Orc Ch. 08

Gazing at her breasts the orc responded curtly in his own language. Surrounded, Misty realized how exposed she was and started to look for the shortest way back out of the crowd. Before she could make a move, though, the atmosphere changed and the orcs around her stiffened. She heard Enge's voice calling out and the orcs between the two women shuffled and parted creating an empty path between them. Misty's little scene with the other human had not gone unnoticed. Shit.

Enge looked Misty straight in the eye as she spoke at length in orcish. The women at the table were all looking at her too now and followed the increasingly familiar pattern of either being curious or disgusted. Misty was hit by a strong fight or flight reaction and had to take a deep breath to keep herself from bolting. There was a smug twinkle in the orc leader's eyes. Misty really wanted to know what she was saying.

"Hello, Misty," Enge suddenly called in kingish.

The human opened her mouth to reply when the crowd around her repeated the words in a broken chorus. Misty almost jumped out of her skin. A few of the orc women laughed, almost certainly at her and the human girl flushed in embarrassment. One of Enge's companions shouted something that made her laugh too, distracting her attention from the human. Around her, the men's focus was entirely on Misty. Almost before she knew what she was doing, the girl moved forward through the parting towards Enge and the table. The warmth of the fire behind her leant a reality to her actions and situation that she may have otherwise dismissed as a bizarre dream.

Enge did not notice her until Misty cleared her throat and asked, "How do you say 'hello'?"

The table went quiet and the leader's head snapped round so hard, the human would have not been shocked if it went spinning off. Misty gave her the most devious innocent smile she could muster. Enge's mouth popped open, then shut again as she struggled to formulate a response. She lost her chance when a dark skinned orc, the most beautiful Misty had yet seen, supplied her with a sly smile and a word.

The human nodded her thanks, turned back to the crowd and recited the orcish word in as loudly as she could without shouting. The gathered men were all staring at her; a multitude of expressions. She smiled back at them.

"How about, 'pleased to meet you'?" she inquired of her temporary ally.

By the time Misty had finished wrestling with the foreign tongue, Enge had recovered her wits. She sharply motioned a male to her side and hissed in his ear. He was on the shorter side and had pale brown skin with darker freckles and a harried look about him. He gave Misty a venomous look and, by Enge's command no doubt, dashed over to her and seized her elbow.

"Come with me," he demanded in her language.

As he dragged her away from the dinner, Misty shouted to the men in kingish, "I'll talk with you soon!"

Behind her, the collectively held breath broke forth into frenzied muttering. Enge's shrieking put an abrupt end to it. Misty felt a surge of satisfaction; where Enge had sought to belittle and objectify the human, she had managed to put herself forward as a willful individual. If the temporary orc leader had not been her enemy before, she was now. It was not the first time Misty had subverted authority and she hoped it would not be the last.

At the outskirts of the commons the speckled orc span her round to face him and rasped, "What is wrong with you, human? You are Enge's guest! You cannot insult her!"

Still smug, she did not rise to his aggression, "She introduced me. Isn't it good manners to say hello then?"

"Well... yes," his grip tightened, "No. No! She did not mean to-"

Misty snatched her arm away, "She meant to embarrass me."

The orc looked genuinely shocked, after a moment he muttered, "She is the Sibyl's second."

Getting the impression she was dealing with a loyal toady rather than someone truly malicious, Misty decided to go easy on him, "What's your name?"

"Taldereht."

"Ok, Taldereht, what now?"

"Now?" he frowned, "We wait for the choosing?"

The girl just nodded, his mistress must not have kept her man servant in the loop. They did not have to wait long as a clearly still aggravated Enge was yelling at the dinner staff as they hurriedly cleared away the table and its unfinished contents. Misty's stomach growled at the wastefulness. Some of the diners seemed annoyed by the discourteous ending of their meal, but if Enge had noticed she did not care.

She pointed into the crowd of men, selecting three of them. One of them, a stocky looking fellow, strutted proudly over to the Sibyl's second. The other two moved to her jerkily as if not entirely in control of their own bodies. It was disturbing to watch and Misty suddenly felt ill at the sight. The three men followed Enge as she stormed out of the small town's center. Taldereht who had been hopping from foot to foot as he watched Misty, likely expecting her to bolt, was now looking after his mistress longingly.

A portion of the tension in the air left, but not all as the remaining orc women began choosing partners of their own. A couple followed Enge's lead by taking three men, some took just one and a few none at all. Misty noticed the tall dark beautiful orc who had helped her, slip away from the rest of the group and head into a smaller alley where another figure joined her from out of the darkness. Had she kept a man for herself, apart from the choosing? They both disappeared into the night.

As the very important orcs finished picking their partners a larger group of women began emerging from the largest building adjacent to the fire. A few of them rushed towards the men and Misty was reminded of housewives jostling each other as they rushed to market. She felt sick again. Most of the women were more restrained, a few dozen at a guess, and the choosing began in earnest.

'Bizarre' was still the most apt word for what followed. Some females approached males directly, others gestured or called names. There were no rejections, only obedience. The men were mostly quiet, speaking only when spoken to. The majority went with the women without fuss, however some resembled puppets with their strings being pulled. A few women seemed authentically ashamed by what they were doing. Others found moments of happiness as genuine lovers reconnected.

"How do they do that?" Misty whispered to no one in revulsion and awe.

"Do what?" Taldereht asked, still beside her.

The human jumped, having forgotten her chaperone. She recovered quickly, gesturing at the gathering, "That. How do the women control the men? Why would they even have to? Why would they fucking want to?"

He regarded her, "You are human, you do not understand."

Misty gave a vulgar grunt, "I suppose I'm meant to mingle now. Are you coming with to translate?"

She was moving before he had a chance to reply. The girl was not sure if she wanted Taldereht to follow or not; he was harmless enough, but his sniveling fake superiority was grating. He did scurry to catch up to her and Misty slowed a little to let him.

After the 'choosing' Misty was even more reluctant than ever to barter her body for food. Yet, she had to eat. She did not wait until the orc women were finished, though they had moved fast and there were only a few left. Small groups of men were leaving too, the ritual having seemingly come to an unceremonious end. However, it soon became ominously clear that she had not been forgotten.

A smaller group of over a dozen orcs had gathered together and were making it obvious that their focus was on her. They were slightly off to one side and their black eyes glinted in the firelight. They did not beckon to her or otherwise communicate with her; they merely stared. Misty suddenly knew what a lone deer must feel whilst being stalked by wolves. Even Taldereht seemed wary of them. She did her best to ignore them and aimed for the scattering remnants of the main crowd.

"Um, hi. Does anyone have any food to share?" she hated begging, but it was better than the alternative.

A few orcs looked at her inquisitively and Misty gave her translator a nudge. He started, taking a moment to remember his job description, before rattling off what she hoped were her words in orcish. A few orcs gathered around them, one spoke up.

Taldereht translated, "He wants to know what you are offering in return for food?"

Misty gambled, "Good company and conversation."

To her relief, her reply did not elicit anger or a laugh, but quiet conversation. She hoped that meant she was being taken seriously.

Taldereht it seemed was not as he whispered to her, "What are you doing? You must not anger Enge further."

"So I should just strip naked and let myself get raped?" she growled, louder than she intended.

The translator actually flinched; he said, "The Sibyl's second said you are here for our pleasure."

Enough was enough, "I am here for nobody's pleasure but my own!"

Panicked, Taldereht stammered something in orcish and backed away from her. Well, she had done it now, again she supposed and she still did not regret it. The pack of wolves stirred and the girl was not so sure they would stare down as easily as the translator.

Reprieve came when another orc spoke in thickly accented but understandable kingish, "I accept your offer."

Misty looked for who had spoken and found a hunched and wrinkled man much shorter than the other orcs, but still taller than her. His bristled hair was split and white, and when he smiled at her she noticed he was missing teeth. She thought it safe to assume he was an elder.

She smiled back and offered her hand, "Pleased to meet you, and thank you."

He looked at her proffered hand in confusion for a moment, before his broken smile returned, "Oh! Handshake!" he took her hand and shook it, "Custom I had forgotten."

"My name's Misty if you hadn't caught it."

"Yes, Misty. Not deaf yet. I am Lemial. Please come. Sit with me."

With a limp, Lemial took Misty to sit cross legged by the fire. He sat them uncomfortably close, however she was not about to start complaining if the bag in his hands had food in it.

"So, Misty. Tell me about yourself," he said, handing her a handful of dried food strips.

She took his offerings gratefully and did as he requested; telling him of her home town and what life was like there. She even made herself a little nostalgic. The old orc listened attentively and asked incidental questions. The food was tough, hard to swallow and she could not tell if it was meat, vegetable or something else, but her belly's grumbles turned happy nonetheless.

Lemial had finished his strips and Misty was half way through grinding down hers when they were interrupted. A single orc approached them and spat into the fire, causing a sharp fizzle. She did not recognize him by face, but by demeanor she assumed he was one of the potential predators. He did not sit and only gave the girl a brief look, staring down her cleavage, before addressing Lemial.

The younger orc went on a brief tirade; snarling and gesturing, occasionally grasping his crotch. The older orc sat peacefully, letting the other finish before replying briefly. Whatever he said agitated the orc even more and Misty was again left in the dark about what was happening. Whatever the situation was, it escalated quickly when the young orc gestured the rest of his pack over and made a grab for Misty.

The human was mostly expecting it and batted away the hand with a, "Fuck off!"

"Watch your language," Lemial croaked at her.

Misty almost laughed, "Really?"

A handful of orcs formed a semicircle around her and her heart sank, for a little while she had really thought she might avoid this. She doubted she could count on the old man to help her now. She got up before any of them could try to make another snatch for her and looked the lead orc straight in the eye. If all she had was bluster, she would bluster the fuck out of them.

"Is this how you prove you're a man?" she snarled to keep the tremor from her voice, "You gang up on someone half your size to make yourself feel big?"

The orc glowered down at her and reached for her, she slapped him away again. Lemial was talking, she did not know if he was translating or saying something else. She wanted to scream and run, to get away and hide, but she would not. The old orc was saying something to her about how her aggressors were boasting and threatening her; that she should sit back down and ignore them. Misty grabbed the lead orc's testicles and twisted.

He let out a high pitch shriek and jumped away, she taunted after him, "Just what I thought; tiny."

In the best case scenario everyone would laugh and Misty would glean some respect. Worse would be the posse would storm off and force another confrontation at a later date. Worst would be they attack and beat her bloody before raping her. By the murderous look in the orc's eye, he had chosen her worst scenario. The human lifted her head high in a final defiance.

The orc was raising his fist to strike when a new voice speared through the tension. Roaji? The orc pack, including their leader, went dead still at the interruption. With painful hope in her heart she turned to find the savior. It was not Roaji. Instead a new pair of orcs stood a short distance away. One was shaking his head in subtle warning, he was the stockiest orc she had yet seen. The other was rolling his shoulders and neck in a much less subtle threat and grinning a great wide white grin.

It was two versus a dozen, yet the dozen quickly turned and walked away, leaving the commons as quickly as they could without running. None even turned to give rude gestures or dirty looks. When she looked back to her defenders, they too were leaving, though the grinning one stopped to give her a wink. Unanticipatedly she noticed that he was human, the white in his eyes giving him away. He had dark frizzy hair to match his skin. Kentin had told her that there were people with drastically different skin colors around the world, but she had never seen any before.

She started to follow them when Lemial bade her to stop, "What? Why?" she asked.

"If you speak with them now you would owe them a debt. By leaving they say you do not owe them."

"Oh. Well, ok," another new custom to learn.

"Are you alright, Misty? You should sit."

Noticing that she was shaking, she agreed sitting would be good. Was the danger finally past? Probably not, but she did not think she would be bothered again tonight at least. She hoped not anyway as she doubted she could weather more aggression.

"I apologize for my people," Lemial said, "you should be given more time to adjust to our ways before you serve."

Had she heard that right? "What? Serve how?"

"Do not make me say it. You saw there are many who are not chosen. There is much work to be found in soothing the needs of the body. It is unfair to ask an outsider to tend to them, but our women cannot."

"This whole 'choosing' thing is twisted," Misty grimaced, "Your women dominate the men? Is it through magic? Don't you think it's wrong?"

Lemial spoke softly and patronizingly, "Where you come from, do not the men have power over the women?"

"Not like this. Some of your men are being raped right now. How can anyone let that happen?"

"I know it is difficult for a human. Many things here are different."

"Don't you think it's messed up, though?" she was getting increasingly exasperated.

The old orc looked baffled, "It is how our god made it."

"Fuck your god! What do you think?"

Like blowing out a candle, Lemials good natured patience vanished. His face hardened and he stiffly raised himself back to his feet. She was reminded of her town's preacher, Kentins father and how his expression would darken whenever she was blasphemous; which had been frequently.

"Thank you for your company, Misty," he gave a brief nod then hobbled away.

The girl called after him, apologizing, however he did not return. Misty stared into the diminishing fire and finished her food pieces.

****

The night wore on and no one else approached Misty and she in turn left them be. At this point she was far too drained to be proactive. Though the fire was large, it was still gradually burning out and there was no sign of any fuel set aside for it. She hoped it would last as long as possible as it seemed increasingly likely she was going to have to sleep rough.

As the last stragglers of the once sizable crowd of orcs left the commons, Misty huddled closer to the fire. Had she not saved the life of one of their people? Was a little gratitude and hospitality too much to ask? Whatever she had expected when she came here, being forgotten was not a contingency she had planned for.

"Misty," Roaji said.

She flinched. Had he snuck up on her or was she not paying attention? It did not matter, it was Roaji. He offered her a hand which she accepted, allowing herself to be lifted to her feet. He still looked pale and haggard from the poison, yet his eyes were shiny and black again.

He smiled down at her and repeated, "Misty, thank you."

The girl buried her head in his chest to hide her tears. Suddenly all the bullshit and strife was worth it. She wanted to yell at him for not finding her sooner and for not adequately warning her about Enge and her ilk, but she dared not sully their moment. She let herself melt into his warm arms and breathe in his inebriating scent. Just his presence was enough to rekindle the primal need in her sex.

"Come," he said, taking her by the hand.

At that moment she would have followed him anywhere. She even intertwined their fingers as they walked; an act of possessive intimacy that would normally turn her stomach. The orc walked stiffly, showing signs of exertion even at a slow pace. She hoped the aftereffects of the poison were as short lived as possible.

"You're cured?" she asked.

Roaji nodded, "Most, yes," he strained himself in an attempt to walk faster.

"What's the hurry," the human asked a little nervously.

"Need safe at home."

Now she was more intrigued than nervous, "We're going back to your house? But you haven't even bought me a drink yet," the orc's laugh transitioned into a racking cough, "sorry," she said.

Away from the fire and with fog clouding the air it was acutely dark. Either orcs could see better at night or Roaji had trodden this path often enough that he did not steer her wrong and kept them from tripping on anything. They were stopped outside another unassuming mud bubble hut soon enough. There were no numbers or writing of the hovel as far as she could see and she was surprised when Roaji merely pushed the door open without any basic security.

In fact the door did not even have a keyhole or handle, when she commented on it he said, "Locks not for men."

More unequal privileges. Misty hoped Roaji was not as defensive about it as the others she had encountered thus far; she did not think he would be. The orc lit a single large candle that was attached to the wall. The inside of his home was just as lowly as the outside. There was a hard looking bed, a messy workbench without a chair and a small hole that was probably for defecating in. His requisitioned dwarf hole had been nicer.

She did not care. As soon as they were both inside she pulled him down, wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him harder than she had ever kissed anyone before. Roaji winced, but responded in kind, his hands running down her curves.

"We did it," Misty said.

"Yes."

"You're alive."

He smiled, "yes." the orc pulled away and wobbled over to the single bed upon which he sat down heavily, "most," he added.

Not willing to let even an inch separate her from the man, Misty carefully straddled him and resumed with the kissing. As soft as she had tried to be, he still let out a grunt of pain when she settled on him. As much as she wanted to be tearing off their clothes, she made herself slow down.