Page 69 of Her Orc Blacksmith

“I know you won’t,” I said, already feeling a strange pride for this girl I barely knew. “Now, come join us. There’s plenty of food left, and I’m sure you have questions.”

We all squeezed even closer around the makeshift table, making room for Lira as she hesitantly took a seat at the far end, visibly overwhelmed by the friendly chaos surrounding her.Grimble was quick to thrust a plate piled high with food in front of her, and Thyri offered a warm, welcoming smile, sliding a roll onto her plate.

“Eat up, lass,” Grimble said. “You’re gonna need your strength if you’re planning to keep up with this lot.”

The conversation flowed easily around the table. Lira slowly relaxed, joining in the conversation in small bursts, her eyes widening with awe as she listened to the stories being shared. She laughed shyly when Grimble teased Sylwen about his jewelry and even asked Thyri for the stew recipe when the topic shifted to food.

As the last rays of sunlight disappeared behind the trees, the table gradually quieted, the lively chatter fading into a contented hum. Plates were cleared, and the remnants of the meal were gathered with little effort from everyone. Lira’s face was flushed from the warmth of the fire and the good-natured teasing that had slowly drawn her out of her shell.

“Well, I’d say that’s a fine evening of food and company,” Grimble said, pushing back his chair with a satisfied grunt. “But this old dwarf needs his sleep.” He stretched, letting out a dramatic yawn. “Big day ahead tomorrow and all that.”

I glanced around the table, watching everyone stand, stretching tired muscles and gathering their things.

Thyri offered to walk Lira back into town, gently resting her hand on the younger woman’s shoulder. “You’ll be fine, love. We’ll chat on the way, give you a bit of advice on dealing with stubborn fathers.”

Lira gave me a hesitant smile before following Thyri's lead, her nervous energy still palpable but tempered by the camaraderie she’d experienced tonight. Mrs. Crumble had already waved goodnight to Elias and disappeared into the cool evening air with Sylwen, their voices carrying softly as they debated a finer point of spellcraft.

“See you at the crack of dawn, eh?” Grimble gathered his tools and gave a firm pat to the newly assembled beams overhead as the dwarves drifted off toward their encampment.

Elias, eyelids drooping, wandered over with a yawn. “Mama, is it bedtime?”

I smiled at his heavy-lidded expression, brushing a hand through his messy curls. “Yes, sweetheart. Go on inside. I’ll be right behind you.”

As Elias trudged sleepily toward the cottage, I turned to gather the last of the plates and utensils. The night had settled around us, a cool breeze brushing against my skin. Vorgath remained where he was, leaning against the edge of the table, his eyes following my movements.

“Let me,” Vorgath rumbled, pushing off the table. His large hands brushed against mine as he took the plates from me, sending a jolt of awareness up my arm.

“I can manage,” I said, though it sounded half-hearted even to my own ears.

Vorgath just gave me one of those unreadable looks as he turned toward the water bucket by the forge. The muscles in his back rippled beneath his tunic as he crouched down to start the rinsing.

When I didn’t move, he glanced back over his shoulder. “Go check on Elias,” he murmured. “I’ll finish up.”

I hesitated, torn between the maternal instinct to fuss over my sleepy son and the pull to just stay and… what? Gawk at my orc? Yes, that was exactly what I wanted to do, and it was far less productive.

With a reluctant sigh, I turned on my heel and made my way toward the cottage door, slipping inside quietly. Elias was already curled up on his bed, his eyes drooping as he watched me from under heavy lids. I knelt beside him, smoothing theblankets around his small frame, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Goodnight, my little prince,” I whispered.

“Mama…” His voice was thick with sleep, his hand reaching out to grasp mine. “Is Vorgath staying?”

I hesitated, my heart fluttering at the simple question. “Yes,” I said softly. “He’s going to help me finish cleaning up.”

Elias’s eyes fluttered closed. “Good,” he murmured. “I missed him.”

A warmth spread through my chest, unexpected but not unpleasant. “I missed him too,” I whispered to the slumbering boy, his breaths already evening as sleep claimed him.

Closing the door quietly behind me, I stood for a moment in the dim light of the cottage, letting the silence settle around me.

I missed him, too.

Taking a deep breath, I pushed away from the door and moved toward the main room, where I found Vorgath rinsing the last of the dishes in the basin. The entire scene had shifted. The glow of the firelight seemed warmer now, more intimate in the quiet stillness. He stood tall, the fire from the hearth casting shadows across his scarred, muscular frame. His movements were slow, methodical, the strong, capable hands that had wielded swords and hammers now washing plates and cups.

I paused in the doorway for far longer than I cared to admit, just watching him. There was something utterly captivating about seeing such a powerful man doing something so mundane.

He placed the last dish on the drying rack, his broad shoulders rolling slightly as he stood up straight. “Elias asleep?” he asked.

“Out like a candle.”

---