“I wonder how he died,” she said, glancing back to Qurrah. “I hope it was lengthy.”
Qurrah entered, hands sweating and his stomach still churning. He chastised himself for his weakness. It was just a dead body, after all. Never mind the horrific expression on the man’s face, or the expelled blood and glass. He blamed his reaction on the smell. The air was remarkably stagnant, preserving the body in all its gory detail.
“If we are to live here, we’ll need to greatly improve the natural aroma,” he said, holding a side of his hood over his mouth. Tessanna looked at him, her eyes blank.
“Of course. Did you presume us to leave the body here?”
Qurrah shook his head. “Never mind what I presumed. Help me dispose of your father.”
Using Tessanna’s dagger, they cut the ropes. His body slumped forward, his head falling between his knees as if he were to vomit. The girl took a rope, wrapped it around his neck, and dragged him out of the chair. She showed no sign of emotion as she pulled the body across the floor. She acted as if she were removing a chamber pot. Qurrah propped open the door, took the sheets from the bed and wrapped them around the chair. He carried it around back, planning to toss it to ruin in some far away brush. He stopped, though, for Tessanna was already there.
The grotesque body sat propped against a tree. Tessanna knelt opposite it. She was staring, not blinking, not moving. Qurrah put down the chair and approached.
“Tess?”
“I never said goodbye,” she said. “I wonder why I never said goodbye. It never bothered me until now.” In perfect contrast to her words, her voice lacked any of emotion.
“He didn’t deserve any comfort or sympathy. You knew that, then. You have forgotten it, now.”
The girl shrugged. “Perhaps you’re right. He didn’t deserve it. He didn’t deserve me. He didn’t deserve my hugs. My kisses. Me.”
Still no emotion. Qurrah placed a hand on her shoulder. She jerked her head around and saw him, and then the tears started to flow.
“Oh, Qurrah,” she said. She sniffed. “Want to do me a favor?”
“Anything, my love,” he said.
“Fuck me.”
She pulled him down to her, assaulting him with her kiss. They made love in the dirt while the corpse of her father watched.
H arruq paced outside their door, Aurelia’s ring in hand. Two opposing thoughts clashed in his mind. When he came to a decision, he knocked his large knuckles against the door.
“Who is it?” he heard a female voice ask.
“Just open it, Delysia,” said another.
The door cracked open, and Delysia looked out, smirking at the half-orc.
“Care to join me in my prayers?” she asked.
“Ha, ha. Can I talk to Aurry, please?”
“Sure thing, cutie. Aurelia, your suitor is here.”
She danced past him, grinning at the fierce blush in Harruq’s neck. He pushed open the door, stepped in, and crossed his arms. Aurelia lay on her bed, her hair braided into a long ponytail.
“Yes, Harruq?” she asked.
In answer, he walked over, opened her hand, and shoved her ring onto her palm before he lost his nerve.
“What are you doing?” she asked, staring down at the ring.
“I know what you want me to do with it,” he said. “I can’t. Ever.”
She clenched her fist and met his steeled resolve. “Why is that?”
“You know why,” he said.
“No, I don’t. Why?”
“Because it can’t work!” he shouted. Aurelia flinched, and the sight stung him deeply.
“Why, Harruq?” she asked, quieter. “Why can it not work?”
“I’m an orc. You’re an elf. It’s never happened.”
The elf stood, shaking. She slapped him with her empty hand.
“You think me foolish?” she asked, not giving him a chance to speak. “You think I haven’t thought of that? I have abandoned my forest, abandoned my home, and made enemies of my friends, all to be at your side. Just because you fear and loathe the blood in your veins doesn’t mean I feel the same.”
“That’s not, I don’t think you…damn it Aurry, you think this is how I want it to be?”
“What is it you want then?”
“I want you,” he screamed, his face glowing red. “I want you at my side for the rest of my life. And I want to stop being so damn scared to admit it!”
They stared at each other, anger and confusion pulsing through their hearts.
“Say you love me,” she said.
“I love you,” he said.
“Fine.” Her voice quivered, a knife’s edge from breaking. “Then take this ring back. If you want to be with me forever, then to the abyss with what anyone else might think. There may be orcish blood in you, but never would I wish it gone.”
She extended her hand, the ring laying in her open palm. Harruq stared at it, both fearing and yearning for it. Rejecting her was a kindness, a blessing, a noble act from an ignoble man. How could he be so wrong?
He took the ring from her hand.
“I’m sorry,” he said, putting it into his pocket. “I’ll be going now.”
“Wait.”
She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. At first, he was unresponsive, but as his shock faded, his arms circled her waist, holding her close. When the kiss ended, she pressed her forehead against his chest.
“I’ve given so much,” she whispered. “But I’ll give more.”
He hugged her tight at this. “I don’t deserve it.”
“And that doesn’t matter, dummy. You can spend the rest of your life trying to earn it, if you want.”
“That sounds like a plan,” he said.
Aurelia slipped from his arms and smiled at him.
“Good. I’ll be in the rain room. Don’t take forever to decide. I may be an elf, but I still don’t live that long.”
Together they left, only to find Delysia waiting outside their door.
“Lover’s squabble?” she asked.
“Nosy little priestess,” Aurelia said, poking her side. “I should turn you into a gnat.”
“Well, looks like the fights over. If you want to continue kissing and making up, I’ll stay out a little longer.”
Aurelia only winked, abandoning Harruq and his brightly flushed face as she skipped down the stairs.
“No, uh, it’s fine, we don’t need the room,” he said.
Delysia giggled. Having nothing else to say, the half-orc fled up the stairs.
“Those two need to get married,” she laughed to herself.
T wo weeks later, Harruq awoke to the soft rustle of cloth against floor. His room was dark, and the sun still in hiding. A quick glance around his room showed no visitors, but he knew better. Haern lurked nearby, testing him. He shifted his head, still searching. Nothing. Again, he heard a soft rustle, and he spun, thinking it directly behind him. He found only wall.
He glanced up. Nothing there, either. Slowly, Harruq reached down next to his bed and grabbed his swords. He gripped Salvation by the handle and drew it free. Bare-chested and dressed in an old pair of brown pants, he scanned his room. Through the small window, he could still see faint stars. In the dim light, nothing seemed out of place.
“Maybe he’s not here,” he mumbled to himself. Grumbling, he put a foot down to get his chamber pot. When the cold touch of steel pressed against his calf, his entire body jerked in fright.
“It would be difficult to fight without a foot,” he heard Haern whisper from underneath his bed.
“You scared the piss out of me,” Harruq said to him. “Well, nearly. Care to give me a bit of privacy here?
