I would hear their voices. Out of all the noises they made, it was their laughter that piqued me the most. Some would have laughter as soft as their mouths could cover. Some would have laughter that would disturb the peace of the woods. It was one of the few things that I could never have, knowing laughter. I needed to have it, and I needed to have it from him.
And he obliged my wishes. He told me about tickling, how his older brothers would hold him in their grasps and touch him in intimate areas. He would laugh and squirm and beg them to cease.
Now I found myself curious. As curious as the times I dared myself to be bold and disobey Mother as I peeked at the strangers settling in the center of the forests. They would rest and chatter with their friends and strange gadgets, most of which escape my mind for its name.
I wanted to tickle him, hear the laughter of the man who desired me so much.
He took off his clothes, except for the ones that held the most intimate of his parts, leaving his chest bare.
He was as muscular as I imagined him to be. Massive biceps, plump chest, belly well with fat and muscle.
A new emotion arose in me, one I never knew existed. It kept me fixed on him, and it told me to touch him. Was it to tickle? I was not sure.
He raised his arms and put his hands behind him. Lazaro had thick hairs all over his body. He was hairier than most of the Civilized I had seen, but this was the first time I had seen a man with small tufts of hair on their armpits this close.
Sweat dripped all over his body as the sun beat down against us. When I walked over close to him, his scent became stronger. It reminded me of earth and fertile soil, and his sweat smelled so much like him. His sweat was difficult to compare, for it was unique to him and only him.
"Where should I touch you?" I asked.
"Anywhere you want, but you can glide your hands across my belly, my armpits, my sides."
I obeyed. When he giggled, he retracted his body and a smile spread across his face. "Keep going."
And I did. I scratched his armpits, and he let out a laugh. His hands left the back of his head, but he returned to them once more.
I found it odd. His own body wanted to defend itself when I touched him here and then there, but his mind wanted to keep himself still.
I buried my hand in his armpit once more, and he laughed louder than before. He cursed, he convulsed, tried to escape. But I was not satisfied quite yet. I wanted to tickle him more.
I scratched at his sides, ran my hand over his belly. I tickled him everywhere, and I enjoyed every part of it. I found myself smiling too when I found a new spot to tickle. His neck was an odd spot to find laughter, and so too was his ribs.
His legs soon failed him and we both fell down to the ground in his laughter.
When I stayed in one place too long, he guided me in new areas to tickle. I followed, and he would writhe against my fingers. His will, however, stayed strong and he allowed me to know him better.
Beneath his legs.
On his hand.
On his nipples.
His nipples were a special place. When my fingers picked over them, he let out a moan, one I did not expect. Our faces reddened. He covered his mouth and looked away from me.
"Feet," he said immediately. "Try my feet."
"All right." I held his legs in place with my arms. His shoes were off and I saw his feet, clean and calloused.
I tickled him with full force, no mercy. His laughter was close to screaming, I had to slow down. I paused for a while and looked at him, fearing that I might have disturbed the forests more than I already have, or worse, captured Mother's attention wherever she was.
Poor Lazaro was gasping for breath, sweating harder than before, and lying in the grass.
I tickled the arch of his feet, and the life of him was brought back once more. Tears streamed down his face. An odd thing to note.
We both forgot when the sun peaked at some point. I continued eliciting on him more laughter as I scratched his foot again and again. Plenty of times, he tugged against my arms but I resisted.
"Please, enough!" he finally said.
And I did. I released him and he stood up, putting his shirt on back once more, but it was already very damp with sweat. "Did I earn your heart now?"
"You did," said I, smiling. "That was amazing."
"I'm glad you liked it.." He held his crotch, perhaps the only spot I hadn't tickled, the scales on his face still flushed red.
"Did you hate it?"
"The what?"
"The tickling."
He flushed harder. "I like it when you touch me. If... If you excuse me," he bid me goodbye, and left on his own as I wondered to myself, if that was a yes.
When the night finally came and the moon was fully lit, Mother came to me once again and held my shoulder. "You seem gay. What happened?"
"Oh, Mother, not all things should be known."
I hoped the next time the sun would rise again that he would come once more.
And of course, at the first sign of dawn's twilight did he come to the cliffs again. "So, what about the price from your mother? And the forest?"
He was a determined man. A family man. A brave man. A strange man. A ticklish man. But now, also a lover.
I loved those about him.
In the times when he was no longer there to keep me company, and all of Mother's duties were finished, I would rest my head on the mountain trees and look upon cloudy caricatures, or stare at ants and their trails from the ground to the highest leaf.
This day was different. I did not stare at the ants. No longer, too, at the clouds. Instead, I thought of... Lazaro. No one and nothing else, but him. Strange emotions arose from my chest. Even stranger sensations even, as my fingers escaped my notice. But they all resonated in harmony, and pulsated in my head to a single thought: Him. That dragon. That damn dragon. In those short moments, I was greedy of him. Greedy, greedier, greediest.
Until I was no longer, and all that was left was the realization that...
I wanted him.
Ever since Lazaro won my heart, things changed between us. I brought him to places where no man either had not been before or for a very long time. Not far from here was a mansion built atop a mountain. I heard from Mother that the man who lived there died with no heir, family, or lover to inherit his richness. He rotted in that building with no one but his servants and himself. They all left him at his request, and he closed his eyes in eternal silence.
We walked past the wrought iron gates shaped to imitate the tulips and explored every nook and cranny of the mansion. When the sun peaked and I asked him if he should go home, he told me in a nonchalant voice, "There's no need to worry. I'll return to them by sundown."
"But what will you tell your family? Will your brothers tickle you as punishment?"
"I wish they merely tickled me," he replied. "But they have worse up their sleeves, along with my parents."
"Such as?"
"Mom and Dad will berate me, and my brothers will just give me more work for the missing time."
"Then you shall leave immediately. I cannot bear to see you work more than you already have."
"I've done much for you already. If I'm to pay more just to love you again, then I'll pay again until I am no more."
I blushed at his comment. He had such a way with words. Whenever he spoke, I felt my insides flutter, and heat rises to my face. Suddenly my words were gone as if he stole them away from me, and I would cover my face in shame for what he did to me.
When we explored the mansion further, we found a big and wide open room. Darkness forbade my eyes, but with open windows that all soon changed as bright golds and reds scattered all over. Intricate tapestries covered the walls, full of art that of which I cannot comprehend. Dust, dirt, and spiders crawled the corners and spoke so deeply of the decades the mansion was alone.
"May I dance with you?" he asked. He bowed his head and offered me his hand.
It was an odd sight. I had heard of dancing, but "I do not know how to dance," was only the right reply.
"I am no prince, nor am I a compelling dancer, but I can teach you." He held both my hands and moved them along with his as he went behind me. "One, two, three, and four," he counted.
I followed the rhythm of his body and the way he moved. I was an amateur. I stepped on his feet, tripped from nothing, and moved too early, or too late. But he was patient with me. He caught me every time I fell, told me the best way to do it, and loved me all along the way.
"If you do this well," he told me as he adjusted the position of my arms, "I'll let you touch and tickle me the next time we meet."
I laughed at that promise of reward. "You realize I have no need to tickle you anymore?"
"But it's something you want, isn't it?"
He was right. I longed to touch him, to feel his body all over with my paws. If I were to deny him that, would I be denying myself the greatest pleasure too?
And so we danced in the seemingly endless ebb and flow of our limbs together. Time ceased to exist. There was only me, Orchid, and Lazaro the dragon, dancing in a world where there was only us.
When the sun touched the mountains on the horizon, we did not notice. When the skies welcomed the night in a blend of colors, we did not notice. When the stars were beginning to be visible in the sky, that too we did not notice.
I loved him with all my heart, and he even more. I wanted him to hold me in his arms like this, comfort me that he was never going to disappear into the night. I was greedy for him, and in those times, I forgot what it was like to think of anything but.
When I memorized all the steps, every sway of the arm, and every turn of the body, he held my lower back, and I his shoulder as if I was about to fall.
Our eyes met. Beyond the window were only the last few hints of twilight. I loved how it dyed his green scales a little more orange, and his horns a little more red.
"I love you," he said.
I was speechless. A look of panic spread across his face for a mere second, and he changed the topic.
"You did wonderfully. Will you tickle me the next day then, Orchid?" He said my name as if he held the flower itself, afraid that he would crush it in his grasp. Yet, the rest of his words carried a silly tone.
"I suppose so." I smiled. The sun was finally gone, and the moon was left to dominate the light.
He was supposed to go home, and I was meant to see Mother tonight.
No other goodbye in my life felt as painful as the one I felt when he disappeared into the woods. I wished so much I could join him in his life in the cities, but Mother forbade me to, and the people there frightened me plenty. Lazaro was the first and only person to enter my heart like that, and I wished that he was also the last.