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Azof and the Farmer's Wife	By : kspence Category: Lord of the Rings Movies > AU - Alternate Universe Views: 9835 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Disclaimer: I do not own the Lord of the Rings book series and movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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8. Enchanted April

As time went on Azof seemed to grow increasingly reluctant to set off on his escapades into the great – wherever, much preferring to stay, assisting Julienne with her day-to-day tasks. Of course with him lending a hand the work would be completed sooner, allowing the two of them additional time for engaging in more – recreational – pursuits, but that wasn’t all there was behind it. It seemed incredible to Julienne, whose husband had been something of a past master at devising excuses that would take him away from the home, but at last she began to wonder whether the Orc might simply want to spend time with her, and if that meant working alongside of her, he was prepared to use whatever excuse he could.
The physical side of their relationship brought her a great deal of pleasure, certainly, but equal to or perhaps even beginning to surpass that was the importance of their growing friendship. After the unspoken resentments and endless tensions that had run as undercurrents throughout her marriage (a partnership that, looking back on it, that hadn’t been so much a domestic arrangement as a war of attrition) Julienne found the plain-speaking Orc refreshingly straightforward to be with. Between them was gradually developing an uncomplicated companionship and an easy, comfortable closeness of a type that the farmer’s wife hadn’t experienced since her children were small.
Not that Azof was ever likely to be anyone’s idea of a perfect mate. His looks were against him from the start: he wasn’t slim, or young, or beautiful – the physical qualities he did possess being the opposites to each of those three. And he had some truly dreadful habits: but Julienne was finding, the more time she spent with him, that her ideas of male attractiveness were undergoing a radical change. And, whatever her ideal man might have been like before, it was now an image that the Orc was coming more and more as the days passed to – fit.
They’d spent the day digging over Julienne’s vegetable plot.   Now, in the evening Azof was sitting on the edge of the bed, painstakingly re-stitching a seam that had come loose between two of the leather panels at the back of his jerkin. Julienne had been astonished to find that that the Orc had – not an interest in needlework, exactly (for the stitches he sewed were rough and ungainly) so much as the willingness to undertake a task that was universally considered, by all of her previous circle of acquaintance, to be women’s work. She’d offered to help with his sewing, but the Orc, with an odd, lopsided smile had said -
“No need. I already know how.”
So they were sitting together quite quietly, in front of the little fire that was crackling in the bedroom grate. It was late in the season, admittedly, for a second fire indoors, but one of the tasks Azof had taken upon himself was the maintenance of the cottage log-pile, and through his efforts the farmer’s wife now had more firewood than she knew what to do with.
Julienne wanted him and yet she was nervous. It seemed too audacious to think of making the first move; her husband would’ve – in the very early days often had – rebuffed her when she tried to reach for him, claiming that that was a man’s business and something no decent woman, mindful of her place, should even want to think about.  Azof, however, wasn’t a man, and he wasn’t like that. Trying to bear this firmly in mind, Julienne stretched out her hand, tentatively, and ran it down from his brow, round the side of his face.
Azof set his mending aside. “You wanna put your ‘ands on me?” he sounded pleased, and very surprised. “It don’t bovver you?”
“You like putting your hands on me, don’t you?” Julienne replied. “I feel just the same.”
“Well, yeah! But I’m –“ the Orc broke off, blinking at her in confusion, “I ain’t – nice-looking, like you.   Wish I was, but I’m not.”
“You’re lovely to me, Azof,” Julienne told him, which earned her only another narrow, uncertain look. But they lay down together under the covers, and he allowed her to stroke her hands over him, curiously exploring his great, stooped shoulders, his flanks and back. What she found there however, made her pause.   From time to time he’d been without his shirt, so she knew there was little enough to see against the dull black of his skin, but under her fingers there was no disguise for the many tight, wickedly ridged scars that striped the skin over his buttocks and lower back.
Azof drew back immediately. “I’ve maybe let meself go, a bit,” he said, and his tone was definitely defensive, “but I ain’t in all that bad shape, am I?”
“It’s not that, Azof. But what’s happened to you here? It’s all over your back.”
“Eh? Oh, that’s nuffink,” the Orc said, dismissively. “Basic training, that’s all. Them lads never messed about. If someone’s ‘olding a whip to you, you’ll learn pretty quick to jump whenever they say. Motivates you something wonderful. Mine ain’t even that bad, not compared wiv’ some.”
It seemed rough, brutal sort of life to Julienne, and she said so.
“Yeah. I s’spose,” Azof shrugged. “But it weren’t all bad. Sometimes, we –“ but then he caught himself on the brink of what he’d been about to say, and with a sickly grin told her: “Don’t think you really wanna know about what we done for fun.”
“Did you have – girlfriends?”
Azof stared at the ceiling. “Sometimes. Not often. After some of what I – seen, early on, I decided I liked it better taking care of – that stuff – on me own.” He propped himself up on one elbow and squinted down at Julienne with a crooked grin and a familiar, lecherous look in his eye. “Wouldn’t mind telling you some more ‘bout that, now, if you like.”
Julienne nodded her head and bit her lips.
“Yeah? Come ‘bit closer, then.”
“I’d wet me hand. Maybe use a bit of grease if I ‘ad some.” Azof sucked his index and middle fingers into his mouth and drew them out slick with spittle. Tucking his hand under the bed-covers, he slipped it between Julienne’s legs and began rubbing, delicately. For a moment he watched her reaction, very intently. “Feels different when you get it wet, dunnit?”
Holding her gaze all the while, the Orc withdrew his fingers and taking his time - working very thoroughly - licked them clean. Julienne supposed she ought feel scandalized, but in the wake of the intimacies they’d so often shared, actually experienced only a sharp, sweet, pang of desire mixed with a tinge of pity for him. Touching, watching - even tasting; these were pleasures Azof could still partake in, yet all seemed terribly meagre substitutes, at least when compared to the bliss of sheer physical release that was beyond him. Speaking aloud – well. At least he seemed to glean a little something for himself from that.
“Tell me what you did next, Azof,” she said in a low voice, encouraging him.
“You want me to go on? Do you?”
“I like to hear you talking about it.”
“Oh!” The Orc paused for a moment. “Then I’d stroke it. Get me ‘and round and hold ‘im just right - not too tight. If I could get a minute to meself I liked to ‘ave a play with my balls an’ me tits when I was doing it. Try an’ spin things out.” The Orc sighed, regretfully. “But I almost never did get a minute. There’d always be some – other wanker, creeping round, spyin’ an’ prying. So I didn’t ‘ang about. You ‘ad to learn yourself to come, double-quick. ” He gave a rueful snort. “Sometimes I’d bring myself off so fast, I ‘ardly even felt it, at the finish.”
“I wish I could do it with you properly, Jules,” Azof said, wistfully. “We wouldn’t ‘ave to rush like that now, eh? If we wanted, you and me could go at it all night, together. Be - nice, wouldn’t it?”
“It would be,” the farmer’s wife agreed. Mindful of misunderstandings, she thought carefully about what she wanted to say to him next. “Azof,” she began, “it’s not that I don’t like being – here, with you –“
“In bed,” Azof grinned.
“That, too. But I can’t help thinking how – frustrating this must be for you –“
The Orc shook his head emphatically. “I’ve told you, it ain’t like that. Not a’tall. ‘Cos I’m always thinking about you, Jules. Can’t seem to get enough of you, an’ that ain’t even what I’m like. Never used to give a toss about the other person - if there was one. Quick in an’ out - only bothered serving myself an’ that’d be it. Now all I want to do is think about you, and me bringing you off and what ways I can do it. No, it ain’t frustrating, Jules. Being here with you’s the only thing I got going for me - what I care about, or want to do.”
He gazed into her eyes, earnestly.   “You don’t want me to stop, do you, Jules? You want me to carry on, don’t you?”
“Yes!”
“Well I do, too! I’ve come about an ‘undred times in me ‘ead, already, just from being ‘ere, an’ looking, an’...an’” he broke off with a great, groaning sigh. “That’s not even what it’s all about, not really. I just - like it. Being ‘ere. Being close wiv’ you.”
“Look,” he said after a moment, “if you want, I’ll get ‘im out for a minute.” Rolling his eyes exaggeratedly, the Orc gave Julienne an arch sort of look. “I mean, if it’s gonna make you feel better, an’ everythink -“
Until this point and by tacit agreement between them, Azof’s lower body had always been off-limits. Propped up on his elbows, he unfastened his breeches, pulled them down a little way, and, with a pained expression reached in, took himself in hand and rearranged the position of – the inside contents, slightly. Then he lay back, putting his hands down flat by his sides.
Julienne looked him over, curiously. There seemed to be more than enough of him, judging by the length of his male member, which was resting, limp and docile, down the inside of his leg.
“You can ‘old onto ‘im, if you like,” the Orc said, encouragingly.
Azof’s cock had a pleasant, warm weight to it, and he caught his breath as the farmer’s wife lifted it, gently hefting and stroking the sizeable pair of balls behind. His skin there was much softer than the leather-like hide that covered the rest of him, and was differently-textured, with a subtle, almost velvet-seeming nap.
“I’m fine,” he said, replying to her unspoken question and he closed his eyes, letting out his breath in a slow, careful exhale. “It’s just it’s been a while - an’ your ‘ands is cold! But - you’re all right to carry on. If you want.”
At first Julienne was awkward, as she had not much by way of frame of reference to tell her what she should do, but her confidence increased the longer she handled him. Azof, however, was soft and he stayed soft throughout, though seemingly not especially disinclined for her to continue.
His eyes were still shut and there was a trace of little frown-line between. “Go on,” he muttered faintly, “Knock yourself out.”
And the farmer’s wife did, for a while, but - they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere.
“Is this all right?” she said, suddenly self-conscious, for Azof was propped up on his elbows again, and now he was watching her ministrations through narrowed eyes; watching her very, very intently.
The Orc’s voice caught in his throat. “Oh yeah. It’s good to see you playing with ‘im, all right. An’ it feels -”
“What?”
“Well, it feels – I dunno.”
“Don’t the two of you want to say ‘’ello’?” Azof asked suddenly, still watching her slyly. “My bits an’ your bits. We should introduce ‘em. What d’you think?”
Julienne swallowed. “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” Azof whispered, right into her ear, “why you don’t you take ‘im in your ‘and an’ see if you can use him to bring yourself off. ‘Cause it’s got you going, hasn’t it? Doing what you done to me. I know it has. I can tell.”
This didn’t count as much of a great revelation since the Orc had already had quite a bit of practice in this particular area of observation - but he was right. Touching him so intimately – to her surprise, Julienne had taken pleasure from it, felt a pleasant warmth towards him and was also now more than a little aroused, herself. What he’d said made still her shake her head, embarrassed.
Azof’s eyes were bright as he shuffled away from her till he was propped against the head-board of the bed. “Come ‘ere and ‘old ‘im again, eh?”
Julienne followed after, threw one leg across him and, fitting their bodies together, did as he’d suggested. He groaned as she began moving on top of him and after a moment reached for her, hands fumbling and uncharacteristically clumsy as he pressed them to her hidden, private places. His hand provided an added degree of purchase, at first on the outside, which helped. Then he pushed his fingers into her, twisting and pressing eagerly.
Julienne gasped and sat up, abruptly straddling the Orc’s lap. The shift of her weight and unexpected change in pressure had caused a sharp rush of sensation that was absolutely – certainly and absolutely something she didn’t wish to cease -
Azof however, was looking flustered. Raising himself up on one elbow, he was demanding -
“What is it? What?”
When without a word, the farmer’s wife pushed him flat onto the bed - and as he made to sit up again, shoved him onto his back. Putting her weight in her arms she pushed down on his shoulders to hold him in the position - just exactly - where she thought he ought to be. Beyond thought, care, or consideration she ground herself onto him, onto the place where their hands and their bodies met. Closing her eyes she moaned and shivered through the throes of a brief, intense climax.
After a moment Julienne made an effort to collect herself. Beneath her Azof wasn’t moving. He was having to put quite an effort into staying still, seemingly, for his body was quivering all over – trembling, visibly, with tension.
“Oh. Oooh.” Wide-eyed, the Orc had an expression of surprise and consternation on his face. Actually, he didn’t look far from being utterly horrified; managed only to croak out a desperate -
“Jules! Please, Jules –“
And then he was biting back a short, anguished yelp, hands clutching themselves into fists as he jammed his hips upwards against her. Making a strangled noise in his throat he repeated the movement, back and shoulders rising up off the mattress as his arms went round to clasp hold of her tightly.  Azof caught and held her for a long moment, his face pressed close against her chest, gasping in and out with each breath, his whole body still quivering and heaving.
As Julienne became aware of a spreading feeling of warmth and wetness between them, slick and slippery between her thighs, the Orc subsided back against the pillows breathlessly. He didn’t, for the time being, seem quite able to speak.
Acutely aware that he was watching her every movement, the farmer’s wife reached for a soft cloth from the bedroom shelf, which she used first to lightly blot the moisture from her body, and then from Azof’s.   After that she bent down and kissed him fondly there, making the Orc’s cock jump slightly, in place.
Azof was staring at her incredulously.   “You ‘eld me down an’ – an’ used me! You bloody did!”
It seemed awfully unsportsmanlike of him bring that up at this point. Julienne raised her eyebrows at him. “Seemed to get you going, didn’t it?”
“Well?” The Orc’s tone was a unique mixture of sheepishness and suavity. “Couldn’t ‘elp meself, could I, after you done that.”   He had taken hold of his member and was examining himself gingerly, intrigued. “It still never – you know, got ‘ard. But you know how I said for blokes it’s all or nuffink? Well, that was a bit of somethink. It ain’t never done that before. An’ it felt – nice.”
“Nice?”
“I reckon I must’ve – well, I know I definitely did come,” Azof explained, his tone distracted. “I thought I couldn’t do that no more! So I ain’t thinking so much ‘bout what to call it, Jules, ‘cos it’s been a lot to take in. But -” he broke off, gazing at her expressively, “it was you made me do that, Julienne. I’ve tried – I have, loads of times.   Gave it up as a dead loss cos’ it started to ‘urt an’ I still never – you know, never. You’re amazing, you are Jules –“
Given that what happened had been brought about by what had been a selfish impulse, primarily, this was too-high praise indeed.   “I’m happy for you Azof!” Julienne interrupted guiltily, “I am! But please, stop! ‘Cause if I’m being honest?   Just now I was mainly thinking about myself.”
“I know you was,” the Orc replied. “An’ liked it! But I weren’t talking just about that. It’s you, how you let me come ‘ere an’ be wiv’ you, an’ you ain’t even bovvered that I’m – “ he paused, helplessly - “how I’m not a proper man. You just take me how I am. That’s – lovely, amazing, an’ I dunno the way to say it right, either, but you are.”
In spite of the deep-rooted scepticism, on the subject of men as well as man-like creatures, and the things they might or might not say, that over the years had established itself as part of her nature, Julienne couldn’t help but be a little – touched, by what he’d said. She settled herself next to Azof and when he put his head on her shoulder, drew him to her breast, holding him close. They stayed like that, lying together, while the last of the day’s light faded outside the window, until the little fire in the grate had burned down to a bed of redly glowing coals.
Out the darkness next to her the Orc said -
“Here, Jules. Fancy usin’ an’ abusin’ me about me manly parts again?”
As he waited for an answer, all the while Julienne could feel, if not see that he was grinning broadly at her. “Yeah? Well then, climb up here a minute, eh?”
What an offer! But after a moment Julienne, smiling to herself in the darkness, did exactly as he had bid.

TBC

A/N.
(1) Thanks very much for the comments, Anon! Not sure how much more of Azof's past we'll get to hear about (he had a very mundane time of it in Mordor for the most part, considering that he's an Orc) but there's a chapter or two more mostly comprised of bedroom scenes to come and then maybe a smidgen of ill-advised plot.
(2) Say what you like about the internet, but for some reason – she says, without a hint of irony - there seems to be no end to the amount of sex-related material available on it. The subject probably doesn’t warrant its own reference-list at this point, suffice to say that according to a number of different sources I consulted ‘in the interests of science’ (delete-browsing-history, delete-history-item-‘today’) apparently this sort of thing* can and does (sometimes) happen. Well, well.
*the ‘happy surprises during the course of erectile dysfunction’ thing. Not, for obvious reasons, the 'women having (a form of) sex with Orcs' thing.
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Azof and the Farmer's Wife