Page 40 of Lost to the Orcs

Am still frowning; for Ay donnae understan' her words. They are made strange. We do no’ play games. We are mates. Or close enough to. But if it weel make her happy… “If this is yer want. Youer my mate. My heart. Ay weel give ye anythin’ t’ bring ye t’ smile.”

“This will make me smile and so much more. It will make me feel at home.” She leans forward an' pulls me int' her arms. Ay feel love starved an' we lay t'gether. My delight in her enthusiasm. When we are finished, my seed spilling around me lodged inside her, she is smiling. Ay care no’ what she asks me. As long as she is happy. It is all that matters.

~~~~~

No' long af’er, Ay learned that it is no’ 'he only thing thatma’ers. Her smiles. Because they are no’ for me alone. 'he way she gave them only t' me, t’ my meiksya. My brother. She gives t' other Orcs. She has no' stayed in my furs in as many days as Ay have fingers. e'ery smirk an' sneer from those Ay would have called my brothers, my people, has broken me a little more e’ery setting o'he sun. Ay donnae know what t' do, Narod has mentioned looking int' creating a new town. In between other Human steads. T' mayhap help me get some air. He has lost his mate no’ that long back. An' he remembers 'he guilt, 'he pain. Ay have no’ lost her. She is still mine yet no’.

When Ay return, H’nash tells me o'he babe. My babe. He took root ‘fore any others. But when Ay asked him t' read 'he note left for me, Ay didnae know pain until that moment. No’ true pain.

“Jaedason,

It was fun. For what it’s worth. But you were so damn boring. Worshiping my e'ery footstep. Going about your Chieftain duties. Talking about your parents. About babies. As if I’d WANT your babies. Any of you Orcs. This was just for fun. When the doctor Orc said I was pregnant. I knew it was time to leave. Don’t bother coming for me. The moment I get to my family, I’m ridding myself of your spawn.

Goodbye.”

Ay wished t' leave 'he mountain. Narod, H’nash, my brothers, do no’ ask why. They see it in my eyes. 'he defeat. An' they confine me within ‘he mountain, instead o'Ov’Rjiias 'he season demands. Ay am watched. By all. But at 'he first opportunity Ay weel… Ay ken Ay donnae know what Ay weel do…

~~~~~

Moons pass an' Ay allow 'he flow o' my tribe t' bring me back. 'he need t' continue what we are, who we are. Ay’ve joined with my people on their return t'he mountains when a message from 'he scouts, from U’snar, has me running as fast as Ay can from ouer home by 'he seas, through 'he forests. Fear an' hope warring in my skin. It is too soon. How can it be so soon? She still had phases. Several phases ‘til she must birth. She was due when ‘he buds sprout from ‘he ground. No’ now.

Is so cold. So so cold. 'he snows are starting their fall from 'he sky. Much earlier than is their norm. Filling 'he land with white an' bitter cold.

Eight suns an' a half Ay travel. Eight suns an' a half o' trepidation filling my e'ery breath. When Ay meet with U’snar. He hands me 'he bundle, he’d been holdin’ within his shirt, against his beatin’ heart. 'he wee cold bundle. He fits perfect in my two hands. So cold. So tiny. So quiet. Utter fear an' devastation fills me. Ay’ve seen Orclings this small. They donnae make it 'he first days. He’slucky he’s made it this long.

“Ti’lask didnae make it.” U’snar’s voice is quiet. Full o' apology an' sorrow as he shows me a little wooden box. He’d named him. My—ouer son. A blessing. Twins. Desecrated.

“We weel lay him with Jaeda.” Ay murmur t' my brother.

Ay wrap 'he kit beneath 'he warmth o' my tunic. He whines an' roots. My heart breaks a little more. His mother should be here. His mother should be feedin’ him. Holdin’ him. Carin’ for him. He is so small.

That phase, we sneak int' a farm, an' take 'he milk o' a goat. Fillin’ ouer skeins. We weel go without as long as we can make his last days e'erything he could e'er want. We weel keep him fed an' warm. We weel keep him loved. He weel know love in ouer arms.

~~~~~

My brothers’ mate says he is beautiful. H’nash’s face is flat. Just as mine is pinched with pain. We donnae have hope. He reminds me; whate'er we ask, ouer tribe weel give for 'he kit.

‘he sun passes. We cuddle him. We feed him. A medicine woman bring us a “formula” they call it. For him. He likes it.

We tell him he is loved.

Another Solist an' more. Soon it is seven span o' Solist. Then three handful o'em. 'he phases passing by.

His cheeks fill. His stomach grows fat. With each passing sun, a small feeble glimmer o' hope shines within ouer chests. Slowly fixin’ 'he damage o' Sumira’s destruction.

~~~~~

“Have you named him?” H’nash’s mate asks, her belly round. She holds him an' feeds him 'he “formula”. It has been a season, Narod weel be coming back soon t' trade places with me in 'he mountain.

“Arawn. He fights wit strength o’ a bigger Orcling. Like his grandsire.”

“You named him after your father?” She asks with surprise.

Ay nod.

“That’s so sweet.” She smiles. Her golden hair glowing around her like glimmering gold. “Hello Arawn. My name is Vida.”

~~~~~

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