Kruk
The human festival was a sight.
Everywhere you looked were humans either fighting, fucking, dancing or eating and drinking themselves into a stupor.
I wasn't even sure what the festival was for, only that it was loud and smelly. Why humans couldn't understand the concepts of basic hygiene for their bodies and villages was beyond me.
The first time I'd ever stepped foot in a human village I'd seen a grown man shitting in the streets. He'd nodded and joked to the people passing him by until he was done and then he'd simply pulled up his trousers and went about his business. The man hadn't even cleaned himself before pulling up his pants and I'd found myself feeling sorry for his poor wife who had to clean his clothes.
Now, after years of visiting human villages, I was slightly used to it but still appalled at human behavior. I wasn't sure how some of my friends could stand to be near them for extended periods of time, let alone fuck them.
Which is what my brother Ozog had dragged me out of our inn to do.
"What about that one?" He asks, his voice jolly as he motions to a woman in a tight dress on the makeshift dance floor. "She looks like her cunt would be welcoming."
I watch the woman for a moment before my eyes go to her dance partner. His stature was smaller than most human men, but he holds himself with confidence, easily spinning the woman around in time to the music. The flickering torchlight made him appear almost ethereal, like he was more Faye than human.
Ozog bumps my shoulder, "you like her then? Go take her, that tiny human won't put up any fight."
I turn from them and back to the bar where my cup sits, "I don't want to fuck tonight."
"Kruk," Ozog groans. "You need to get over the little whore. It's been a month! Time to move on!"
"Do not call her that," I threaten. "She has a name and it's Amberlee."
"Yes, yes," Ozog says sarcastically. "Amberlee the Whore. The one whose cunt sucked you in and didn't release you until you'd run out of gold and common sense."
In truth he wasn't far off.
I had fallen for a whore, but I hadn't seen her as one. She'd approached me at a festival not much different than this one, asking for an escort on her night off. I'd been happy to oblige her, and we'd spent the entire evening talking and dancing and when the sun had come up, I'd walked her home.
A home that had happened to be a brothel.
She'd seemed almost nervous when she told me what it was that she did to make a living. She'd told me that it was just until she could afford to buy her freedom and then she'd asked me if I would escort her inside so that nobody would ask questions about where she'd been all night.
And of course I did.
It wasn't until much later, after I'd run out of gold and Ozog had to drag me from the brothel, that I realized it had all been an elaborate scheme. But by then I'd truly thought I'd found my mate, the one I was supposed to be with forever.
I'd even offered to take her away from the brothel, but she'd laughed at me and walked away.
The pity in my brother's eyes had hurt more than my aching heart and we hadn't spoken of it since. But I suppose Ozog thought it had been long enough.
"Look," he says almost gently, which was out of character for him. "You've always had a.. kind heart for an orc. Mother always said that it would get you in trouble."
"And she always said that yours would make so many bastards we'd have to get a second family tree," I remind him, unsure of where he was going with this.
"But," he continues, ignoring my words. "It's what makes you a good male. You care. Females like that in a mate and I know how badly you wanted that whore to be your mate. But she wasn't, Kruk. And if you want to find your true mate, then you need to put yourself back out there. Go dance, go fuck, but for gods sake stop feeling sorry for yourself." He pauses and then chuckles, "but perhaps not with that woman. It appears her partner will be sampling that cunt tonight."
I turn in time to see the pair disappear into an alley, the woman smiling seductively and the man following along with an unsure expression. When they disappear into the darkness of the alley, three more heavily armed men follow them.
Coincidence or not, something about the whole thing made me feel as if I'd swallowed a rock. Pushing away from the bar, I ignore Ozog and follow the humans down the rancid alley.
Thanks to my enhanced sight and hearing, I can follow far enough behind them to not be noticed but close enough to intervene if need be.
As we walk, I notice the man's posture becomes ridged, his head turning to look over his shoulder. He notices the men and puts an arm protectively around the woman as he walks a little faster.
The men notice and rush the couple. The smaller man pushes the woman aside and draws his sword, holding it protectively in front of him. The three men slow, eyes the weapon before laughing. The man is clearly confused and then suddenly he crumpled to the ground.
The woman stands behind him, a large bloody rock in her hands.
Fury blooms in my chest and I'm on them in seconds. They don't have time to react and I'm a blink, all three men are dead. The woman drops the rock before screaming and running away. I watch her go, briefly contemplating on whether or not I should hunt her down, but then decide against it when the man at my feet groans.
Crouching down, I pick the human man up, cradling him gently, his head red with blood and his scent hits me like a war hammer-
Honey and spice, a summer storm, lilac and rosemary, sword polish and leather.
All the scents that remind me of home.
Leaning down, I breathe him in again. And once more the scent of home floods my very soul. My arms tighten around him reflexively even though there was no danger anymore and I jump to my feet, the urge to take him far away from here invading and overpowering me.
Before I know it, I'm back at my inn, back in the safety of my room. Setting him on my bed, I grab a clean rag and start to clean the blood from his face.
He groans as I clean near his wound and I practically coo, "don't worry little mate, you are safe. I will protect you."