Page 9 of Orc's Little Human
"It's complicated."
"No, it's not." She crosses her arms over her chest, a gesture that transforms her from child to miniature warrior in the span of a heartbeat. "You like her. She needs help. Help her."
The simplicity of it almost makes me laugh—would, if the situation weren't so completely fucked beyond repair. In Thali's world, attraction equals action, need demands response. She hasn't learned yet that desire can be poison, that showing weakness invites death.
But maybe she has a point about the immediate problem. Keeping Selene locked away without basic necessities serves no purpose except demonstrating my complete inability to plan beyond the next impulse. If I'm going to protect her, I need to do it properly.
"Fine." The word scrapes out of my throat like ground glass. "She doesn't have to stay locked up. But—" I hold up a hand before Thali can explode into celebration, "—she's your responsibility. You watch her, you keep her safe, you make sure she doesn't try to escape. Can you handle that?"
The grin that splits her face could outshine the morning sun, pure joy radiating from every inch of her small frame. For a moment, she looks exactly like she did at only a year old, before the weight of our father's death settled onto shoulders too young to bear it.
"I can handle it. I promise, Korrath. I'll take good care of her."
The earnest sincerity in her voice makes my chest tighten with emotions I can't afford to examine too closely. This is what I've been trying to protect—not just Thali's life, but her capacity for happiness in a world that specializes in crushing hope. Shegets lonely here among warriors who measure worth in scars and strength, surrounded by adults who've forgotten how to laugh without cruelty.
Maybe having Selene around will help with that loneliness. Maybe they'll find some common ground in being strong females in a place built for violence. Maybe I'm grasping at justifications because I can't bear the thought of locking either of them away.
"Good." I force authority back into my voice, even as guilt gnaws at my ribs like hungry wolves. "But Thali—if anything happens, if she tries to run or hurt someone or cause trouble, you come find me immediately. Understood?"
"Understood." She bounces on her toes, already reaching for that mysterious key again. "Can I go get her now? She must be starving."
The eagerness in her voice reminds me exactly why this arrangement terrifies me. Thali doesn't see enemies or threats—she sees potential friends, kindred spirits, someone who might fill the hollow spaces that clan life leaves in a child's heart. She's going to get attached, and when this inevitably goes wrong, it'll shatter something precious I've spent years trying to preserve.
But the alternative is worse. Leaving Selene locked away like a forgotten trophy serves no one, protects nothing, accomplishes less than nothing. At least this way, I can pretend I'm showing mercy instead of weakness.
"Go ahead." I step aside, gesture toward the door that's become the center of my personal hell. "But feed her first. And find her proper clothes—something that fits."
Thali nods eagerly. "I'm going to like her, I think."
That's what I'm afraid of.
But I keep the thought to myself, watching my sister disappear into the room with the kind of fearless enthusiasm that both defines and terrifies me. Through the open doorway,I catch a glimpse of copper hair and pale skin, hear the soft murmur of voices as two females who shouldn't have anything in common find each other across the divide of species and circumstance.
I should walk away. Let Thali handle whatever comes next, focus on the clan responsibilities that actually matter for our survival. Instead, I find myself frozen in place, listening to the sound of my sister's laughter filtering through stone walls.
It's been too long since I heard her laugh like that—pure and uncomplicated, free from the shadows that have haunted us both since the day our father died screaming.
5
SELENE
The first thing Thali brings me this morning is water.
Not the murky, questionable liquid I expected from an orc encampment, but clean water in a wooden cup carved with intricate patterns. She sets it on the fur-covered ground beside me with ceremonial care, like she's performing some sacred ritual.
"You must be thirsty." Her amber-gold eyes study my face with unsettling intensity. "You can trust me and Korrath. I promise."
Korrath.The name sends an unwelcome shiver down my spine, memories of molten gold eyes and scarred tusks flooding back despite my efforts to push them away. I haven't seen him since he locked me in this room, and I spent all night wondering when he'll return to claim whatever prize he thinks I represent.
"Thank you." The words scrape out of my throat, rough from disuse and dehydration. I take the cup with hands that shake slightly, pride warring with desperation. Pride loses. The water tastes like salvation.
Thali settles cross-legged on the furs across from me, wild black hair adorned with feathers and bone charms that clicksoftly when she moves. She's smaller than I initially thought, all knobby knees and sharp elbows beneath her patchwork tunic. Young enough that her tusks are barely beginning to push through, just tiny ivory points that catch the light from the oil lamp.
"Are you hungry? I brought bread and dried taura meat. Oh, and some fialon berries I found yesterday." She produces items from hidden pockets with the enthusiasm of a child showing off treasures. "The berries are really good—sweet, not tart like when they're green."
The casual generosity confuses me more than outright cruelty would. I understand violence, manipulation, the calculated kindness that comes with expectations attached. But this feels different. Genuine. Like she actually cares whether I starve.
"Why are you helping me?"
