Half-Elf Amongst Orcs

Sparrow stood in the doorway staring at the slender half-elf before him. Even from this distance, which admittedly wasn’t much, he knew that his big bulky frame dwarfed the comparatively tiny woman. Bulky orcs were called such for a reason, after all.

His heart beat with desire and his eyes traced her every move as she gracefully set out a meal for the both of them.

At the bright, dazzling smile she turned onto him, his belly churned with shame and uncertainty.

In smooth gentle tones she issued an invitation, “Come in, share a meal with me.” Drawn in like a moth to the flame he stepped fully into the room, pulling the door to as he moved.

Yet he hesitated behind the chair that was ready and waiting. Broodingly, he stared down at the delicate, curious lines of her face before finally muttering, “This is wrong, I shouldn’t be here.” The old boars would be angry, but he just couldn’t do it.

As he slowly backed away she spoke up hurriedly, “You’ve already paid for a week, at least share a meal with me.”

He hesitated yet again. It was a long trip to take on an empty belly, and a simple meal wouldn’t hurt. Right?

With every fiber of his being radiating his reluctance, he slowly took his seat.

Dishing him up, she gave him a sad little frown as she tentatively asked, “Do you not find me desirable?”

“What?!” He spit the word out incredulously, before rushing to reassure the forlorn face she turned on him. “Fuck! No, not that! It’s just…” Trailing off with a groan he buried his face into his hands as he muttered, “Why did the gods make us this way? It’s so messed up.”

He didn’t even hear her move, but she must have, as he felt her small warm hand tugging at his wrist. Carefully, he lowered his hand and started into a pair of the warmest blue eyes he’d ever seen.

His breath caught in his throat as her scent hit him, and he hung on her every word as she asked in full curiosity, without an ounce of condemnation, “What’s wrong with it?”

Lowering his other hand he mumbled, “Well, to start, I don’t even know your name.”

Grinning cheerfully, she pulled her chair closer and sat back down to feed him a bite before she said, “Most orcs prefer not to know.” His eye twitched at the despicableness of this as he ate without tasting.

Smoothing her fingers over his twitching muscle, she introduced herself, “I’m Evalynn, it’s nice to meet you.”

Pulling her dishes over as well, Sparrow bashfully muttered, “I’m Sparrow, you’re very pretty.”

“You’re quite handsome yourself,” she chirped out before asking curiously, “What else is wrong though?”

He didn’t want to eat. He knew he should, but his stomach was still churning with nerves and shame. But it also did not seem like she was going to eat without him, and he couldn’t see her starve while he fought with himself.

Instead of answering her question, he carefully dug into her bowl, and started feeding her. Flashing him an amused look, she went along with this for a few bites, before placing a hand on his to stop him as she offered, “How about we play a game? Every time someone answers a question, we’ll both take a bite.”

Regretfully, he set her spoon down before picking his up and staring at his pretty food. Finally, he muttered, “It feels like we’re prized pigs being put in a pen to breed. And I’m sure you’d much rather be at home with your family than here.”

“Well at least we’re prized!” she quipped cheerfully.

When all that elicited was a dispirited grunt, she more gently informed him, “Honestly, this isn’t too much different from the life I expected to have growing up.” Looking up, he finally took a bite on his own as he listened. “My mother was an owned prostitute, which means I was born being owned. I was actually on my way to a very wealthy man when the orcs seized the caravan I was in.”

Hesitantly, Sparrow asked, “Wouldn’t that have still been better?”

“I was thirteen, going to be a concubine to a man much older than yourself.” she replied flatly.

At his outraged grumble she switched back to her honeyed cheerful tone as she continued, “I had far more of a childhood in this whore house than I ever had outside it.”

Sparrow had still been a goblin when he’d been removed from the breeding house and sent to the farm, but her statement still rang as somehow… off. He blinked at her in confusion as he puzzled it out. Once he added in the fact that he’d only brought enough coin for three days, he blurted out, “Wait, why wasn’t you raised in the breeding house? And how come I have a week when I only paid for three days?”

“Clever,” she said cheekily, “two questions with one answer.”

Curiously he tilted his head and awaited her answer. Eventually, after she’d had her fill of staring at him with a teasing smile, she spoke, “Half-elves always produce mellow offspring. So, our value to most orcs, especially when we’re breedable, is very low.”

At his thoughtful nod she asked a question of her own, “Why do you think it’s wrong, when so few others do?”

Hesitantly and shyly he answered, “For the first five years of my life, I only ever saw the women of the breeding house.”

Evalynn blinked a couple of times in surprise before she asked, “Not even another goblin or one of the guards?” At his head shake she continued, “Then what happened?”

Fiddling with a small roll he mumbled, “I uh, tried to protect one of the women from the guards, and got sent straight to a farm.”

Unlike everyone else that he had ever admitted this to, she did not laugh. Instead she leaned towards him and with great interest asked, “What’s the farm like?”

With growing enthusiasm he ate as he spoke, “Well I tried to run away at first.” Seeing her giggle at that, his nerves slowly started to melt away, and he gave her a small smile.

Slowly, he told her about the other goblins, and how all but one of them left as they grew into lads. Then how, when the farm requested lads to replace them, they only got two. Then, in more somber tones, he spoke of the old men and how all but two of them had died off. They were still managing to run the farm with just six orcs, but he didn’t know how long that would last. And the lord still was not sending them lads, and he still was not granting breeding requests. So the old bastard had scraped up enough scratch to try and send him, who was the biggest of the younger orcs, to town to try his luck with a whore.

Before he knew it, the meal was done, and while he had cheered up and enjoyed talking to her for most of it, by the end he had fallen back into his morose mood.

He looked away from her, saddened and unsure. She delicately placed one of her small hands upon his forearm and coaxed, “It has gotten late, how about we get into bed and you can tell me more about your farm life and clot.”

He had been enjoying her company, so he was loath to leave, but he was also very aware that she had not much choice in the matter. Still, laying next to each other and talking could not hurt. Right?

Slowly, reluctantly, he nodded and let out a soft, “Alright.”

Sparrow watched as she started stacking dishes upon a tray. Not wanting to get in her way or interfere, he simply moved his dishes closer. Once she finished and tried to lift the tray, he wordlessly took it from her and to the other side of the door.

By the time he turned around, Evalynn was unabashedly stripping out of her outfit. With his breath caught in his throat, he could not look away until she had covered her lovely body with a simple nightgown that barely reached her knees.

Gulping convulsively, he finally started breathing again as he yanked his eyes away and tried to calm his pounding heart.

He very nearly jumped out of his skin when she placed a hand upon his arm and said in her soft soothing voice, “You should strip to your loincloth, and join me in bed.”

Nodding mutely and quickly, he darted his wide eyed gaze towards her and then away again as she sashayed towards the enormous canopied bed.

With clumsy fingers he disrobed, and carefully folded his clothes before stacking them on a chair. He glanced towards the bed once more, looking around for anything to delay his approach for one moment more. Spotting the candles, he wandered around the room, very carefully and methodically putting each and every one out.

Then finally, in the pitch dark, having to rely on his memory and the sense of the room he was getting from his tusks, he made his way to the bed. Sweeping back the curtain, he was relieved to notice that her warmth was coming from the opposite side of the bed.

Climbing under the covers, he laid at the very edge of the mattress. Just as he finally started to convince himself to relax, Evalynn wiggled over, and pulled his arm around her. Stiffening up once more, Sparrow was afraid to even breathe too deeply as she invaded his every active sense.

Her fingers splayed out over his chest, leisurely exploring as she asked, “Are you a virgin?”

“No,” he squeaked out, before clearing his throat and anxiously replying, “Me and Bitch like to fuck around with each other.”

Her curious voice flowed out of the dark like an invisible will-o-whisp. “Tell me about him, and the rest of them.

He shifted around a bit, to get more comfortably on the bed. Slowly, Sparrow spoke as he did so, “Well, Little Bitch and the old bastard are the only two lanky orcs on the farm. Like you, Bitch has blond hair and blue eyes, but they’re darker than yours.”

“I bet his hair is shorter too,” she briefly interrupted to say.

Relaxing a bit, he let out a soft, “Yeah,” before continuing. “Bitch loves animals, and he immediately took to learning everything he could ’bout keeping them healthy, and curing what ails them. Which turned out to be a good thing, ’cause the old boar who was in charge of that was the first of them to die…”

He was only able to wallow in his sadness briefly before she prodded him with, “What about The Old Bastard?”

“Neil? He was born to the farm, him and Derick are the only two that were. He’s the only one left to tend the house while the rest of us’re takin’ care of the animals and fields. He’s kinda… somewhere between clot and parent for most of us? And lately he’s been insistin’ on a respectable title.”

Evalynn let out a soft chuckle at that last part. Smiling slightly, Sparrow traced his fingers over her back as he went on, “Derick’s dad is the old man, and we don’t know how long he’ll be workin’ in the fields with us. He’s older’n most’ve the rest of the guys when they just didn’t wake up…”

He was allowed to feel his sadness for a little bit longer this time, before she interrupted his thoughts to ask, “What about the other one?”

“Ah, Smear? He’s taller than me, Derick is shorter. But for some reason neither one of them ever filled out prop’ly,” he replied with a shrug.

After that, she asked more questions. Drawing him out of his shell little by little, and occasionally sharing tidbits of her own life as he slowly relaxed into the soft bedding and her softer presence. Yet at the back of his mind, he could not quite let go of the worry that she was simply doing her job. By the time he drifted off, he desperately wanted it to be more than her job. But he knew such desires were unrealistic.