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[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love, Pt. 5

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 Word Count: 2,724 (average 16 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

I tried to pretend that the sweat dripping off of my body was because of physical exertion walking, but the pain in the pit of my stomach and the tightness of my muscles as I held back the incessant urges inside was a constant reminder that my symptoms were only getting worse.

I had hoped with distance, the urge to mate would diminish, but I found that walking away from Altan grew more difficult with each step. The thought kept passing that Altan was likely experiencing the same thing, and I felt even more sorry that my legs couldn’t walk me faster.

The travel to the outerlands was less than a week’s travel. I would sometimes be offered a ride to the next town, which would help me in getting there faster, but my body would seize as I sat on the back of the wagon, and my fists would be clenched and my jaw tight as I muscled through polite conversation. I’m sure they all found me mad or intimidating, but it was taking everything to keep myself in control. 

The only comfort I had was at night, sleeping under the stars and returning to that space in my dreams where Altan would wait for me. He never complained about the situation, but would instead ask me how I was faring and tell me stories.

I was able to make a living with my forge creating tools and instruments for the local folk to purchase and I took great pride that my work was not only sturdy, but it was also pleasant to look at, even though I never considered myself an artist. 

Altan, however, was an artist. The way he told stories, recited poetry and sang - it was all art. He carried so much grace and confident motion within him, even the way his fingers danced upon the air as he elaborated his story, I could never look away from those slender fingers and the control they had with each subtle brush and wave. His torso would sway, and I found myself frequently bound to staring at his waist and the slight curve there. He was as much a masterpiece of art. He was music, he was poetry, he was…magnificent. In the quiet of our own special dreamspace he would weave tales that his mother passed down to him - of the ancient days when his elven ancestors fought to defend their lands from a long dead evil. 

He soothed much of my worry for him with his honey-silver tongue, but it created a deeper, more permanent ache inside me that I recognized never left in our dream world. A want to be near him, a want to see him and be seen by him. I struggled to say words around him, but he always cleverly and patiently wheedled answers out of me. 

I learned that Altan had always dreamed of running away to be an artist and bring people joy.

He learned that I had always dreamed of traveling to new places, even across the sea if I ever got lucky. 

I learned that Altan was the oldest with two siblings, and his mother was a high-born elf who left her people to be with Altan’s father. He seemed to clam up when it came to his father.

He learned that I had four broodmothers, and one very larger-than-life father who led our orc clan through countless raids and sired more siblings than I could count but yet he somehow remembered all of our names.

Altan liked rainy days, sweet food especially when it had cinnamon, and he often got in trouble as a child for rescuing animals off the sides of the roads.

I liked sunny days, spicy food that burned my face off, and often dazed off thinking about things and could go days without talking to a soul.

Altan loved people, and I was scared of most people. We both enjoyed sleeping in late, and didn’t enjoy following rules when they could be avoided. And we both felt like disappointments to our family, despite how hard we both worked for an otherwise more positive reaction. 

We were both each other’s first friend.

I found each night as our conversation ended and our dreams pulled us back to the waking world, that I found great comfort in Altan’s presence and a remorse at having to say goodbye. He seemed to enjoy my company in return and I wondered if this is what it felt like to have a friend. A real friend. 

I pondered it as I gritted my teeth and trudged through the misery of my days. I cursed Gruumsh for my misery and I prayed to any other god who would listen to watch out for Altan.

When I reached the border of my family’s land, I sniffed the air and followed the trail of smoke that wafted in the air. Orc tribes travel through the seasons and live in a shared commune that reminded me of an elaborate camp. There was always food on the fire, furs to nestle in and a sibling or mate to keep you company. As a child I remembered having no privacy in my home. There was always one of my mothers, or a sibling around to watch my every move. It was anxiety-inducing and I recognized that my body was holding a pit of dread alongside my need to mate. 

I knew who I would need to see once I arrived, and I hoped that I could slip through without much notice.

But I would not be so lucky.

A horn blew as I stepped into outer circle of the commune. I saw orcs all around raise their heads from their work and turn to find me slowly approaching. It took some of them a few moments before they recognized me. I held my breath and waited for the loud and violent impact of my family.

“Drunrag!” They exclaimed, and some raced over to my side. My shoulders, arms, back, chest, and backside were all slapped - there was no such thing as hugging in my family - and loud obnoxious comments made about how slim I was. None of them seemed to notice that I swayed under their slaps as the pull of lordhovid pulled me back to wherever Altan was.

“Drunni!” I recognized my broodsister, Orga, as she clapped her hands on both my shoulders and knocked her forehead against mine. “We have missed you so much!” She grimaced as she pulled her hands back, damp with my sweat, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I need to see Nezda.” I managed. “Now.”

Nezda was one of our oldest she-orcs in our commune. All of her mates had since passed on and she alone was the one teaching the young ones our history. I remembered her as old when I was but a young pup, and I wondered how old she was then. 

Orga led me with the rest of my family following behind begging for questions from me. Orga and I had often fought as we grew, she always pushed me harder than any of my other siblings, but when I looked over at her then, I saw only a passive look on her face. I didn’t know what that meant.

“Nezda!” She called, her hands was on my bicep as she practically dragged me into the tent that Nezda stayed in. It looked exactly as I remembered it. Layers of furs on the ground, stools and cushions to sit against and a burning hearth that kept the room stifling with heat. I groaned at the amount of heat inside and outside of me. It was getting to be too much. 

“The quiet one has returned, I see.” Nezda’s voice rasped as she came from behind a curtain. Her violent green eyes locked onto mine. She had never liked me, told my father that I was too quiet, asked too many questions and didn’t think fast enough to be a warrior. She had been the first to call me broken when I was the last one of my brood to be unmated. I saw how she looked at me then, and I felt the same chilling shame that I did as a child and I averted my gaze from her.

Orga went about shooing the other siblings away from Nezda’s tent, eventually leaving only Orga and Nezda inside me. Two of the women I feared the most in all of my life, cornering me. 

“What is this, Drunrag?” Orga’s voice was expectant and harsh. “Where is she?”

“Who?” I asked.

“Your raebukan!” Orga yelled. “You think I don’t know what you’re feeling?”

I shook my head, “There is no mate, I need this to go away.” I looked to Nezda. “Help me. Please.”

“Lordhovid does not manifest without a mate, shakedul.”

I felt so small with Nezda referencing me as a child, nothing more than just a boy in her eyes. While most of my siblings were probably having their third or fourth child, maybe even starting clans of their own…I was nothing more than a child to them. I hated how I felt here.

“You dukitod.” Orga continued the trail of insults, forcing my eyes away from her judgemental stare. “Why would you resist this? You’re finally one of us.” 

I shook my head, “No. You must listen. There is no mate.”

Nezda narrowed her eyes at me. “You are speaking half truth, shakedul. Where is she?”

I looked at her, my face intent and pleading. Please. I begged in my head. Just listen. “Revered one, I will not lie to you. There is no woman for me to mate with.”

She narrowed her eyes further and a long, drawn out groan escaped her lips. She shook her head and walked towards me. Her long, bony fingers came up to my forehead and grasped each side of my temple. I closed my eyes and clenched.

I could hear her heavy breathing as she poured herself into my mind. She would see Altan, she would see he is not my mate. I was relieved to be seen as telling the truth. I dreaded my family knowing about Altan. He was mine to know, not theirs.

“Hmmmm” Nezda pulled back and her green eyes were on me like spotlights. “You do not lie. You do not speak truth. There is a mate. But a man.”

“What?” Orga exclaimed. She broke into an ugly fit of laughter and she slapped her hand on me. “You really are broken, brother.”

I ignored her and looked up to Nezda. “Will you help me?”

“You have not mated with him?” She asked.

I looked at her aghast, as if my crumbling composure wasn’t enough to show her. “No. I would not touch him.” 

She didn’t speak, but only continued to study me. I finally broke her silence. “Please tell me you know of a way to reverse lordhovid.”

“Sacrilege” Orga breathed. “To mate is an honor.”

I resisted shaking my head at her and screaming to her the nightmare it was to be forced to mate. I hated the idea of all of this happening without my permission. I did not feel honored looking at Altan’s perfect body and desiring it without even knowing him. 

“Hush.” Nezda hissed. “Leave, kristifam.”

Orga looked like she wanted to protest, but she quietly bowed her head before making her way out of the tent. I caught the whispered curses under her breath as she passed me. 

“You…feel nothing for your raebukan?” She asked.

It was an unfair question. All of this, I realized, was because I cared for Altan. I think I was suddenly feeling more for him than I was prepared for, and most of it was happening even when I was in our dreams where lordhovid didn’t affect me. I wanted to end lordhovid now because I wanted to feel something for him without my body hurting us, hurting him. 

Nezda didn’t wait for my answer, she sniffed. “Does he feel nothing for you?”

I didn’t really know that. I knew he wasn’t afraid of me. I knew he saw me as a friend. He certainly thought good of me. But I assumed there wasn’t much more than that. I could see that he would likely be that way with anyone if given the chance. I shook my head at her. 

She hummed, her eyes piercing. “Mating in our clan is considered an honor above death in battle, you understand?”

I nodded.

“Would you choose to be dishonored by your own blood?”

“I will not do something that would dishonor him.” I affirmed.

She nodded once and bowed her head. “You will feel worse before you feel better.” She said. “Are you prepared?”

I spoke gravely, “I am, yes. Tell me what to do.”

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 7

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 1857(average 14 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

My head was pounding when I woke up from whatever Nezda did to me. I was in an empty tent that wasn’t hers, and I was buried in a pile of soft furs. I lifted my head, groaning as I felt the pounding intensify.

Nezda had poured something vile down my throat that made every part of my body spark like lightning was coursing through me. I remembered that I was screaming from the pain of it all and that it felt like it had lasted for hours. I remembered Nezda saying something over my screams about how the mating instinct must be burned out of me. Orga was there, I remembered, her face watching me with that same passive look as I screamed through the pain.

When it all stopped, I was laying in a pile of my own sweat and drool and I blinked up to see Nezda and Orga leaning over me before I passed out.

“Charul.” A gruff voice spoke. I jumped and whirled around to see the hulking mass that was my father. 

I was average sized for an orc, but my father was far above average. He was a mountain in my eyes, a guardian of the clan. His skin was a deeper green than all of the rest and his fangs were large, protruding tusks that reached even above his upper lip. He was everything that orcs took pride in - strength, dominance, a protector - and I saw in him everything I lacked. My father was full of the life and vitality that we so cherished to breed into all of our children. His laugh was always the loudest, his destruction in battle the most widespread, and his love the most unending. I remembered him playing with my siblings and I when we were young, how he would wrestle with us. He was everything I needed him to be. I looked to him to be the best person I could be. He was my joy, he was my pride, he was my shame. Everything about him was large and so much to take in. His deep eyes looked down upon me. I knew he knew who I was. I remembered those same eyes looking at me when I told him I was leaving. He had said nothing then, but I could see that he was eager to speak now. 

I had not spoken orcish for so long, but my brain adapted quickly to hearing my native tongue again. I did not miss the harshness of it on my tongue, nor the insults that I often heard from it, but it was familiar and a comfort as my father held his hand out to me and helped me up to my feet. I felt so small, so so small in his shadow. 

“Nezda speaks to me of your mate.” He said.

I looked down at my feet.I did not want to see his face as he spoke to me of my dishonorable choice.

“Your mate was not orc. Was not able to bear you children. You denied lordhovid.” He sighed. “Why, my son, have you always been such a difficulty to this family?”

I clenched my eyes tight. I could not bear it. I heard all of the despair, disappointment in his voice. He sounded exhausted. 

“I am unworthy, father.” I said. “Gruumsh has seen me unworthy of your name.”

My father sighed again, “Drunrag.”

“I will go. I will not return.” I continued, talking over him. “I will not let my brokenness hurt this family.”

“Drunrag.”

“I will not take the name you gave me. I will go far where I cannot sully you. And I will gratefully accept any punishment you give me.”

“DRUNRAG.” His voice thundered. “You will listen to me.”

I jerked up to meet his gaze, my body shaking at his booming voice. 

“You…will not be banished.” He said. The news felt like it should be a relief, but I still felt the sadness and exhaustion buried beneath his words. 

“You have always been my most loyal, my most faithful child.” He said. “I remember you clung to my every word as I raised you in our ways. But you were always soft. Always tender. You asked too many questions that it made your mothers scream.” He chuckled. “You were different from us, and I asked Gruumsh many times why you could not be like the rest of us.”

I waited with bated breath for the answer.

He shook his head, “Gruumsh was silent. And then you left us.”

I opened my mouth to apologize, but he shook his head. “You found your mate out there, but returned to us with a plea to remove the lust in your body. Nezda warned you that it would be seen as sacrilege.”

“Having a mate was not my choice.”

I saw my father pause, needing to take a breath at that comment. I knew it went against everything my family taught. For orcs, there wasn’t such a thing as choice. I regretted opening my mouth. 

He shook his head, “I’ve made peace that you see the world differently than us, and I will not punish you for it. Yet, I fear where your choices will lead you.” He turned and reached for a small vial that was attached to his belt. “I had Nezda make this for you. It is rare, so do not be foolish.”

I took the vial from his hands, it was glass with crimson liquid inside. It looked like blood. 

“What is it?” I asked.

“It will restore lordhovid to you, should you ever change your mind. There is your blood mixed with the blood of three generations before you. Drink it, and the fires of your lust will return to you to complete your mating.”

I blanched, “Why would you give this to me?”

My father shook his head. “You may never drink it, and that is fine. But you are family…and whoever your mate will be will also be family. I do not want you to be afraid of us, son, nor do I want you to be afraid of yourself. We are your family. We will keep you…even as broken as you are.”

I clung to the vial with a newfound warmth in my body. “Father. I do not deserve this.”

“There will be a feast for you tonight. You must at least stay the night before you go. Do not speak of your mating to anyone.” He said, rising to his full height and heading towards the entrance of the tent. He was about to step out when he paused and turned back in, “Orga was the one who urged for you to not be banished. Make your gratitude known before you leave.”

Somehow my father understood that even with this gracious gift I was given from him, I would not stay here. I needed to return to my new life, and to Altan. The warmth spread in me further. I had someone waiting for me when I returned that promised me a future that wasn’t as lonely as it had been before.

The feasting was loud, raucous and irreverent. No one would have guessed the solemnity and soberness my father had before the feast. His tankward sloshed uneasily as he downed one drink after another, his jokes becoming more and more crass as the evening passed on. My mothers were around him, each of them arguing over who was it that bore me. It was obvious my family wanted an excuse to drink and be merry. Most didn’t even hardly acknowledge me as being the guest of honor, which suited me fine. 

I found myself sitting next to Orga, who was holding one of her children on her lap and another was playing at her feet. I regarded the young ones with a short pat on their heads before I sidled next to her. 

“I must thank you for what you did for me.” I said. 

“Why do you sound so formal about it?” She grunted. “We’re family, idiot, of course I’m going to make sure you don’t get left behind.”

“But…” I hesitated. ‘I thought you were always disappointed in me.” 

She shrugged, “I was. But that doesn’t mean I don’t ever want to see you again.” She furrowed her brows at me. “You think too much for an orc, you know that?”

I nodded with a wry smile, “I’ve been told that a few times, yes.”

She handed the young orc to me and said plainly. “This is Dorug, you haven’t met him yet.” 

The young orc looked up at me with large dark eyes. Their skin was a pale, almost sage green. I knew it would darken as they aged, but I loved the softness of a new babe’s skin and the way they always smelled so clean and warm. I smiled down at my sister’s child and the child only gaped at me back.

“Thank you, Orga.” I said. I glanced at her as I bounced the babe on my lap.

She shrugged again. “You’re welcome, stupid.”

The feasting and revelry went well into the late hours of the night, but I was no longer accustomed to such wildness and I found myself sneaking back into the tent that I had awoken in. My pack was already full and bulging with rations for the journey home. I pondered leaving right then, but some sleep would do me good.

And I hoped that maybe Altan and I would still see each other, if I were lucky.

I laid myself down on the furs to sleep, and awoke with the sun peaking over the horizon.

I felt an emptiness in my gut. There would be no more dreams with Altan. 

I hoisted my pack on my shoulders and snuck out of the tent. Most of the commune was quiet and still and everyone was sleeping in from such a late night. I walked through without anyone seeing me, or so I thought.

“Boy.” Nezda’s voice rattled. She was standing outside her tent. Her white hair was piled atop her head in a nest. I turned and walked towards her.

“Revered One.” I said.

She pointed at the vial that I had strung around my neck. “Listen to me, boy, if you drink that vial, it will be stronger than it was before and there will be no reversing it this time, do you understand?”

I looked down at the vial, the crimson liquid looked so unassuming inside. I nodded. “I understand, Revered One.”

She regarded me, looking me up and down. “Eat more while you’re gone. You’re looking scrawny for your age, boy.” 

I bit back the smile and bowed my head. “I will…grandma” I teased.

She kicked my shin before I danced away, “Such disrespect from you, boy!”

We both shared a knowing smile before I resumed my quiet exit from my home.  I looked back once more, etching the memory of my large family all together in my brain and a promise on my lips that I would return again someday. With or without a mate.

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 10

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 Word Count: 2171 (average 17 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

Altan POV

Drunrag had followed me here. I wasn’t prepared to see him there in the crowd, my heart caught in my throat when I saw him. He was there. He was more handsome than I remembered. His gray eyes were on me, only me. His gaze was meaningful, wanting and intense. 

He followed me, his eyes roaming to find me. I didn’t know what any of this meant. I thought lordhovid was over, but yet he looked at me with more desire in his eyes than I had seen when he was caught in his lust. I was scared at how much I wanted those eyes on me like that, scared and delighted at how much it made me burn in return for him. 

Only my father saw the same burning and I felt the cold taste of fear in my mouth as he glanced at Drunrag’s wanting stare and my own inability to hide what mirrored in my eyes. He knew immediately what Drun was to me. I could not meet his stare. My brothers on either side pretended not to notice how the air turned icy as the team of riders wound through the town and out into the countryside. 

Father had promised us a nice day out for all of us being so obedient the last few weeks. I don’t know what he meant by that because I had ignored every summon for private lessons and had instead remained isolated in my room. He had not said anything to me about it yet, but I knew with Drun, time was now ticking down until I would have to face down my father’s true wrath. 

However, my brothers were eager for the excursion away from home and they enjoyed the attention from the citizens of Berdusk. I found the whole thing to be excessive and performative, but in this instance, I couldn’t help but be grateful for the public display. 

I was able to see Drunrag. And for that, I would face any punishment that came with that. 

When the team stopped in the small secluded clearing in the woods, my brothers were set loose with bows and arrows, dogs on their heels ands escorts on their backs as they ventured out. My father had stopped and was adjusting his saddle, he noticed my reluctance to urge my horse any further and narrowed his eyes at me. 

“You will not be joining us?” He asked.

I shook my head, “You know how I feel about hunting.”

“As I recall, you spoiled the meat with your excessive tears.” He said, mocking.

I smirked. “Then you will be grateful that I intend to do nothing to spoil your hunt this time. I will remain in this clearing like a good little boy and cause you no trouble.”

“Oh you’ve already done yourself quite enough trouble, my son.” He said, finishing his adjustments and looking back in my direction. “What is an orc doing in my town, looking at you like that?”

“Am I not allowed admirers?” I asked.

He scoffed. “That was not admiration in his eyes, nor yours for that matter. So I will ask again, who is he and what is he doing here?”

I held his gaze, saying nothing. Anything I said would just go back to hurt Drun, and I would not do that to him. 

“Fine. Keep your secrets. I have my way of getting what I want.” He said. “I’d very much like his fangs as a necklace, it would look quite impressive. Wouldn’t you say?”

My level gaze broke as I spat at him. “Don’t you dare touch him.”

He smirked. “I knew it. He’s got you wrapped around his finger. Disgusting.” He turned to the guards that stayed around us. “Make sure he stays put.” And then he followed my brothers’ distant whoops and yells and left me behind.

I felt my shoulders sink in defeat after my father was out of sight. All of the tension in me, gone. I looked at the guards around me and I said in my most demanding voice. “I need to relieve myself.”

The guards all looked a bit uncomfortable at the announcement. “We will escort you, your grace.”

I gasped, using my best petulant spoiled voice I knew, ‘You will do no such thing! I demand privacy. I won’t be just a moment over there behind those bushes.” I swung myself off of my house and raced towards the bushes. I could feel all of their eyes on me, none of them dared argue with me and so I used that to my advantage.

Now in the privacy of the bushes I was finally able to take the long, needed breath I had been dying for. My face was still flushed. I sat on the ground and drew my knees up and just sat in the quiet. I hadn’t had this amount of peace since I ran away. I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. 

I suddenly heard just the gentlest of rustlings and I opened my eyes to see Drun kneeling across from me. 

I opened my mouth to exclaim, but then he put his hand across my lips. His touch, oh gods, his touch. I was so doomed if just this alone sent me to unholy places in my mind. His eyes were wide and he glanced up over the bushes, the guards were not far from where we were. I nodded and he drew his mouth back. 

“Drun.” I breathed. My hands were already reaching for him, eager to touch him again. “How did you find me?”

He shrugged, “Orcs are excellent hunters.”

I let out a breathy laugh. “Was that…a joke?”

His cheeks darkened, a blush forming. “I’m sorry. I felt like something was wrong. I wanted to see you again.”

“I’m glad that you came.” I said, “You didn’t tell me that you’d found a cure.”

He appeared so guilty “I’m sorry.”

“Hey.” I said. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m glad that you found me. Although, you know who my father is now.” I said. “

“Duke Hilmar.” He answered. “He saw me. I think he doesn’t like me.”

“No.” I answered. “He wouldn’t. He believes some races are inferior to others. It’s wrong.” I quickly interjected with “But I don’t think that way. I don’t agree with him at all. You know that, yes?”

He smiled, “Yes. I know.”

“Is everything alright, your grace?” A guard’s voice called out.

“Ummm, taking a bit longer. Something I ate.” I say, grimacing. Drun’s own expression turned into a grimace as I kept going. “Maybe you could help?” I asked.

“Carry on.” They replied, a distasteful tone in their voice.

“Are you safe?” Drunrag asked.

I didn’t know how to answer. Yes, my basic needs were being met, but in every other way my father was doing everything to pull me back into his life and his way. If I stayed, it would break me and I would be nothing more than a shell. 

“Drunrag.” I started, “I had hoped that we would have had a chance to get to know each other better. In my head, I saw the two of us sharing our lives together more…but now that I’m here, things are different, more complicated. My father doesn’t like who I am, he wishes that I wasn’t so much like my mother. I think he’s going to try to change me. He expects me to become the next Duke of Berdusk, but I don’t want it. I want to be with you, living on the coast and being just a nobody.”

“With me?” His voice was calm, but I saw the way his eyes danced at those words. 

I nodded, “Drun, I didn’t get the chance to tell you before, but I-I want-”

The guard interjected once again. “Sir, are you sure you’re alright?”

I yelled out, “I just need to muscle through the worst bit. Not much longer!” 

There was silence as a response and I knew that our time was running out. 

I yanked his hand from his lamp and pulled it towards me and placed it on my chest. “Do you feel it?”

Drun’s eyes almost bugged as I held his hand there. Beneath the skin, my heart was beating wildly and strongly. It had nothing to do with me hiding from guards or my father, but everything to do with Drun. 

“Do you understand?” I asked, my tone urgent.

He looked up at me, nodding. “Yes.”

I grinned. “Good. We’ll find a way to be together, Drun. I’ll find you again. Stay out of sight until then.”

I pranced out of the bushes and let out a contented sigh as I settled into the nook of a tree and let my horse graze nearby. I resisted the urge to look back in the direction of the bushes where I knew Drunrag was waiting for a chance to sneak away. I couldn’t give him away. I couldn’t let anyone know that he was mine.

My brothers enjoyed their time in the woods, chasing rabbits and firing their arrows carelessly. My father watched and sometimes joined them. I found myself bent over a drawing pad, with a bit of charcoal in my hand as I loosely sketched whatever came to mind. 

I didn’t realize that each sketch was just another angle of Drunrag’s face. He looked so serious to an undiscerning eye, but I could see even in the rough charcoal sketches that it was more that he was lost in thought. I felt my stomach turn looking at him and how perfectly I had captured those big, wondrous eyes. 

I was careful to hide the sketches when I heard my family coming back and I quickly started a rough outline of a mountain scene. 

My brothers were delighted to show me their hunting trophies, to which I grimaced and begged them to keep them away from me. 

“Altan,” My father said. “Why don’t you ride up with me on the return journey?”

My brother’s smiles fell and they looked at me nervously. I shook my head slightly, don’t worry about it, I tried to say and without a word I collected myself and climbed up on my horse and guided him to stand next to my father. 

My father always smelled of soap. He bathed twice a day and always had to appear completely spotless. I sometimes dreamed of muddying his clothes and leaving them out to dry under the hot sun. He would kill me if I did it, but it made the bad days feel more manageable if I imagined it.

“You haven’t shown up for any of your studies.” He said our pace was steady and slow, allowing for conversation. I glanced back behind me and saw the dozens of riders behind me before rolling my eyes and returning my attention back to my father.. He was still acting all gentle and loving and concerned about all of this. I knew if I wasn’t careful, that exterior would soon crack. “Would you care to explain why?”

“Wouldn’t you find it insulting to put a twenty-three year old through private tutoring? For diplomacy? Public affairs?” I scoffed, “I think I understand diplomacy better than you ever could. Mother taught me better than any of those old men could.”

“Your mother clearly didn’t teach you everything right, I want to make sure there are not any gaps in your understanding. It’s very much a matter of public affairs when you’re found kissing orcs and stable boys.”

“And what, pray tell, is so wrong about kissing them?” I asked. “If they made me happy, and made sure that I was well cared for and they were loyal to the tenets we follow…what does it matter if they are man or orc?”

“Because it goes against the natural order. Love exists between man and woman. Love does not cross the boundaries of race.”

“You married mother.” I said, my voice biting.

“Yes, and we all know what that resulted in.” He sniffed. “A mistake. She could never adjust to being with humans, and she turned your minds with strange ideas because of it.”

I looked back, hoping my brothers hadn’t heard, but I saw both of their eyes, wide and alert on me as I met theirs. I felt my heart sink. They didn’t deserve to know how much my father resented our elfin blood. They didn’t need to know the pain of seeing their mother be brought down so low from their memories. 

“Alright,” My father sighed, “If you believe yourself capable, then let’s see how you perform. Join me tomorrow during my meeting with the council and we’ll see what you’re upbringing can offer.”

I knew he was testing me, baiting me. But I found myself confident and willing to rise to it. 

“I would love to join.”

I caught his smile, pleased, “Wonderful. Dress sharply.”

I smiled back. “I always do.”

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 9

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2160 (average 16 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

I looked for Altan everywhere, but I could not find him. I was at the market every morning looking for him. The vendors grew annoyed at my presence every morning. They told me I was bad for business with my grim expression. I didn’t really pay them any mind because I was too concerned about other things.

I told myself to stop worrying, that Altan clearly had just moved on now that things were done between us. I knew he had left home to get away from his father - or at least I assumed that from the way he talked - and I knew he likely couldn’t stay here forever. I had just hoped that all of those talks we had would mean something more…that maybe I could take the time to get to know him more.

I reopened my forge, tried to resume my work, but found that my mind would always stray to Altan and my hand would go up to the vial on my neck, playing with it. There was just this nagging feeling.

I was useless, completely useless. I found nothing could keep my focus for longer than a few minutes. My mind started to paint a different picture. What if Altan hadn’t left by choice? What if something was wrong? Something was telling me not to rest, not to settle down until I found him. 

I finally grew desperate enough to ask some of the inns around if they knew of him. Each one would consider me warily before answering. 

Luck would find me after a couple days of this, when the wife of one of the innkeeper’s pulled me down to take a seat and tell me all about the sweet boy she took care of that matched Altan’s description exactly. She handed me a piling plate of food - told me I looked like I could use it - before she told me all about how he would come and play at nights for the tenants.

“He had such an angelic voice. He sounded just like one of those glorious elves I hear about.” She reminisced. “He hid himself in his room for almost a week after a certain point. I left food at his door, and when he came out, he was a sorry mess.” She shook her head, her voice turning morose, “Not long after that, some official men came looking for him. They told us that he was the son of a duke. They grabbed his things and went and found him at the bathhouse and I suppose he’s back home.” She shook her head again. “He really was such a sweet young man.”

I felt my blood grow cold at the news of Altan being taken by his father’s people. His father was a Duke, a man of high rank. That meant Altan was also a noble. Immediate feelings of inadequacy and shame overwhelmed me. Who was I to Altan if nothing more than a distraction from his comfortable life? Maybe I was nothing more than a dalliance for the summer. I left the inn, feeling deflated and unsure what to do next.

I couldn’t sleep that night, my mind still stuck on Altan. I could swear that I was still experiencing lordhovid with all the time I was consumed thinking about him. I was worried. Genuinely worried. He didn’t say hardly two words about his father…but somehow I knew, I just knew that it meant something bad for him to be going back to him. He must have run away for a reason.

He had told me how much he had admired me and how I was his first friend. I couldn’t take any of that lightly. If he needed help, I might be the only person who could help him. 

The next day, I found myself stepping into the town’s library for the first time ever. The librarian looked at me with reluctance and disbelief that an orc would be in a library of all places. I ignored their ignorant comments, “Do you have any family charts of the Dukes that rule around here?” 

“What would you need it for?” The librarian asked.

“Do you have one or not?” I pressed, my tone impatient. 

The librarian’s eyes widened in fright and scurried away, returning with a book from a few years back that lists all of the Noble family names throughout the continent. 

I was still not the best at reading the common language, so I borrowed a paper and quill and wrote Altan’s name out so I could see exactly what it looked like and then my finger trailed over the lists, looking for any matches. The librarian watched me closely as I studied each name, one by one. I finally stopped when I found his name under the Family Hilmar. I ran my finger across his name again and again. Altan Hilmar. Altan Hilmar. His father was Taliesin Hilmar of Berdusk. His mother Telmira from Evermeet. A sun elf. 

The librarian aided me with a copy of a map that I studied finding the paths that would take me to Berdusk and I left with the librarian watching me with disbelief. 

The next day, I closed my forge again to the dismay of all my neighbors and customers and I was on the road again, this time with the intent to find Altan. I hoped that maybe seeing him would help me make sense of all of the feelings and thoughts I kept having about him and maybe I could help him too. 

The maps I followed that led me to Berdusk made the travel look straightforward. I kept to the main roads most of the time. I found my hand on the vial more and more often as my mind strayed to Altan through my walking. He was the main occupying thought in my brain. How was he? Was he safe? Is he happy? Am I wrong to do this? What if this is all a fools’ errand? Will he be happy to see me? What will I do when I see him? I pondered that last one a lot and I couldn’t deny that my arms around his waist was a frequent vision in my head. I still wondered what that would feel like.

When I entered the gates of Berdusk, not more than 6 days later, I noticed that most people’s eyes fell on me. It was not much of a diverse town. They were mainly human and they all seemed to watch me with a wary gaze. I caught one eye of a dragonborn who looked at me with an understanding nod. I nodded back before passing on and making my way towards the first inn I could spot. 

“We don’t make beds for folks like you.” The innkeeper said, glaring.

I nodded, “I’ll pay for a room with two beds then.”

“Don’t got any of those.” He said. 

I could spot the lie in his answer, but I didn’t fight it, instead I gave him my coin and walked up the stairs to where my room was. 

What in all of the nine hells was I doing here?

I played with the vial again and stared at the crimson liquid. I had pondered that little vial a lot while on the road and had considered maybe drinking it. It would have eased my anxiety of knowing exactly where Altan was, but I also didn’t know if it would be safe for him if I did that. I needed to know where he was before I did anything so foolish. Plus, I didn’t know what I really wanted yet. To see Altan, yes. To mate with him…that one still terrified me. But less so. If anyone were to be my mate…oh hells, these thoughts were so unfamiliar to me.

The bed was incredibly uncomfortable and I didn’t sleep well, but I awoke early in the morning and made my way towards the large mansion that sat above the rest of the town. I knew that would be where the Duke would be. However it was little use trying to make an appointment to meet with the Duke. The guards up front scoffed at my asking and dismissed me immediately without a dire need. I found myself growing more and more uncomfortable in this place.

I paced through the streets, my eyes always on the mansion above. I kept hoping I could spot him. I kept hoping I would find the answer I needed to know he was here, that he was okay. 

I never really got accustomed to the way people stared at me, and I felt like all of them were holding back their insults until I did something wrong. I was constantly on my guard. I didn’t really sleep much either. I started to have funny dreams of Altan alone in a room, separated from everyone and everything, pounding against a sealed door, begging to be set free, for someone to let him out. It troubled me every time I woke up from it. I didn’t know if it was my own brain making up this story…or if I should put more weight behind this dream.

I found myself on the main thoroughfare of the town when I noticed a crowd forming along both sides of the road. There was an excited energy about the people. I hung to the back of the forming crowds and wound through the shadows, staying out of sight. I was about to head inside and make myself scarce when I heard the people around me talking.

“It’s hunting day. That’ll be the Duke and his men coming down that hill” I heard a woman say to another woman.

I jerked my head up and looked up the road and felt my heart beat fast as I watched as a large gathering of men on horses slowly made their way down the main road. A pale-skinned man in a red robe was taking the lead on his own steed, looking proud as he waved to the people. His hair was dark, graying, and he wore a circlet. To his right was an even larger man with red-brown hair, a beard and dressed in armor. The men behind were also all armoured and their faces were concealed in helmets, except for three young riders that rode in the center of the guard. Each were young, tawny-skinned and bright eyed, more elfin in their features. And there in the middle, was the one with crimson curls and a strained smile on his face as he waved.

Altan. 

My Altan. 

My breath caught as I saw him there. He was there. He was there. He was right there.

Lordhovid was nothing compared to the want I felt then to jump in front of the horses and stall them from going any further. 

I gripped the vial and shouted his name before I could stop myself. 

He looked over in my direction, searching for who could have said his name. He drew his horse back and slowed, looking through the crowds. His smile fell when he saw me and over the din of the cheers and adulations from the crowds I could only see him mouth “Drun.” And I saw the same longing look in his eyes. We understood each other in that moment.

Our eyes did not stray from each other as the gathering passed on and even as he was going further and further from me, his head swiveled to keep me in his sight. He yelled something back at me, but I couldn’t hear or read his lips. I swam through the crowd, trying to keep him in my sight. I couldn’t let him go. 

“Altan!” I yelled again. Something in me, something I didn’t dare name, was pushing me to stay near him. I couldn’t lose him. 

I stood, devastated to watch him leave me. I pushed my way through the crowds and wrestled my way down the thoroughfare, doing everything in my power to keep him in my sights. I needed to know where he was going. I cut through alleyways to pass through the crowds. My orc hunting skills had never really left me and as I sniffed the air, I could follow the dust trail left behind by the horses and I cut through every back road I could until I could find them again at the bottom of the hill. 

Altan’s eyes met mine again and he shook his head. “Don’t.” 

He was warning me. I glanced over to the man at the front of the team and I saw steel in his eyes as he met my gaze. He turned back to Altan, then back at me. His gaze hardened and he urged the horses to go faster. His eyes followed me as they rode passed and I met his gaze with my own steely glare. He would not have my Altan.

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love, Pt. 4

Apologies for the delay! I was in the middle of moving when I started this series, but now I'm in my new place and all is well and I can start writing again. Please enjoy!

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9 Word Count: 2,724 (average 20 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

There was no reason to stay in town. I had to leave immediately

I had hoped that lordhovid would fade with time, and that by the end of the month things would be back to normal.

Things were only getting worse.

Finding Altan at the docks and having to stop him from getting hurt nearly ended all of my self control. He had been right there, in front of me, completely helpless, and there was something horribly viscous inside me that wanted to pull Altan into my arms and drag him all the way through the town and up the stairs into my private rooms where I would throw him into my sheets and lay claim to him. 

The fact I even considered such a thing was horrifying to me. I didn’t actually want that, did I?

The line between what I wanted and what my body was pushing me to do was becoming blurred and confusing. 

I had never - never - felt these sort of feelings before as a youth. Growing into adulthood without having ever felt even a remote desire to mate with anyone left me in a completely inexperienced space.

When I got back to my rooms from the docks, I threw the barrels onto the ground and gathered long, desperate breaths into my lungs. There was an uncomfortable tightness in my pants and I grew horrified as I realized that this was my body responding further to Altan. I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t know how to handle it. 

So I gritted through the pain and arousal and I got to work packing to leave. I needed to get out and find a way to stop this. I didn’t know of any other orc that had attempted to resist the mating instinct, but I had to hope that maybe there was something in our history that was orally passed down to my people. Surely there was something to prevent this from happening. Otherwise, my options were to either end my own life…or give in to these urgings. Neither sounded like a good option.

As I packed, every few moments I would need to stop, gather my breath, hold back the angry moans that were caught in the back of my throat and shudder through the flashes of heat that egged me on. But eventually I had finally retrieved my traveling gear and had packed for the first leg of my journey. I closed my forge behind me, my hands shaking from the restraint I was still holding. Gods, when would this tightness go away.

I did my best to lock away the part of my brain that was aware of Altan’s presence and instead focused on my steps as I fled from the town. I knew where to go, I just had to get there before it was too late to control myself. 

I whispered under my breath my well wishes for Altan. I sincerely hoped that he was handling things better than I. 

The smell of rich spring air, full of life and pollen and all things green filled my lungs. For the first time in days, I felt something hinting at calm, at focus. I could surrender to these sensations and take no risk in hurting myself or another. I breathed in the warm, richness of the fields around me. There was so much growing around me, each budding with seeds to produce new life for the next year.

I wondered if lordhovid had made my sense of smell more acute, because everything smelled sweeter, more succulent in its flavor. I took another deep, bracing breath and caught the whiff of wheat fields, warm and earthy. 

My mind immediately strayed to a vision in my head of Altan, running through those fields in a late evening, the sun casting dappled light on his skin during its final ascent. He was running ahead of me, his copper curls bouncing as he leapt and spun. He would look back at me and his smile was pure sunlight. His eyes would squeeze tight and his mouth would be open wide. He held nothing back as he begged me to keep up with him, his small hands reaching for mine. Glints of gold caught in his hair, in his eyes, in the golden hoops that flashed on his ears. Gods, he was beautiful in this vision. Pure and warm and rich with life and youth. 

I squeezed my eyes tight and forced the vision from my mind. There was no reason to think of those things. I suppressed it all away.

I passed few people on the road out of the little town I had called home for the last three years. I vowed to come back, to finish the work in my forge and let things go back to the way they were. I had once been an adventurer - a sword for hire technically - that had traveled across all parts of Faerun. It had been after I left home that I thought my only true use was to my brute strength. I had gained much experience from those years and the road before me was familiar to me. I knew where it led and I trusted my feet to get me there. 

The rest of me however, I didn’t dare trust until I got this stupid lordhovid business resolved.

I slept under the stars that night. I felt only a slight tickle on the back of my neck that told me I had left someone - Altan - behind in town. I knew that Altan had probably sensed my distance as well. But I savored this opportunity to finally sleep. To rest.

I dreamt that night of Altan. 

His hands were so small within mine, and they felt like polished marble as they brushed against my rough, callused skin. I felt a burn of shame as I realized my oafish, giant strength could never be as delicate as Altan’s. But he didn’t seem to be bothered by it. He looked up at me with those bright, friendly eyes and his lips spoke something - I couldn’t understand what - before his other hand took hold of my other hand and pulled me towards me and out into a realm made of starlight and moonbeams. He finally pulled my left hand to his waist, where I felt the subtle curve of his body fit perfectly into the crook of my hand, and then his hand was on my forearm and he was pulling me into a dance. There was no music, there was no sound at all, only a swaying, sweeping display as we each spun around one another. HIs eyes never strayed from mine and my heart was pounding fast inside me.

Even in my dreaming, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe Altan and I could have been friends - close friends - had things been different. His entire composure, his personality seemed so open and carefree. If I could believe this dream version of him to be the real Altan, he seemed so unafraid and unbothered by my appearance. I liked feeling so easily liked by him. I wanted to like him in return.

“Drunrag” He said, his voice that beautiful rich sound that reminded me of summer sunlight and cooling verdant rainforests. He stopped, and looked at me with what I could only understand to be adoration, admiration? “I wish this were real.” He said breathlessly. 

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t say I disagreed with him. I didn’t realize until then that we were together without feeling lordhovid pushing us together. There was nothing holding us here. It was so odd, and also nice. 

He looked up at me again, “I don’t know where you’re going Drunrag. I hope you’re not running away from me because I followed you to the docks. I’m so sorry for doing that, I just…I wanted to see you again. You’re so handsome and I…”

How was this dream Altan so aware of reality? I cocked my head and narrowed my eyes at him. “This is a dream…right?”

Altan’s own dreamy expression faltered and his smile faded, “Yes. I think? I’m asleep right now…dreaming of you.”

“Then how am I dreaming of you?” I asked. “I didn’t run away from you Altan. I-’

“Wait, wait.” Altan interrupted. “Drunrag? This is actually you? You and I are together right now in this dream?”

I hesitated before nodding, “I believe so.”

He let out a heavy, forced breath and broke his hands from mine, his cheeks were darkening. “You… um…please forget what I said…” He ran his hands through his hair before he released a breathless laugh. “So…is this another symptom of your mating instinct? Connecting through dreams?”

I shook my head, “I wasn’t aware of this.”

He nodded, “Right, so we’re the first to do something like this?”

I nodded, then bowed my head. “I’m sorry. I’m doing my best to stop this.”

He shook his head, his eyes softening as he met my eyes. “Look, Drunrag. None of this really makes sense to either of us. But I’m not mad at you. I don’t blame you.” He looked down at himself and backed up at me. “Actually, I think this is rather nice. Neither of us are affected here. I’ve been wanting to talk to you ever since we met and now we can.” 

“You have?”

He smiled wide, but his eyes darted away from me and he blinked furiously, “I-I mean, yes, I…you seem incredibly kind and I could use a…” he sighed. “It’s embarrassing to admit, but I don’t have friends. Not anymore, at least. I was new in town, and you were the first person who I really felt a connection with.”

“That connection isn’t rea-”

He interrupted again, “I know, I know. You think it’s lordhovid. I don’t.” His stare became more intense, more stubborn. “I’m fairly certain I can trust my own mind versus my body. And I trust myself to know that I can trust you. You’ve been able to hold yourself back from something others of your kind don’t resist. You’ve considered my own safety. I find you to be honourable, honest, and I could see you as my friend. But, obviously, how you feel could be different then I feel, and so, maybe I’m asserting myself too strongly and you’d prefer if I just left you completely alone until we get rid of this…thing between us so that we can return to our lives as normal and never see each other again.”

He talked so fast, I sometimes wondered if all humans were like this or if this was just him. I blinked at him, watching the way his eyes nervously searched up at mine for my answer.

“I…” I struggled to find the right words. “I’m flattered. And I…I don’t feel differently than you.”

“You don’t?” He asked, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

I shook my head, “You are…fascinating, and you’re also very kind to me.” I paused and gathered my thoughts that seemed to be scattering about in my brain. “You don’t seem afraid of me.”

He furrowed his brows. “Why would I be afraid of you?”

“Well.” I didn’t know how to begin. “I’m an orc…”

There was an awkward pause before Altan chuckled, “Oh, is that all? You being an orc has very little sway over me. I like people for who they are, not what they are.” He shrugged, “I’m not particularly liked where I’m from because my father took my mother as a consort instead of marrying and they called me all sorts of names about my elf traits.” His eyes lowered. “I mean, that’s probably not the same as what you’ve been through. Gods, that makes it sound like I’m assuming people are rude to you like it’s expected behavior. That’s not what I meant.”

I managed a smile, he was amusing to listen to as he struggled.

“All I mean is that I understand in some small way that alienated feeling, and my mother taught me that it wasn’t right.  It’s totally wrong and I’m not afraid of you. I’m more afraid of most humans, if I’m to be completely honest. Especially my father.”

“He’s not a good man?”

Altan shrugged, “He’s…complicated.”

He wasn’t making as steady eye contact with me and his hands were fidgeting, something about his father brought out his nerves. I shifted my feet, “I know that feeling well. I could do everything right, but my father wouldn’t see it, but he kept my family safe and he cared for my mothers and siblings. It’s hard to hate him for doing all that he knows.”

“You had more than one mother?” He asked.

I nodded, “Five.”

He cocked his head, “So that means your father had-” his cheeks turned dark and he cleared his throat, “he had five mates?”

I nodded, “lordhovid can happen multiple times for a male.”

“Because it ensures strong children.” He said.

I nodded. 

“And you’ve never felt this with anyone, not even once?”

I nodded, more slowly.

He looked like he was thinking, his eyes looking vacant and distant. “My mother once told me that we all feel love and attraction separately. We can be attracted to someone and not love them. And when we love someone, sometimes attraction has little influence over it. And it’s different for everyone. It sounds to me like lordhovid helps build attraction, but it doesn’t build love.”

I stared at him, in awe. He understood it completely. “Yes. That’s exactly right.”

“I believe you may be more of a romantic than the rest of your people.” He suggested, “I don’t think lordhovid has happened for you because you don’t have a chance to experience romance. You need more than just a physical attraction to be close to someone, which I can respect.” He reached for my hand, “I don’t think that makes you broken or wrong. Although I can’t explain why it would choose me now of all times. I can’t even bear children!” he laughed. “So, there’s a chance you’re maybe a little broken.”

I laughed in return. It really didn’t make much sense why my lust chose him of all people. None of it really made sense with what I understood. I looked down at him, and I wondered…was there something to him that I wasn’t able to see that maybe was pulling me to him.

I always noticed just how golden and radiant he was. Everything about him reminded me of the sun, light and warmth. The way his eyes seemed to gleam when he smiled, the way his coppery hair had glints of pale light as it moved. His skin looked warm to the touch, and looked smooth and like it would be velvet beneath my fingers. His voice, his energy was bright and full of vivacious life. I couldn’t look away from that light, and I couldn’t deny the beauty of him. 

Was this…attraction?

Without any symptoms pulling me to him, I could finally sit with and recognize that maybe there was something about him I appreciated. Was it possible lordhovid was giving me the one person I could love?

Except love had nothing to do with mating instincts, at least not where I was from. 

“Where are you going if you aren’t running away from me?” Altan had a wry smile on his face and he stood back, folding his arms.

“I’m going back to my people, to learn about lordhovid and maybe find some answers to help us.”

He nodded, “You aren’t interested in having a travel companion are you?”

I quirked a smile, “Bad idea.”

He shrugged, “Worth a shot. Do you think this will happen again?” He gestured to the space around us. “I’d like to see you again, like this.”

I looked around, our dream world didn’t have much detail except for faint light, similar to a soft morning dawn and a mistiness that left the space obscure and undefined. But Altan was in perfect clarity, standing in his princely apparel that left an ache that felt familiar to what I felt when I was awake. 

“I don’t know.” I hoped I’d see him again too, but I didn’t say it aloud.

“Be safe then, Drunrag, and let’s meet again as friends.” He said.

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 6

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2148 (average 16 min read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

Altan POV

It had been ten days since Drunrag left to find a way to stop lordhovid. I didn’t want to tell Drun and worry him, but I was becoming restless with him gone and things got progressively worse for me. The first few days he had left, I felt like I was able to stay composed rather well. I would visit the markets and spend my evenings in the tavern below my room, sometimes playing my lute which helped me to pay for the extra nights that I hadn’t planned on staying there. Some of the patrons would comment on my flushed composure, but I chalked it up to being new in town and unfamiliar with the warm temperature and that I was sensitive to the fire from the giant hearth in the tavern. But there eventually came a boiling point - for lack of a better word - where I would wake up with a flame inside me that was insatiable. There was nothing that could abate how utterly starved I was to be near Drun.

I spent the latter days in my room at the inn, the door locked. The bedsheets were on the floor because they were too much for me. I would try to read or play or write music, but I usually ended up lost in a heated daze, caught between daydreams of Drun and the fuzzy reality around me.

I still felt that hunger in our dreams, though thankfully not as strong. I would see him, see his beautiful austere visage all nervous and quiet. He looked like his skin was cool and I wanted to press my hand to his and let my burning flesh be cooled by his. But he would always hold back. He was so gods damned respectful of my space. And I honestly wish he wouldn’t be. I was dying to be touched by him. I wanted to know what his tusks would feel against my skin as he kissed my neck. Or how those rough hands would run coarsely against my waist. 

Gods, I was a mess.

I knew my father would strike me if he ever caught the sight of me during that time. I was overheated, over aroused, and desperate to be touched by a man - an orc no less. All of those things were unacceptable to him. 

He could honestly go fuck himself for all I cared.

Those nights, dreaming with Drun were the moments I held my breath for every night. I liked seeing the way his eyes struggled to meet mine, but when they did, he seemed to struggle looking away. I like how when I said his name, his eyes would also grow wide for just a few moments and his lips would twitch to a dazed smile. He was easy to please, incredibly shy and hard to get him to say more than a few words. But I loved asking him questions, I loved watching how deeply he thought about each question, taking his time and pondering. He reminded me of a tree sometimes. He was large like a tree trunk and tall, but he was deeply rooted and not in a hurry to rush to the next thought. Meanwhile I felt like I was nothing more than a squirrel that climbed up and down his limbs again and again and again at rapid speed. Every minute in his presence had my brain whirling at what to say next, to resist telling him how handsome he was to me, to not talk too fast and overwhelm him. 

I learned how patient and kind Drun was through those conversations, and it started to make a little more sense each night why this mating situation was so hard for him. For him, he really needed to think things over and really mull over his decisions. Lordhovid took away the chance to think about his choice from him and it really affected how he viewed his people’s culture. I could tell he struggled with the reality that his way of thinking was so different from his family, but I couldn’t help but admire his devotion to his own personal truths. 

I never pressed him on how he was doing in his journey. I dreaded to know if he was close to finding a way to stop lordhovid and there was secretly a hope that maybe all of these dream conversations would help him change his mind. 

So I didn’t expect it when one afternoon I was laying my head against the pane of glass in my room when suddenly I felt my body temperature reduce - like a fever had broken - and I lifted my head, sensing the clarity and focus I had lacked for so many weeks. Everything was suddenly in intense focus and I looked around my room - an absolute disaster - and realized that I was fine. I was…normal.

I didn’t know what my reaction was at that time. It was stuck between relief at finally being free and my muscles loose from their tension, but also stunned and sad. 

Drunrag did it. He had managed to rid himself - and me - of the mating instinct that kept us tied together. 

It also meant that Drunrag now had no reason to ever see me again. Nothing was pulling him to me like before. I realized that with a sense of dread and hopelessness. He was so determined to not sleep with me. So determined to be rid of our connection. 

Doubt crept in almost immediately - maybe Drun had only been nice to me because he could distract me while he removed lordhovid. Maybe he was only nice to me because I told him he was my first real friend and he felt bad for me. Maybe he won’t come back now that he’s rid of me. Maybe he hated how easy I was to be wanted by him, just like my father hates me for it. Should I wait for him? Do I tell him everything I felt for him?

I shut my eyes tight and willed the thoughts away. No, Drun would come back and we would be…friends.

I sat, stunned in my room. I looked around and groaned at the disaster I had lived in for the last week while Drun had been gone. The sheets, sweaty and crumpled on the floor, next to a pile of unwashed clothes. A pile of plates that needed to be returned to the tavern downstairs was sitting at the small table in the corner.

I sighed. There was nothing I could do about Drun right now. I uttered a small prayer to Alunis - the Sun God - that Drun would return to me safely and I got to my feet and set about getting my life back in order. I would wait for him, my Drun, to return to me. I had not planned to stay here as long as I had, but I would be careful. I promised not to do anything stupid while I waited.

I gathered the sheets and the clothes and with a few extra coins and a smile, I gave them to the innkeeper’s wife to wash. Her services were thorough and as she took my linens in a basket to a counter behind her, she looked me up and down and told me I was too thin and in need of a good bath. She shoved a plateful of food into my hands and sat me down. I felt her eyes watching me, making sure I took every bite before she lifted me by the collar and pushed me out the door with a token to the bathhouse to get myself cleaned up. 

I wandered the streets, still dazed. I wasn’t used to feeling so normal yet. For the past almost three weeks I had been in a state of feverish tension, and my muscles still felt the soreness of being caught in that state of tension for so long.

The bathhouse was quiet during the middle of the day and there were only a few other patrons there. I had never experienced a public bathhouse before. Having the father I did meant that I lived in constant privilege which included private baths. The man at the entrance took my token and guided me to a room to leave my clothes, before stepping out into a large room with a pool of hot, steaming water. I glanced around nervously, catching nobody’s gaze as I stepped into the steam-filled room naked and shivering. It was commonplace for these folk for everyone here to be nude, but I found myself unaccustomed to it and unsure where to keep my eyes.

Once in the water though, I felt my body relax and I breathed deeply, letting the steam fill my lungs with that wet, humid air. This was heavenly. I sighed and sunk my head into the water. My hair had been neglected these past few days and I apologized profusely in my head to the old woman who used to care for it for me.

I kept my eyes closed and I let the warm water wash away the sweat and the history of the last few days from my body. I reveled in being myself again, as much as it caused me angst to know what that would mean next. I stayed until my fingers and toes were wrinkled and I stepped out, dripping and wet and padded back into the room where my clothes sat. I reached for a clean towel from a pile and tousled my hair dry and padded myself off. My clothes were still not clean - but I suffered the experience of putting them back on with a promise that I would wear clean clothes as soon as I got back to my room. 

I turned to step out of the bathhouse when I bumped into a large, sturdy chest. I yelped and stepped back, blinking in alarm. 

I saw the red phoenix insignia on his chest before I saw his face and I felt my body go cold. 

No, I thought, my mind racing, they found me, they found me, they’re going to take me away from Drun. 

I shook my head, panic already settling into my bones. 

“Altan Hilmar, son of Archduke Taliesin Hilmar?” The man asked. His voice was low, unfeeling and commanding. He looked to be in his fifties, with a full beard and brown eyes that looked down at me as if I were nothing more than a petulant child. 

I shook my head again.

He didn’t react to my reluctance to answer, instead he continued, “You are to return to Berdusk where your father will enact the proper consequences for running away.”

“Please.” I breathed, “I can’t go back to him. I won’t go.”

“My orders are clear, young Hilmar, you will come with me to Berdusk.”

“Have you no mercy?” I pleaded. “I will not cause my father any dishonor, but please don’t make me leave. I have to stay here.”

“I am a patient man, Hilmar.” The man continued. “But I also will not tolerate bargaining. I only obey one master, and that is the honourable Duke Hilmar. Now, after you.” He gestured to the door, I looked out and saw that there were two other armoured men with the same insignia on their chests waiting for me. 

I couldn’t bow my head in defeat, I couldn’t cry. Not in front of these men. They all watched me closely, carefully. I’m sure they all saw me as some spoiled, rich son of the duke who ran away to be reckless and ungrateful. They probably saw me as weak and useless without any notable skill, but I would not let them see me shrink under their stares. My mother told me my strength was different. I raised my chin high and regarded the man before me. “I will need my belongings.” I said.

“They have already been collected from the inn you were staying at.” The man answered. “Now, move along. We’re taking you home.”

There were too many thoughts in my head as I walked between the line of guards that led me through the walking streets until we arrived upon the stable where a carriage was waiting. I looked down one road, knowing that it led to Drun’s forge. I felt a stutter in my heart as I realized that Drun would return to find me gone.

It was then I could no longer hold my head up strong. I had no way to tell him where I was going. That I wanted to stay. That I was so fond of him, and I admired him and was so grateful that he trusted me and that we were each other’s first friend.

I wish I could have told him that I was falling in love with him.

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 8

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 Word Count: 2606 (20 min avg read) Content Warnings: mention of mating, nothing happens....yet ;) All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil. Not beta-read. Criticism is welcome, but be sure to distinguish criticism from hate.

Altan POV

I was escorted immediately to the great hall where my father was waiting for me. The commander who found me, Commander Gaius Gideon, was walking briskly ahead and I struggled to keep up with his pace, especially since two pairs of hands had me on each shoulder. I glared at each armoured soldier. Trying to shrug them off was no use as they were much stronger than I. 

The walk to the Great Hall was long, humiliating and I tried to keep my eyes straight ahead to avoid the stares from those inside. Dignitaries and Ruling Officers of Berdusk idled as I passed. I caught from the corner of my eye the way they stared.

They had always stared. They had stared at my mother too. Alway remarking on her dark skin, her flaming hair. She was beautiful, but to them - she was exotic and foreign and something to ogle at. I knew why my father had always liked having her around. But it left a sour taste in my mouth. And now those stares were mine to deal with. 

My father was poring over a map spread out on a table, his back to me. His head, with dark hair, growing just past his shoulders was adorned with a bronze circlet. I rarely saw him without it. He was dressed in rich crimson robes, and I knew that the insignia of the phoenix was embroidered in gold on his chest. My father was guardian of the province of Berdusk and he oversaw all of the politics and commerce that happened within his province. I knew that he was well-liked by his equals and by most of the upper-class. I didn’t know what anyone in the general populace thought of him. And seeing how he didn’t want me around them, that was answer enough. 

I watched him from my place where the soldiers had stopped me and I waited - impatiently - for my father to look up and acknowledge me.

“Your Grace,” Commander Gideon said, standing at the bottom of the small set of stairs that would lead up to where my father was. He waited, straight and tall and austere. Commander Gideon had been a silent companion on my travel back to Berdusk and I wanted to respect him for his strict obedience to his creed, but gods he annoyed me too. 

There was no answer. 

“Your Grace.” Commander Gideon repeated. “Your son has been returned to you.”

My father’s only response was an inconvenienced hum. I felt the blood in my cheeks as the anger rose inside me. 

“The least you could do was acknowledge me after sending your men all the way out to the Sword Coast? Why bother spending all that manpower if you can’t even look at me?” I shouted.

I caught the flinch in his back, and I saw his hand tighten into a fist. I felt a lingering swell of pride at getting under his skin, but then felt the cold dread as he slowly raised his head and turned to look at me. 

“Take him to his rooms, Commander. I will summon him when I am able.” He was unwavering and I felt naked under his gaze. He found me disappointing, disgusting, and intolerable. He hated me as much as I hated him. 

“Why keep me if I’m no use to you?” I yelled, even as I was being dragged away. “What do you want from me?”

My father did not look away from me even as I was dragged from the Great Hall. I kicked and struggled, giving the men hell. I probably looked like such a fool. I was a grown man acting like a child. I knew that. But I hated this place. I hated the way everyone looked at me, I hated my father most of all. 

My room was just as I had left it three months ago. I was ungracefully tossed in and Commander Gideon spared a moment to give me a pitying stare before closing the door behind me and locking it. 

I wanted to pound against the door and scream to be let out, but instead I laid where I was left on the ground and breathed slowly. It felt like the only thing I could do at that moment. Everything had become so wrong. I kept thinking of Drun and wishing I could have seen him one last time, even if it was just to say goodbye.

I was still there when I heard the click of the lock being released and the door opening. I heard the soft, slow footsteps as someone walked towards me and stopped right above me. 

I blinked up and saw the looming gaze of my father. 

“You have forgotten your place here, Altan.” He said, his voice soft and level. I knew it was an act, just to get me to listen to him. “Get up.”

I felt like being a rebel and not listening to him, but being at the feet of my father and knowing I could not go any lower than this made me climb up to my feet and stare at him, level and even. The words of my mother echoed in me, “Your father is not one who knows how to love easily, he prefers to possess the things he wants, even if it causes him pain to do so.” 

I knew that to be true. He had wanted my mother the moment he saw her. Had promised her the world and tempted her with his honey words. She was promised so much by him, but ended up being nothing more than his consort, a bedwarmer and a trophy. She bore him the sons he so desired. I remembered the way he looked at me when I was young, so proud and delighted in teaching me how to hold a sword, chasing me around the gardens pretending to be a dragon that I was meant to slay. 

I remembered when things changed for the worse when he took me hunting. He had spoken to me of that day for so many years and I was eager to please him. He gave me his own bow from when he was a boy to shoot with. I remember my father’s hands were over mine as he drew the arrow back in my bow and the tears that escaped as I watched the arrow loose and sink into the chest of the boar. My father only comforted me until he realized that I would not shoot another creature again, nor eat their meat and then his disposition towards me changed. 

The more I followed in the ways of my mother - in gentleness and the arts - the more he grew to resent me and her. 

“What are you teaching him?” He yelled at her once. “Our son has no friends his own age, they say he is too strange. He won’t hunt. He won’t fight with swords. He’s an embarrassment. He plays with rabbits in the garden. He sings to the flowers to make them happy. Telmira, whatever you’re teaching him has to stop. He won’t be fit for running this province with such a backwards upbringing.”

“He is no less for being soft, Taliesin.” My mother had said, in her same soft, gentle voice. Oh how I missed her voice. 

My mother bore him two more sons, who were immediately taken from her arms and raised the way my father wanted them raised, her interactions with them far less frequent from my time with her. They grew to be more like him, more active, more driven, to strive for a level of excellence. I loved them for their spirit, but they were loved by my father even more.

But I was always my mother’s son, and my mother protected me as much as she could from the cruelty my father held in his gaze for me not being the son he wanted. 

When he found me kissing that boy - that stupid stablehand boy with the sandy hair and green eyes  - he wrenched me away and I remembered the stinging of his belt against my back as he called me filth, perverse and tainted. He blamed my mother for it all. Blamed my elven blood for how mixed up I had become. He struck my mother next, it was the first time he had ever struck her. One sharp slap across her flawless face and we all stood in the silence of that moment. Even my father looked stunned at what he did and he left without another word. 

I hated him from that day on. Not for what he did to me, but for what he did to my mother. He would never understand her and therefore never understand me. He never truly loved her, which meant I could never be the son he wanted, nor did I want to be. 

The memories faded from my mind as I returned to where I was then, staring at my father, seeing him aged and human before me. He was only human. Nothing impressive really. But I felt a fear for him like no other man. My life was in his hands, and I knew that he was capable of ruining it. 

“Duke Hilmar” I said, my voice level.

“You do not call me father.” He said. He did not seem surprised or even upset by it. 

“I do not see you as one.” I said. “Now that my mother is dead, you are nothing more to me than the man who has made my life a living Hell.”

“I can easily make it worse, son.” He warned. “Talmira is no longer here to protect you like she did before.”

“Why do you need me so badly?” I asked. “I had no intention of using your name, no one would have ever known where I was from. We could have pretended I died and we both would have been happy to be rid of each other. Why did you bring me back?”

He smirked at me, the deep lines in his forehead deepend. “You are still so young, Altan. I promised myself after your mother’s passing that I would right my wrongs. I would teach you better.”

“You needn’t be so generous with your time, your grace.” I said, my tone sarcastic. 

“You are my heir, Altan. I am honour bound to see that you are capable of upholding yourself as a righteous duke.”

“Why not give it to one of my brothers? They seem to be better suited for it.” I offered.

He shook his head, and he brought a hand to his forehead, pinching it. “Altan, it doesn’t work like that. I can’t just conveniently pretend you don’t exist for our convenience. You are my son. As much as you resent me, I will not shirk my duty to raise you as you should have been.” He took a step back and started to circle around my room, “Commander Gideon tells me you were found in a small fishing town on the Sword Coast. The innkeeper said you had been there for a number of weeks. What kept you there for so long? I certainly hope you did not do anything…unsavory while you were there.”

Like I would tell him, I thought. My mind strayed to Drunrag, and the number of nights I found myself whispering his name as I touched myself. Heat blossomed in my cheeks at the memory.  I turned my face away to hide it, but I knew my father wouldn’t miss it. 

“Who was he?” He asked, his tone became dark.

“I didn’t sleep with anyone.” I said, my voice quickening. “I swear.”

He stopped and studied me. “Your body is pure?” He asked.

I nodded, the heat in my cheeks was becoming unbearably hot. I hated the way he looked at me. 

He hummed and turned towards the door. “You will rest tonight, but tomorrow we will begin your private studies.” 

I scrubbed myself clean in my private baths after being manhandled so much since leaving the Sword Coast. I found an old pair of nightclothes to sleep in and I wished that I had the small comfort of seeing Drun in my dreams, but I knew already that he would not appear. 

I found myself swimming in the silken sheets of my bed, but they did not provide for me the comfort that they used to. I knew all of these small comforts came with the price of being my father’s prisoner. I was not truly free as long as I was under his watch. I would have gratefully taken Drun’s meager pile of blankets over this.

I was about to fall asleep, when I heard the door open once again and the padding of bare feet raced across the floor before two bodies crashed into the sheets around me. 

“You’re back!” My younger brother, Selhar, was starting to mature into a man. In the last three months since I had last seen him, his face had hardened and his body was tall and lithe. But he still grinned at me boyishly and had an arm around me.

Taliesin, my youngest brother, was still just a boy and the one my father loved the most. Selhar and I both were accustomed to calling him Robin, because for so long he was small and chirpy just like the bird. I still loved him too, despite his increasing tendency to think and act as my father did. I felt relief when I saw his own face and seeing delight. They both held me and expressed such excitement for my return. 

“Where all did you go?” Selhar asked, Robin crawled his way through the sheets until he was able to sit upright and listen closely. The two seemed eager to hear of my adventures away from home. Being away for them sounded exciting and thrilling, nothing like the fear of being chased down as it had been for me for so many weeks after I ran away. 

So I told them all of my stories. Of the places I saw, the people I met. I told them how I made money through my music at all of the taverns I stopped at and how I was able to work for my money. They had never heard of such a thing yet in their lives and the concept was foreign and bizarre. They were so sheltered here. I remembered a time I had been so sheltered. 

The two eventually snuggled under the sheets with me and the two of them were slumbering on either side of me. Such days were numbered, I knew, before my father would expect them both to grow up and be men. I hated the idea of their kindness leaving their eyes. I whispered stories that mother told me into their ears, wishing and willing them to remember everything she had taught them when she had the chance. Never forget the one who loved you most.

I couldn’t sleep then, caught between so many feelings. I was grateful to see my brothers, but I knew all of this came at the greatest cost. My freedom. My ability to choose for myself. 

To choose. Wasn’t that what Drun had wanted all along? I hummed, wishing I could have spoken to him one last time. I would have told him so many things had I known it would be the last time. But now all I wanted to tell him was that I understood him. I knew how important it was to be given a choice.

[oubliette-odette]

About Me

-27 yrs old, she/her -biromantic asexual -Gemini Sun, Libra Moon, Virgo Rising -INFP-T, 4w3 -currently studying software engineering (my second go-around of school because I was stupid) -my interests includes fantasy, adventure and whimsy in any form: video games, literature, dungeons and dragons, podcasts, anime/manga. -Also am deeply involved with kpop, BL, crocheting, renaissance faires, and making intensely specific mood playlists -Maybe I'll make a masterlist of all the fandoms I'm in someday. -my interests are fairly vanilla, but girl....i love a good monster romance. - I mainly use this blog as a place to shitpost, but I'm starting to use this blog more seriously to explore my writing.

My Stories

Reluctance of Love (orc x elf mm romance, on-going) Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

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