The Bardbarian Couple (Patreon)

This is one of those high-voted stories from the polls where I take all month to do it. The story came with this mental image of just a genuinely romantic and affectionate couple of a goblin bard and an orc barbarian who are just smitten with each other. Making that grow over time, tying in some very light adventuring, and then tender horny sex while emphasizing size and personality difference took time, and the story ended up a lot bigger than I’d planned. I ended up pretty happy with how their whole relationship worked out, though my fondness for side characters had me appreciating the ill-defined monk and wizard’s commentary throughout.

“Almost at the swamp,” Sorin reminded the party. The dwarven wizard stuck his staff into the ground and dusted his hands off on his thick robes. “Best to camp here and rest up for the night before we’re in the thick of things during the middle of the night.”

“Right. You magic types need your sleep, don’t you?” Laz stretched out as the group came to a halt. The bald, lean and limber body of the short female human monk really knew how to make a stretch last.

“I’ll go get dinner ready,” Ruhk decided gruffy.

The group looked over to the barbarically-dressed she-orc as she shrugged off her pack. A spiraling pattern of thick, red and black hair was tied behind her in a loose ponytail. Her body in motion was a series of rolling spheres of muscle beneath her thick, dark green skin, largely exposed by a few black-dyed furs and animal skins acting as a loincloth and bound around her breast. Even her nails were painted black to encourage her natural camouflage, leaving only the sharp, narrow tusks growing from her squared jaw and stern features.

“Right. And when you say that…” Sorin asked, leaving the unspoken question hanging in the air.

Ruhk went back to her bag and fished out a bundle of throwing axes to go with the hefty war hammer on her back.

“Ah! Okay. That kind.”

“I’ll chop it up so you can get right to cooking,” the broad green amazon instructed before starting to tromp off.

“I could come with you!” Mendle offered.

The short bard hurried after Ruhk, his colorfully decorated cap bouncing atop his goblin head. Fine but tight-fitting clothing made him look the opposite of Ruhk, even his skin a pale lime green to her dark swampy color. Broad ears and some short, pink hair poked out from under his cap while his straight, pointed nose stuck out like a short beak above his fanged smile.

“Another set of eyes never hurt, eh?”

“You stay,” Ruhk corrected bluntly. She glared down at the thigh-high nomad. “Practice your little noisemaker back where the hogs won’t hear it.”

Mendle took a moment to stare at her and then back at his banjo when he realized what she meant.

“Oh! Oh I wouldn’t be playing while we hunt! I’d just be-”

Ruhk picked Mendle up by the back of his shirt collar, lifting him like a crane machine before flinging him carelessly back towards the camp. He flew an easy ten feet before turning it into a small flip and landing back on his boots. The orcess rolled her eyes and went back on her march.

“Maybe you and I should take the first watch,” Laz quietly offered to Sorin.

“And leave those two stuck together? Why?” the dwarf muttered back. Laz shrugged.

“Just because I think it’d be funny.”

---

Late in the night, the orc and goblin took over their shifts around the campfire. Ruhk left her heavy hammer resting on its head, the handle sticking straight up like she could need it at a moment’s notice. She had a whetstone in hand as she scraped it over the large tusk she’d taken off her kill. Across from the flames, Mendle idly plucked on his banjo.

“Whatcha makin’ there?” Mendle asked conversationally.

“More axes,” the orc answered gruffly. “Not much good hunting if I can’t replace what I spent doing it.”

“Oh of course! Renewable resources and all. I know my folks back home had a garden they would-”

Ruhk lifted and slammed the new axe head into the hunk of log she’d been sitting on. Mendle jumped in surprise, sharply enough to stop picking at his instrument.

“Tell me something, little man. Why did they bring you?” Ruhk demanded impatiently.

Mendle blinked back at her, briefly shocked before he gestured at himself.

“If you mean the adventure, it’s because I’m a bard.”

“And what exactly do you do, hm? Are you going to do a little dance when we get to the hydra? Sing it a song and hope its extra ears hurt?”

The barbarian sneered in disgust at the little minstrel. Mendle stared blankly some more, awkwardly plucking another off note.

“I won’t mind splitting the gold three ways when you trip on a twig and snap your tiny neck before we even get to the fight. But at least be quiet about it so you’re not a distraction.”

Ruhk ripped the bone ax back out of the log. She was about to start sharpening again, but Mendle chuckled lightly.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’ve never traveled with a bard, eh?” Mendle offered with a smile. He unslung his banjo and stood up on the stone where he’d been sitting. Ruhk was surprised to see him hiding a short short behind the instrument, similarly strapped to his chest inside his vest, but she didn’t show it.

“I haven’t wasted my time with one before. No.”

“Well as much as people like some music on a journey, I’d agree that your average minstrel wouldn’t be much use in the heat of things.”

Mendle paused to muse a few words under his breath and started plucking at his banjo. Rather than the idling and tuning he’d been doing on the whole trip, this was a proper song. He didn’t sing along, but it also felt like he didn’t have to. Ruhk was surprised at the speed and skill of his strumming fingers, especially as ripples of light like tiny sound bubbles popped out from the strings.

“Bards are just another kind of wizard, just in a more practical way. We don’t do the wands and fireballs kind of stuff, but with the right tool we can do whatever little things you need. Healing, mesmerizing, illusions, buffing…”

Mendle’s fingers twisted into a rapid addition to his tune. The quick string of notes summoned a blurred but angel-looking figure, its soft voice singing out on the wind as it writhed in an almost gelatinous state. The voice mingled with the goblin’s simple banjo, a harp and series of soft flutes joining in with it as Ruhk stared at the complex conjuration.

The orc shook her head as she focused back on the goblin himself. He went on happily plucking out his tune in time with the newly summoned orchestra (or technically the other way around).

“I’ve worked with wizards,” Ruhk grumbled, squaring her shoulders as she clearly tried to reclaim some of her earlier edge.

“Great at a distance but as soon as things get close I need to come to their rescue.”

“Well the sword ain’t just for show,” Mendle admitted. “Clearly not doin’ the kind of damage you’ve got going on, all big and beautiful like that.”

“Big and what?” Ruhk asked quizzically.

“But I like to keep my work subtle. More fun that way and ticks off less people.”

“You think a light show and a one-man band is subtle?” Ruhk scoffed.

Mendle shrugged and reached behind his seat. He grunted as he picked up the unfinished throwing axe Ruhk had been working on. Her eyes went wide in surprise.

“Guess you’re right. Anywho, here’s your thing back.”

He tossed it most of the way across the camp with a labored grunt, causing his music and his drifting illusion to cut off. He wasn’t strong, but he was clearly fast. Or at least knew when to pick his moment. Ruhk picked her newest weapon back up and started to mindlessly fiddle with it.

“Did you really say beautiful before?” she asked warily.

“I call ‘em like I see ‘em,” Mendle answered with a tip of his hat. “Pretty as a tune. I was the runt of my litter so I don’t bother lookin’ at a lady unless she looks like she can throw me.”

Ruhk snorted a crude laugh and broke into a tusked smile.

“Hey, you got any favorites?” Mendle asked, raising his banjo a little in offering.

“Favorite what?”

“Songs. I play a mean cover of Oats and Beans.”

“I don’t know what that is,” the orc said plainly. She’s grown up in The Badlands where the idea of civilization had given up and backed off a long time ago.

“Well you got a favorite type? Bluegrass?”

“Grass is green,” Ruhk correctly with her same lost expression.

“Country?”

“Which country?”

“Rock and roll?”

“I know what those words are.”

Mendle drummed his fingers on the wood of his banjo. “Do you know what a song is?”

“There were war songs,” Ruhk replied, furrowing her brow as she recalled an old memory.

“When the soldiers trained maneuvers together. It kept the rhythm of their swings. They didn’t really have names or words.”

Mendle thought for a moment, then started to rhythmically flick his thumb against the body of his instrument. It left a low, clicking beat, steady enough that Ruhk found her foot swaying lightly in time. Mendle started to pluck a subtler tune and sang in a low but energetic voice.

“March, all ye boys, towards the great Black Spire.

March til ye leave it all blood an’ fire

March on the dark lord’s throne of liars

An’ then we’ll march back home.”

He glanced up quickly as he hit a few notes between his verses. Ruhk was staring and smiling as she twirled her axe around in her lap. She absentmindedly took out her whetstone and started sharpening her new weapon along to the beat of the song.

Their shift seemed to fly by while staying packed full of activity. Ruhk was eager to learn about Mendle’s music as he played her samples of whatever he could. She had a lot of questions about the words and he knew plenty about where the songs came from. You had to know where a song of revolution would connect with the crowd and where the quiet homey ones felt better. Apart from his magic, the main thing the goblin had that Ruhk did not was experience traveling.

The clinking of glass came from Mendle’s nearby hourglass. The bead he’d left on either end of it caught in the middle as the sand was transferred to its other side.

“Well where’s that time go? Better wake them up if we’re gonna get any shuteye tonight,” Mendle commented.

“Do you actually call it shuteye?” Ruhk asked with another growing grin.

“We used it a bunch back in the swamps. Anything wrong with that?”

“No,” Ruhk summed up as she took the tip of her ponytail in between her fingers, lightly twisting at the red and black strands.

“It’s just cute.”

Mendle smiled back at her as he hopped off his seat.

“Thanks for sayin’. Have a good night.”

“Yea. You too, little man.”

Ruhk nearly jumped as Mendle stood outside of Sorin’s tent and struck a loud and severely off key.

“Rise and shine! It’s a lovely moon out tonight!”

The dwarf groaned and crawled out of his tent as Ruhk just grabbed and shook the top of Laz’s. The monk slid out and waved assuringly at the barbarian as she rubbed sleep from her eyes.

“Alright. We’re up,” the human yawned. She looked from Mendle to Ruhk, scanning for any stab wounds or bruises they may have exchanged. She pursed her lips and went to her post without another word as the orc slipped inside their tent.

“Did you see that?” Laz asked as Sorin took his seat.

“See what?”

“Was Ruhk actually smiling at something?”

The dwarven mage looked between the two tents and shook his head.

“From the barbarian? Can’t be good news for Mendle, then.”

---

In the morning, the pair were in surprisingly good spirits. Ruhk volunteered to fix breakfast and the others quietly noted how she served Mendle first. Mostly to see if it was poisoned, but he ate it quite happily. The goblin was quick to warm up with a song as they packed up, and the pinker party members spotted Ruhk’s ponytail bobbing to the tune.

“Think he’s brainwashed her?” Sorin muttered.

“If he did, I’m not gonna say anything about it,” Laz shrugged as she tossed on her backpack.

They ventured into the hydra’s swamp, striking down a few mud golems and will-o-wisps that ambushed them along the way. The wisps left a few mild burns on Ruhk’s thick hide, but it was a minor price for finishing off her enemies quickly.

Mendle still stepped in beside her and patted her on the thigh just below her loincloth. Ruhk blushed a wave of dark red across her dark green cheeks.

“Little somethin’ for your troubles,” the bard said with a wink.

Ruhk didn’t have the time to ask him what he meant before a soothing sense of comfort washed over her skin. She’d been healed by magic enough times to recognize it and glanced at her arms to see most of the burns were completely mended.

“Thanks,” she replied simply.

“Any time. You go ahead and get as wild as you want, cuz I got your back.”

“Mhm!” she answered, quickly turning to avoid his eyes.

When they reached the hydra’s cave, it was an explosion of action. The large snake lunged at them, biting in all directions. Ruhk tore its head off right away with her war hammer, but the other four were still plenty pissed off. The party pelted it with weapons, spells and fists until they were starting to wear it down. Ruhk barely fended off one of the hydra’s striking heads as it pinned her against a wall, just for another to come lunging at her while her hands were busy.

Its fangs seemed set to take off her head when a thunderous boom drew its attention. All heads (both the hydra’s and the party’s) turned towards the mouth of the cave where the chaotic crashing noises of every instrument Mendle could think of came and a madly colorful cloud of illusion came pouring out of him. The hydra hissed and lashed out with its many heads in his direction.

“Alright! Doin’ this the old fashioned way!” Mendle blurted hastily.

He kept the frantically strumming tune going with one hand while the other pulled his short sword from behind the banjo. He jabbed the snake between the eyes, barely piercing its scale as it bucked its head. He let out a startled yelp as he clung to the sword, lifted clean off the ground rather than risk falling into its jaws.

Fortunately, a roaring Ruhk’s hammer came smashing into the hydra’s spine just below its central neck. It hissed and crumbled to the cave floor where Laz delivered a few hasty blows to the back of its head to finish the job.

“Got it?” Sorin asked as Laz waded out of the mess of flesh and snake guts.

She nodded to him and the wizard started conducting his spells to gather the dead monster into his pouch of holding. Mendle planted a boot on one of the snake’s heads and tried to uproot his sword, but it had stuck deeper into its bone and muscle than he’d expected.

The goblin yelped as Ruhk took him by the collar. With one hard pull, she lifted him and the sword from the hydra’s head and had him dangling in her fist.

“Sorry about that,” he laughed. “I’m starting to think you were right! A one-man band’s just sort of a distraction.”

“Well a distraction was just what I needed. Nice work out there, Mendy.”

The orc lifted him higher and firmly kissed him on the mouth. The goblin’s eyes went wide before he started to lean into the kiss. Mendle leaned his hands on her broad shoulders as his lips were dwarfed and practically swallowed up by Ruhk’s.

She finally parted them with a soft, wet smacking sound as she set him back down. Mendle cleared his throat and adjusted his collar slightly.

“I was thinking,” Laz proposed as she shuffled closer to Sorin.

“Maybe we should take first watch tonight.”

“Why’s that?” the dwarf asked.

“Get it out of their system so we’re not trying to sleep through whatever noises they end up making,” the monk summed up.

“Ah. Maybe you’re right…”

---

With their quarry stowed away, the party was largely glad to leave the swamp. Mendle and Ruhk didn’t seem to mind much, between the green amazon easily wading through the mud while Mendle hopped skillfully between the raised roots. He played a perky little tune that kept getting Ruhk to smile despite the fatigue of battle that his healing spells couldn’t quite fix.

They reached the last spot they’d camped out at and set things up once again. The orc and goblin sat noticeably close to each other, with Mendle flashing Ruhk occasional winks or glances over dinner. She would snicker or elbow him back while stealing glances of her own in his direction. It was painfully obvious that showing her knew what he was doing in a fight had sealed the deal in her attraction to the short charmer.

Laz and Sorin were happy to let them turn in early. Ruhk and Mendle entered the same tent together, where Mendle’s small stature didn’t make things particularly cramped. Regardless of the space afforded to them, the she-orc quickly shifted closer. Her brawny and faintly sweat-smelling figure was firm and warm to the touch in a way that made Mendle take a deep and relaxing sigh.

“You really are a lot for something so small,” she chuckled as she wrapped her powerful arms around the bard. He chuckled as he leaned into her brawny physique.

“Well I’m not the only one here with more than just a pretty face goin’ for me,” Mendle mused.

He ran his delicate hands over the orc’s abs before running down to her thighs. Ruhk shivered and sighed softly from just above his head. One broad hand nearly covered his back as she ran her short, thick nails along the fabric of his shirt, clearly struggling with some urges.

“Hey, Ruhk?” Mendle offered.

He perked his head up, just to bump it against the bottom of her hanging breasts. He adjusted its position to rest his chin on her cleavage, feeling as content as a cat in a sunbeam.

“Yea?” she muttered back.

Mendle slipped out of her grip just enough to reach out and flick a chord on his banjo. It resonated with a low and unnatural thrumming sound, like a stone just dense enough to drop into a lake without making a splash. There was an intangible sensation in the air as Ruhk looked around.

“What was that?”

“Just a little Silence spell. Nobody’ll hear us outside the tent.”

He smiled warmly up at her as he snuggled in as close as her big and muscular chest would allow.

“And you know I’m sturdier than I look. So it’s just like I said: go ahead and get as wild as you want.”

A brief flash of excitement cross Ruhk’s face before it turned in a genuine smile. She seized Mendle around the waist and lifted him up to her eye level, locking into a deep kiss with the man half her size.

Mendle gave a short squeak of surprise before he leaned in and reciprocated. Ruhk opened her mouth enough for him to slide his tongue in without seeming like she was going to swallow him. They moaned together as they tasted each other’s lips and tongues, cupping each other’s faces before letting their hands roam further down the other’s body.

Ruhk’s strong and calloused hands stroked all over the goblin’s body, not having as much ground to cover as he did. She clutched him closer to her as her hand went aggressively for his crotch, rubbing through his pants and quickly firing him up. Mendle was nowhere near as hung as she’d expect from an orc, but she wasn’t imagining too much in terms of size going into this.

Mendle’s smaller hands made up for it in skill as he slid under her furs and saw to her breasts. He had to put some real effort into lifting them, cradling the huge green orbs in his palms as his fingers danced around her nipples. He felt her nostrils huff deep and needy breaths when he played them just the right amount of teasing and actual pressure. He let a hand wander along one of her brawny arms, tracing the curves of her forearm and bicep alongside his feeling and stripping of her tits.

Their makeout session heated up as Ruhk leaned into him, pinning the smaller man to the ground. Mendle caught his breath and stared up at her admiringly as she made quick work of his clothes, pulling them off in a few hasty swipes. Mendle once again had to put in a bit more effort to lift and remove her thick furs, but the simplicity of the garments at least made them easy to figure out.

Once undressed, Ruhk could see that Mendle was in better shape than he ought to as a traveling minstrel. The orc, of course, was a massive slab of curves and muscle looming over the smaller man. The admiring gaze and caresses that he cast across her scarred body quickly chased away the worst of her self-consciousness, running his delicate fingers between her hanging breasts and over her abs.

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” Mendle sighed while staring up at her.

It cut off the mounting orc’s momentum as Ruhk was left unsure what else to do with herself. She laughed awkwardly and fresh blush crossed her green cheeks.

“Shut up,” she muttered. “You’re gonna make it weird.”

Mendle smiled and leaned up the short distance to kiss her lips quickly.

“Good. I like it weird.”

“Oh that’s it!” Ruhk laughed at the playful challenge. She grabbed the goblin by the hair and properly mounted him, bringing her hips down on him like a force of nature. The dense weight of her muscular midsection slammed her groin on top of his cock, swallowing it up with the strength and hunger of a ravenous beast.

Ruhk gave a short, content hum as she felt him fit inside her. The goblin’s dick wasn’t going to fill her to the bring or anything, but it was hard and warm and welcomed within her walls. Mendle gave a small grunt as he adjusted to the heavy weight pressing down on him, but he planted his hands on her wide thighs to steady himself. Goblins were a race long used to squeezing into tight spaces and bumping into things in the dark, so he wasn’t about to get crushed by her any time soon.

“Feels good,” Ruhk sighed as her muscular thighs bulged, starting to grind on top of her short lover.

“Real good,” Mendle agreed softly.

He pumped his hips beneath her, probing his cock into the large woman’s vagina. While she rode him roughly, he was taking his time with careful strokes that explored and made himself comfortable inside her.

“Good… just try and keep up then.”

Building up her confidence, Ruhk leaned harder into her lover. Mendle shivered and moaned as her deep and thick pussy swallowed up his member to the point where her juices rubbed against his inner thighs. The barbarian was taking point as she braced her hands by his head and put her full weight against his hips. Mendle was too short to reach her face but he was content to latch onto her swinging breasts with his hands and mouth, sucking and nibbling on her nipples.

“MmmmMM! That’s it. Take me, little man,” Ruhk ordered as her arousal quickly overpowered any awkwardness. Any good barbarian had little trouble listening to her instincts.

“Okay… if you really want,” Mendle muttered.

His cock bumped up against an especially firm piece of flesh and Ruhk’s mouth dropped open. Her fierce eyes fluttered and softened in an instant as the goblin made a mental note of his position inside her. He squeezed roughly at her breasts, confident that he couldn’t really hurt the brawny barbarian as he went back to thrusting at the same sweet spot. He wasn’t as big as an orc lover, but the precision of his undersized cock maneuvering around a woman twice his size meant it was that much easier to find her clit.

“Oh my gods,” Ruhk gasped as her fingers flexed against their bedroll. Her muscles rippled across her body as they tensed and released from the steady pressure against her cluster of tender nerves. Her thick legs squeezed tightly around Mendle’s, clutching him closely to her pussy.

“Don’t worry. I gotcha,” the bard assured her as he started thrusting harder. Ruhk’s low voice gasped and moaned as she slumped closer to his pointed ears. She bit down on one tenderly and the sting felt like a small price for feeling her massive body quivering against him.

With his lover in a heated and vulnerable state, Mendle started to press his hands against her firm stomach. She took the point and submissively eased herself back, yielding to the little man as he guided her towards laying on her back. He took a moment to mount her rather than the other way around, finding the right balance between her widespread and muscular thighs. The goblin ended up resting his head on one of her meaty breasts as he hugged around her toned stomach, using her tree trunk of a body as a grip to keep riding her hard.

Ruhk gasped rapidly, higher than Mendle would have thought a gruff voice like hers could go. Her eyes glazed over as he firmly groped and bit at her breasts while his small body humped his full length into her just to flick against her clit. The mix of forceful pushing with teasing results seemed the perfect kind of stroking Ruhk needed to keep her soaking wet beneath him.

Ruhk panted out a shrill and frantic string of orcish curses as her brawny arms wrapped around Mendle. She squeezed him tightly enough for him to grunt as his face was buried into her boobs, squashing his nose against as it was forced to huff in her strong and sweaty musk. The surprisingly aggressive bearhug drew him back into her rapidly as if she couldn’t stand to be apart from his dick.

The heavy burst of strength was enough to make Mendle finish off inside her. Her pinning hug let him hump her like a rabbit in heat as he shot his burst of thick and sticky goblin cum inside her. It clearly didn’t go unnoticed as the muscles in her arms and legs pulsed, squeezing him harder like she was trying to empty a tube of toothpaste. Mendle gave a final gurgle as the last of his seed shot inside her, left to stir around her pussy as his stiff little dick flicked it around. It smeared past her clit like a carefully applied lotion. The firm yet slick caress against her sweet spot got Ruhk to thrust hard as she came, her mighty hips shoving hard enough to lift Mendle a couple inches off of her before her squeezing grip dragged him back into her. A thick gush of her fluids warmed the space around his cock as she held onto him tightly, every warm and sweaty muscle shaking beneath him.

“Fucking hells…” she panted breathlessly. Ruhk sounded more out of breath than she had after fighting the hydra. She craned her head down low enough to kiss the top of Mendle’s head a few times.

“Ohhh Grom’s bloody axe that was good.”

“Yea. Definitely… that,” the goblin sighed as he clung to her lower body. It was just as surprising to find the bard at a loss for words as he nuzzled her chest.

“So… did you have any plans after this whole quest?” Ruhk asked as she traced a finger mindlessly through her lover’s hair. He shook his head beneath her fingertip.

“But if you were looking for somebody to travel with…” he offered.

The big woman squeezed him tightly. The goblin giggled despite the dull ache of her grip.

“Love to,” she answered, finishing up his thought like he had with hers. Mendle finally brought himself to slip out from her drenched pussy and climbed her body high enough to kiss her again. The two curled up together in the tent, too absorbed in each other’s adoration and body heat to bother with a blanket.

---

“So do you mind splitting a tent?” Laz asked as she glanced at Sorin.

“If we need to… aye. Do you think…?” the dwarf mused.

“Oh yea,” the monk said with a nod. “He obviously put up a Silence spell, but believe me. Silence does nothing to stop the smell of orc on goblin sex and I am not going near that tent.”