Page 44 of Shared By Two Orcs

“It was fine, I got another walk out in the forest.”

“That seems so peaceful… It’s not quite the same down in the mines.”

“Well then perhaps you should join me one day.”

“I’d love to, but I doubt the others would survive long if I were to abandon my post,” Yamarz says with a half-smile. I roll my eyes, laughing.

“It’s a wonder your ego fits in your body,” I retort. “What is it you think they’ll miss most? The glowering, or the barking of orders?”

Yamrz puffs his chest up, giving me a falsely haughty look. “I think you’d find the glowering and the ordering are extremely effective tools to get things done.”

I bark a laugh, shaking my head as Yamarz grins back at me. We pass other orcs on the way back to my house as we talk, and I don’t think either of us miss the looks we continue to get. Some of the orcs glance at us quizzically, doing double-takes in confusion when they see us laughing and talking, while others look on in disdain and reproach.

I was never a very popular orc, unlike Yamarz. A part of me wonders if it bothers him, consorting with someone who everyone else so clearly thinks is beneath him, but I shove that thought down. Yamarz isn’t a subtle male– if it bothered him, he’d do something about it.

It used to bother me more, the looks we get when we’re seen spending time together both with and without Willo, but now, I’m just happy to have somewhere to belong. Despite all of our differences, I feel like Yamarz just gets me– being a male orc comes with a lot of stipulations and perceived requirements, and I never fit in with any of those well.

Even Yamarz, who was always the picture of what an orc should be from the outside, seems to feel the pressures of these expectations. Now that I’ve gotten to know him better, I know that I’m right. Yamarz was just better at acting than I was, but neither of us really subscribe to the more traditional ideals of what an orc “should” be, and we always felt alone because of it.

Mentally, I make a note to myself to thank Willo later. She’s done more for me than I think even she realizes. Her presence in my life has filled a hole I didn’t know was there, and with her, came this brotherhood with Yamarz. For the first time in my life, I feel seen and accepted.

By the time I break out of my reverie, my little home is already in sight, hardly a block away. I sneak a glance at Yamarz, feeling a bit sheepish at having gotten lost in my own head, but it doesn’t seem like the male has really noticed. As always, his eyes are scanning the clan and the buildings around us, perpetually assessing the area for threats.

“You know, you’re allowed to relax sometimes,” I rib at him as we start up the walkway to my front door. Yamarz only grunts in response, following me inside as I swing open the front door. Yamarz shuts the door behind us as I head into the kitchen, grabbing a couple mugs and the bottle of ale I have stashed in the cabinet.

As I pour the ale into the mugs and head into my humble living room, Yamarz is sitting on the couch, staring pensively at the ground. I nudge his boot with mine, drawing his eyes up to the mug of ale I’ve extended for him. Yamarz takes it wordlessly, and I arch an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?”

Yamarz only blinks at me, seeming confused by my question, and I bite back a sigh.

“You’ve never been a talkative bastard, but this level of silence is new even for you. What’s going on?”

Stubborn male that he is, Yamarz grumbles under his breath before settling back into the couch and heaving a sigh. I take a sip of my ale, letting the bitter taste wash over my tongue as I wait for him to put his thoughts together.

“Does it ever worry you? This… thing, we have going on with Willo?”

My brows pull together as I stare at him, trying to put together his meaning. Yamarz must read the confusion on my face, because he heaves another sigh, washing it down with a swish of ale before speaking again.

“It’s not that I care what the rest of them think, because I don’t. She makes me happy, and she makes you happy, and she’s happiest when she has both of us. That’s all fine and good. I just… after so long in this life, with all of these rules and ideas that’ve been pounded into our heads… do you think she even knows what she’s signing up for?”

Realization dawns, and with it, a pit forms in my stomach.

“You’re worried she’s made herself a target,” I say, more of a statement than a question. Yamarz gives me a curt nod, tipping his mug back once again. I mull it over in my head, unable to help the small thread of panic that lights in me at the idea of Willo being in danger, but dismantling it quickly.

“I think,” I say slowly, “That if anyone has anything to say to her, or tries to do anything in retaliation of our relationship, then they’ll have a time trying. She’s probably the best protected female there is, between the two of us.”

Yamarz scoffs, but a smile plays on his lips. “Now whose ego is too big for their body?”

I laugh, rolling my eyes. “You can jest all you want, but it’s the truth. She’s going to be fine, Yamarz. We’ll make sure of it.”

Yamarz nods thoughtfully, and a sense of pride swells in me. I’ve never been much of a leader, not like he’s proven himself to be, and yet here I am, helping him work through this strange thing between the three of us. As a friend, as a clansman, and as a male who knows more precisely than anyone exactly what he wants to protect so badly.

At that moment, my door opens. In steps Willo, carrying a big pot of food.

“Duma! I’m here! I brought some of that bahru you like.”

Without looking at us, she trots over to the kitchen and places it on the counter. Yamarz and I share a glance, grins curling on both of our faces, that shared look confirming to me that we’re on exactly the same page as to how we’d like to spend the rest of our afternoon. Only when Willo turns around does she see us.

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