arms, beaming as if his face had been frozen that way.
“Welcome to your home,” he said, opening their new door slowly, with an unrehearsed theatrical flair. Aurelia kissed his cheek as she carefully came in behind him.
Due to carefully cast spells, the room was transformed into something more akin to a forest. Illusions enchanted the walls so they appeared, in touch, taste, and smell, to be covered with ivy. The floor was a carpet of smooth, short grass. As for a ceiling, there was none, not to the naked eye. Puffy clouds floated above on a gentle breeze. A single tree marked the center of the room, winding upward with branches positioned as steps. At the top was a cradle, thick and sturdy. Near the tree was a bed, covered with a great blanket of flowers. The entire room felt open, natural, and above all else, like a private home.
“Kind of bright for nighttime, don’t you think?” Harruq asked. In answer, Aurelia snapped her fingers twice. The blue sky turned purple, and a sparkling field of stars covered the ceiling. The soft breeze vanished, and in its absence came the constant drone of cicadas. Aullienna was fast asleep, so she failed to show her amazement. The half-orc grumbled.
“One day she’ll be old enough to know how neat that is,” he said.
“Shush, you’ll wake her.” Aurelia took her from his arms and glided up the tree-steps to the crib. She laid her inside and stroked her face.
“I never expected to have a child,” she said, cooing as she felt Harruq’s arms wrap around her. “Never expected any of this.”
“If you expected to marry a bumbling half-orc when you were a youngling, then something was wrong with you.”
Aurelia reached back, put a hand around her husband’s head, and pulled him close so she could kiss him.
“She looks elven,” she said when their lips parted. “Nearly full blood, even.”
“Guess we can be thankful for that,” he said. “It’ll help her be accepted. No shame in my orc blood, I just know her life will be easier without it showing.”
“It does show,” Aurelia said. “She’s bigger than most elven babes. She’ll grow tall, like her father.”
“Is she going to wield swords and beat people senseless, too?” he asked.
“Only if daddy wants to get his cute ass fireballed,” Aurelia said with a wink.
Harruq kissed from her neck to her ear.
“A tradeoff I’ll take any day,” he whispered. “Just to watch it drive you crazy.”
“Oh, but I am already there,” she said, running a hand down his face. “I married you, didn’t I?”
“That’s right, you did. Why’d you do that?”
“Because I love you, dimwit.”
He flipped her around and kissed her lips. “Don’t you forget it, either.”
“Never,” she said, smiling up at him. “Never in a million years.”
A fter waking three times to attend the crying child, Aurelia’s eyes didn’t even flutter when the half-orc slid off the bed. He crossed his arms as if cold, although a soft, phantasmal breeze blew from the walls, warm and comforting. Up the stairs he climbed, his steps surprisingly silent for his bulk. Aullienna was sound asleep on her back, her fat face turned away from him. He reached out to touch her. Halfway there, his hand froze, unable to move any closer.
“How many did we kill, Qurrah?” he asked, a lump in his throat. His voice was a raspy whisper among the cicadas. “You were wrong. This life is not suffering. We were wrong, brother. We did…”
His finger brushed her face. He recoiled as if touched by fire. His foot slipped on a stair. He went down, slamming his knee on the top step. A sharp intake of air marked his pain. Kneeling there, clutching his leg, he fought back the tears. The girl. He had seen the girl, the one clutching her stuffed doll in the village of Cornrows. Like an animal, he had butchered her, driven his blade through that pretty face and those blue eyes.
You’re an orc, aren’t you?
“We were wrong,” he whispered. He smashed his fist against his thigh. He remembered the mother who had held the child in her arms when he took their lives. All those questions he had wondered, they came thrashing back, for now he had the answers. They were a vile blade in his gut. Unable to hold back the tears, he sobbed there, a broken man.
When hands touched his back, he turned and snarled like the beast he felt he was. Before the sight of his wife, tired and worried, he could not remain such a thing. When she extended her arms, he accepted. In her embrace, he cried until his sorrow subdued.
“All will be fine,” she whispered to him.
“You don’t know,” he said to her.
“That changes nothing,” she said, kissing his forehead. “Come to bed. Whatever it is, it can wait until morning. I only have an hour before she needs fed, and I would like to sleep as much as I can until then.”
He nodded, stood erect, and did his best to smile.
“Alright, let’s go to bed.”
Harruq slept with his back pressed against her stomach, her arms wrapped under his arms and around his chest. The steady feel of her breath against his neck calmed many of his thoughts. Sleep came, coupled with nightmares. When light flooded the room from an illusionary sun rising at dawn, his eyes were bloodshot and heavy.
“Morning, love,” Aurelia said, kissing his back. “You should go. Haern will be waiting for you.”
Without a word he stood, dressed in his armor, and left to spar.
T he baby wake you often?” Haern asked, seeing the red in the half-orc’s eyes.
“Nah. Just didn’t sleep well.” Harruq drew his blades. “Let’s get this over with.”
Instead of attacking, the assassin frowned. “This is hardly the competitive spirit I prefer. Is something amiss?”
“Nothing is amiss. I just need some damn sleep, now either swing a blade at me or let me go back to bed.”
The half-orc tensed, ready for a lunge, but instead Haern sheathed his swords.
“Get out of here.”
Harruq stepped out of his combat stance. “What?”
“You heard me. Get out of here. My training is a privilege. My apologies for your lack of sleep, but you and I have suffered far worse. It is your attitude that has soured.”
“Nothing’s wrong with my attitude.”
Haern crossed his arms. “You were a beacon of happiness yesterday. Do you fear being a father?”
“I don’t fear anything,” Harruq snarled. “Say stuff like that again, and you’ll find yourself fighting, and the cuts won’t be fake.”
Haern turned his back to the half-orc and walked back to the tower. Harruq watched him go, emotions swirling in his stomach, until he violently sheathed his blades and stormed off into the woods.
A urelia found him several hours later, sitting beside a stream that ran through the forest not too far from the tower. Unknown to Harruq, it was the same spot Qurrah and Tessanna had made love before Karnryk and his thugs had arrived. Sitting on a log, he stared at the moving stream, tossing in stone after stone.
“What is wrong?” Aurelia asked as she neared. “Haern told me about this morning.”
“I don’t deserve her,” he said.
“And you don’t deserve me either, but you have both.”
Harruq glanced back at her, chuckled, and then threw another stone.
“Cute. But you’re right. I don’t. I’ve done… Aurry, she’s just a child. A helpless child.” He dropped a handful of rocks and ran his fingers through his hair. “Just helpless,” he mumbled.
“Harruq, I don’t understand. Please, tell me what’s wrong. You’re my husband. Nothing you have done will change how I feel about you.”
“I’m sure you think that,” he said. “You might even believe it. But you’re wrong.”
Aurelia knelt in front of him, her eyes strong as iron. She put her hands on his face and forced him to look at her.
“Don’t do this tortured-hero nonsense. And don’t you dare assume you know how I feel about you. I love you, unquestioningly and unconditionally. You cheapen us both when you spew such filth. Now tell me what damns you,
