#larek

Grigor twisted his dagger’s blade further into the other man’s back. Flesh and fabric rending sickeningly, drowning out the patter of the rain. In a snarling uproar, Larek spun and grasped Grigor’s vest. 

“Larek!” Bellona shrieked, her arms clamping around the man’s middle. She tried to be careful of the blade still lodged into his back, but the heat of blood against her chest and the scent made her stomach clench. “Just let him go!”

Horror flickered over Grigor as Larek growled, low and inhuman. “Only cowards strike an opponent’s back!”

Far below them, the fires of the villagers’ torches flickered in the rain. Bellona could make out the crowd in the haze as she clung to Larek, half leaning over the balcony rail herself. All the townspeople’s faces upturned to the sky, trying to spot their hero and their villain. See who would overcome the other. Though, how they saw anything was beyond Bellona.

Cutting through the rain and distance, the town clock clanged. Midnight had arrived.

A scream rent through the air as Grigor plummeted from the balcony, being shoved away by Larek. He tumbled, heels over head, through the dark air. A fleshy thud sounded as his body slammed onto a lower roof, momentarily caught. His fingers scrabbled on the slick tiles, unable to catch purchase before his body continued to slide off.

Larek glared after the falling man, adding further insult to injury as he spat a bloody lob after Grigor. 

“Please, get over here,” Bellona whimpered, her fingers trembling as she held onto his middle. Surely, he’d feel the way her body trembled against his back.

Moments later, the two found themselves in a heap on the balcony. Bellona panting from fear and Larek breathing heavy, blood oozing from his wound. He reached behind his back, grasping the handle and wrenching it free wrench free, growling something about not having a coward’s blade inside him. The sound of metal pulled from flesh made her stomach lurch. More blood gushed from the wound, pooling on the stone beneath them. 

“You shouldn’t have done that! You’ll bleed out!” Bellona shot forward, hands moving around him to cover his wound. As the warm liquid squelched between her fingers, tears burned at the back of her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” Larek answered, grasping her by the wrists and bringing her bloodied palms to his mouth. 

The threat of tears burned more intensely as he kissed her hands, smearing blood over his face. It felt as if the world lurched under her, yet again. Frustration pitched her voice high and angry, “It does matter! You matter!”

“You came back.” He ignored her hysteria, pressing his cheek into her palm. 

“So?!” Bellona shrieked, her fingers trembling at his tender touches. The softened look in his eyes made her heart somersault in her chest.

“Seeing you once more is all I wanted,” he breathed, eyes fluttering closed. “I may die by this enchantment, but-” 

“What are you talking about?” She tried not to notice how shallow his breathing had become or how lax his hold on her wrists grew.

“It’s too late, Bellona.” His voice had grown soft and ragged. The gurgle of liquid tinged his every labored breath. Had she ignored that, too? “Midnight has struck and with it, the last petal of the rose falls.” 

“You’re delirious. We need to get you help!” She tried to wrench her hands free, but even in his weakened state, Larek held firm. Tears threatened to crest her eyelashes. Desperately, she tried to convince herself he only felt so cold and clammy due to the rain and not the copious amount of red blooming beneath them.

Larek cracked his eyes open, catching Bellona with his yellow gaze. His lips tilted into a crooked, albeit tired, grin. “No, I’m in love.” 

Her eyes widened as lightning crashed and thunder rolled overhead. In one instant, he sat before her, holding her wrists in a limp grasp. In the next, his body crumpled to his side on the stone and her hands hovered in the air, bereft of his touch but frozen in place. Bellona’s lips trembled, the realization trying to sink through the shock.

“You asshole! Why would you- Why did you-” Anger and confusion swarmed Bellona’s thoughts, making it hard to piece together a full sentence. She collapsed atop Larek’s chest, tears streaking down her cheeks with the rain. Her hands tangled into his shirt as she sobbed, shoulders shaking.

As she mourned, memories of the last few months flooded her brain, simmering with despair.

---

At first, not only did he seem cruel, but he was strange. From the very moment he stepped from the shadows - after threatening to keep her father imprisoned in a tower for the rest of his life - he expounded how he was an ugly, wretched creature. 

A creature with whom she now resided, after taking her father’s place. Though calling him a creature seemed a bit excessive. 

Other than his attitude, Larek was no worse than any of the other men she’d seen in the village. Rather tall and well-built, with chestnut brown hair hanging to his shoulders and sandy tawny complexion speckled with freckles. She could see any number of women swooning over him. After all, the whole village gushed over Grigor, both his looks and bountiful hunting trophies. By Bellona’s opinion, Larek seemed just as handsome, if not moreso, than the other man.

The sole feature that stood out with Larek were his eyes, however. Usually, they seemed hazel in the dim light of the castle, but in the sun, they appeared like molten gold fading to a dark red at the edges. Not that Bellona had ever seen molten gold in her life, of course. It just felt like the correct descriptor for such a striking color.

Not to mention how his gaze seemed to glow lightly whenever he snarled. At first, Bellona shook it away as a trick of the firelight, catching his eye just right. By the third time it happened, without a flame nearby, she couldn’t continue lying to herself. 

Larek’s eyes glowed. 

Especially when he roared at her for the first time.

She’d seen and heard men scream and holler and bellow. Short tempers or long simmering bad attitudes coming to a boil. While they could be upsetting, Larek’s roar was… 

Utterly terrifying. 

The vibrations shook her bones, making her heart skip a few beats. Fear and terror tore through her, arcing over her body and coaxing a tremble to her limbs. Her feet moved on their own, turning and sprinting from his room. Her footfalls heavy on the marble of the floor, one thought shining in her head: Flee. 

Before that moment, Bellona never knew what it was to run for her life. She felt aware of every bit of her body. From her pounding feet to her racing heart to the motes of adrenaline dancing through her veins. As she raced down the stairs and fumbled for her cloak by the door, only instinct guided her.

Though, sometimes running put you in the crosshairs of another predator. That was her thought as she panted, the winter air burning her lungs, and she stared at the half-circle of wolves now surrounding her. She was too far from the castle or the town to scream for help. With shaking hands, she had grabbed a fallen branch and swung it back and forth, screaming in an attempt to scare off the canines. The largest wolf gave a growl and leapt, making Bellona shriek louder and dropping her weapon as its maw clamped down on the wood. The splinter of the branch made her stomach drop, imagination replacing the wood with marrow.

Scurrying back through the snow, her hitched breathing came faster and deeper. Her eyes wheeled around, trying to find some escape route as the wolves closed in. Only darkness and snow and slavering jaws filled her vision. Desperation dissolved into acceptance, the musk and heat of the creatures suffocating her.

Her eyes wrenched shut, just before a snarl echoed through the forest. It was soon followed by Larek careening through the trees, positioning himself between the wolves and Bellona. 

Shock shot the first thought out of her mouth, “What are you doing here!?” 

“I was cursed by a faerie to become human,” supplied Larek, without restraint. Though he winced a bit, realizing how offensive it sounded. She still frowned, obviously displeased with the thought of her own people being used as an enchanted punishment. 

“They cursed us for being ‘tools of his enabling’ or something,” added Lumi with a snort, as she rolled her eyes. Fruk nudged her in the side, giving her a pointed look to shut up.

“Anyway, we weren’t given any particulars on how to break the curse, so we… uh… figured true love’s kiss might do it.” The green of Larek’s cheeks darkened what color and his gold eyes darted away from Bellona. She had to keep from laughing, staring up at the behemoth of an orc as he shifted awkwardly from foot to foot. Though, that amusement didn’t stop an embarrassed flush from creeping over her cheeks. Especially when he finally found the courage to look at her and ask, “What happened after I died?”

A lump rose in Bellona’s throat, feeling all the orcish eyes on her. The streak of red across her cheeks crawled further to consume her ears. Her gaze flickered from one face to another, her brain buzzing with excuses and answers. Instead of what she said to Larek’s dead body, her mouth instead asked, “Why did they even curse you?”

Larek answered with a shrug. “They were mad, since our tribe ran the last nobles out.”

“‘The bacchanals were hilariously tacky and gaudy and you stopped them?’” Lumi pitched her voice high, taking on a slight haughty tone as she waved her hand about imperiously. Evidently mimicking the fae that had cursed them.

Fruk snorted, crossing their arms over their chest. “The nobles had been run out two generations ago, so shows how often the fae even visited.”

“Bellona, you don’t have to tell me or say what you did,” sighed Larek, glaring at the others for derailing the conversation so far. He turned to Bellona, the knot in his throat bobbing as he swallowed. “How do you feel about me? In this form?”

Bellona fell silent, eyes traveling over his body. Height, tusks, different hair, bulging muscles, more scars. But the same freckles and earnestness in those eyes. He patiently waited, though he shifted, fingers twitching with nerves. 

She had to keep from smiling. A familiar sensation of being powerful to him fluttered over her. It was the same feeling when she pressed up to him in the library. 

Just as she opened her mouth to reply, a hand pressed to her shoulder. Half-turning, Bellona found Lumi grinning down at her, leaning close to stage-whisper with a wink, “If he’s not to your liking, I can throw my hat in the ring.”

“Oi, are you serious?” Larek looked about ready to thank Fruk for presumably stepping in, before the stocky orc marched over to Lumi, jabbing a finger against her chest. “Do you really think you can coax Bellona into your bed without opposition?”

Stumbling back from the two bristling orcs, Bellona fumbled against Larek. A shiver ran down her spine as he growled, lowly in her ear, “I will fight the lot of them for you, Bellona.” 

Her attention snapped to his face, mouth half-open in dissent. Then she noticed the amused grin behind his tusks. A quick glance back to Lumi and Fruk, noticing their own amusement as they shoved and scrapped at each other. While it wasn’t gentle, it surely wasn’t enough to hurt either one of them.

The tension in her shoulders eased, her back pressing further into Larek. Her body melted further against him, brief memories of his warmth in the library taunting her thoughts. With a laugh, she shook her head, “This isn’t like the wolves in the forest.” 

“Yes, this will be easier,” chuckled Larek, his arms folding around her, like a protective barrier. Though, he seemed careful not to hold too tight, to keep a buffer of air between their bodies, still uncertain of her comfort with him. “I know Lumi and Fruk’s weak spots.” 

Before Lumi or Fruk could retort, pounding footsteps sounded from inside. The wheezing panting of labored breathing came after, and Bellona gasped as her father pushed through the crowd of orcs.

He gasped down breath, trying to fight the desire to double-over as he shot a finger at Larek. “Unhand my daughter!” 

“Papa!” 

“You again.” The words came out exhausted, but not quite angry, from Larek’s lips. It was as if he should’ve expected the reappearance of Bellona’s father.

“Me, aga-” The old man had stood up straight, pointing his thumb at himself in a defiant way. However, the words stuttered to a halt, his brows furrowing as he eyed Larek. Papa stepped forward, looking the orc up and down and pointing, a little limply, at him. “Weren’t you a human last time?” 

“Yes,” Larek answered, quickly and simply. “The curse has been lifted.” 

“Oh…” Again, Papa’s brows furrowed, and then his gaze jumped from the orc to his own daughter. Bellona could see the cogs turning. “Oh. Should I- uh… should I ask how?” 

Bellona groaned, her cheeks seared with a blush. All eyes were on her again, and she could feel her ears warming with her body. Embarrassment churned inside her, especially as Larek leaned close to her ear and chuckled, “Should he ask how, Bellona?” 

She twisted in his arms, glaring up into his smarmy smile. Narrowing her eyes, a brief flicker of curiosity shot through her thoughts. Without much warning, she reached up and grabbed Larek’s tusks, firmly guiding him down into a sitting position. Shock shot across the orc’s face and, with surprising compliance - or perhaps stumbling from surprise - he ended up on his rear. 

From the other orcs, amused and choked laughter caught in their throats. Some raising their hands to hide their grins while watching the two with knowing eyes. Bellona’s father shuffled back, a surprised ‘oh’ mumbled. 

“I said you were unfair, Larek. To hold me captive and restrict my freedoms, then to free me feeling so confused over you and then dying before I could even understand these feelings.” Bellona still grasped Larek’s tusks, leaning over him. Her eyes locked on to his gaze and she couldn’t help but notice the dark coloring on his cheeks, despite the uncertainty in his wide eyes. Unable to stop herself, her lips tilted in half-smile. “I admitted I didn’t know how I felt and I wanted more time to know you.”

Larek opened his mouth to speak, but Bellona’s hands released his tusks, one hand going to cover his mouth. “I’m not done.” 

Almost at once, he closed his mouth, a muscle in his jaw twitching from how nervously he clamped shut. The two stared at one another for a silent moment. One, aching to hear what was to be said. The other, trying to find the right words.

“Whether human or orc, I still need time to figure out how I feel.” At that, Larek’s pointed ears drooped a little, but he nodded, understandingly. Bellona’s smile grew a smidge, before her hand dropped from his lips and she leaned forward. His eyes widened as she kissed him, chaste but lingering. Once it broke, she grinned down into his flushed features. “You’re off to a pretty good start, though.” 

Relief melted over his face as a slow smile pulled across his lips. The delight turned into something else as teasing glinted in his golden eyes. “Still want to teach me how to love myself?” 

“And you’re back to square one.” Bellona snorted, planting her palm against his face and shoving him back. Turning on her heel, she went to her father, looping her arm around his elbow as she cheerfully said, “Papa, let me show you around.”

“Alright,” answered her father, seeming a bit dazed. Consolingly, she patted him on the arm. She wasn’t entirely sure the shock hadn’t worn off in her own head, as well. 

As Bellona led her father back into the castle, she glanced back at Larek. He hadn’t moved from where she’d left him and he’d been evidently watching her. It almost felt as if she could feel his eyes on her. And it wasn’t an altogether unsettling sensation. 

A sudden thought struck through her. Had he stopped their kiss in the library, because he felt bad for deceiving her? They’d never mentioned they were orcs, but Bellona doubted she would’ve believed them. Was that why he claimed it unfair? At that, something swelled and shivered in her chest. 

“We’ll pick up where we left off in the library later tonight, Larek.” Bellona’s chin jutted out, her words imperious. Though, she wasn’t really suggesting, was she? In tone, it was a definite command. As her eyes swept over the other orcs, all sharing hues of amusement in their faces, she added, “And no one else better be nosing around.” 

"You refused to tell me why I shouldn't go to the west wing!" She shot back, attention turning to his face as a frown carved over her lips. Heat warmed her cheeks as he met her gaze. He had demanded she never enter his wing of the castle, with no explanation! Just a demand. Part of her knew she had done wrong, though. Yet another part rallied. Who needed the seclusion of a whole wing of a castle?

Mentioning his room reminded her of what she saw. Furniture broken to pieces. Paintings and tapestries torn to shreds. A broken mirror, shards falling to the floor. One thing remained intact among all the carnage. A single glass dome housing a floating red rose, under which fallen petals accumulated. Just as she was about to touch the fascinating flora, Larek stormed into the room and roared at her. Which led to her fleeing.

He was unmoved by her explanation. The furrow between his brows deepened. "I shouldn't have to explain that for you to respect the boundary."

The two glared at each other, fire crackling behind them. She considered doubling down and giving into her obstinance. All he had to do was explain his reasonings! It wasn't such an outrageous request on her part. Especially since he was keeping her here, after threatening to imprison her father.

Yet, another part of her relented a little. She had offered herself up, in place of her father. Larek had simply taken her up on the offer. With the run of the castle - save for his wing, of course - it wasn't altogether terrible. Well, until she blatantly disregarded the one restriction he gave her while she was inside the castle.

In any other situation, his reasons would not matter. He had the right to draw a boundary.

"I'm sorry," she sighed. Her focus shifted back to wrapping a bandage around his forearm. "Though, I ask you to understand. I've lost my freedom -"

At that, Larek visibly tensed with irritation. "You made the deal!"

"Because you threatened to imprison my father!" Her brows lowered, a frown curving over her lips as they, once again, leered at one another. Neither entirely happy with the other or their situation. After a beat, Bellona forced herself to relax, letting her shoulders sag. "Anyway, I've lost my freedom. I'm feeling a little chafed, I suppose. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Larek huffed, chin in his hand as he turned his eyes away from her, toward the roaring flames of the fireplace. Bellona returned her attention to his wounds, treating and wrapping awful looking gashes. To his credit, he never winced or whined. That did little to ease the swelling guilt in her chest, though. If it wasn't for her nosiness, he wouldn't have such numerous injuries.

When the guilt became so unbearable, when she thought her chest would burst, Bellona mumbled, "Thank you, by the way."

"Hmm?" His eyes flicked to her, eyebrows raised.

"Thank you for saving me," she repeated, keeping her eyes on his forearm. She had finished bandaging it, so only guilt and embarrassment kept her eyes from his. "You didn't have to go after me."

A strained beat of silence strung between the two. The heat in Bellona's cheeks burning beneath his attention.

"I'm sorry for roaring at you. I know how hu..." Larek cut himself off abruptly. That did draw her curious attention, an eyebrow cocked. He shook his head, clearing his throat as he finished, "I should know better."

After that evening, the atmosphere in the castle shifted. Slightly.

Larek still snarled and grumbled, stomping as he walked as if he were trying to feel bigger than what he was. But there was something slightly different about him.

She couldn't really put her finger on it. Perhaps a softness in his gaze. Or maybe she caught his attention on her a bit more often, when he thought she wasn't looking. Then again, perhaps she was projecting. He had saved her and that would, realistically, appeal to something inside her. Wouldn't it?

That thought sent Bellona poking about the castle, actively avoiding him. She trotted about his home and the grounds, trying to listen out for his footfalls so she may head the opposite way.

In her daily wanderings, she quickly realized something always seemed off in and around the castle. As she stared at the paintings and tapestries, the weapons and armor, a thought itched at the back of her head. It was as if she should notice something. But, the moment she turned away from whatever she focused upon, all thought of the object dissipated.

She'd only remember when her gaze fell toward the object again. Each time, her brows would furrow, recollecting all the times before and wondering how she'd forgotten. If she focused too hard on it, a pain throbbed at her temples.

Then Larek or one of the sentient objects would beckon to her. She'd turn, forgetting her discontent as she answered the call. Only to recall the curiosity and frustration over the object, all over again, when she saw it next.

---

Since her wanderings were varied and without schedule, Bellona would find herself inadvertently listening in on Larek with his animated companions on occasion. They almost always spoke in hushed tones, sometimes with heated tones. Bellona lingered just outside the doorway of the kitchen on one particular incident. It was late and she had already retired to bed after dinner, before the itch of hunger tugged her from bed to find a snack.

She slowed as she neared the kitchen, noting the flicker of candlelight and the voices inside. There were no sounds of dishes being washed or food being prepped for the next day. With her back pressed to the wall, trying to stay to the shadows, curiosity had her listening in.

"I really think you should tell her," sniffed the prim voice of the teapot, Miss Chai.

"No," Larek replied, sounding tired and put out. A shadow moved over the doorway, making Bellona shirk a little further into the dark hall, as he paced by. "I won't be able to trust her feelings are genuine."

"Piss on genuine feelings!" That was Fruk, a rather ironically abrasive feather duster. From the sound of their voice, their feathery appendages would be fluffing like an angry cat's tail. "You just need to fulfill the requirements."

"We don't even know what will fulfill it," countered the smooth voice of Miss Lumi, the candelabra. As she spoke, the telltale squeak of her metal 'arms' gesticulating sounded.

The way they spoke to him was odd, like everything else. Little reverence and much familiarity. Though, he also thought he was a hideous creature and they were talking objects. Typical wasn't their style.

"I don't like this situation any better than the rest of you-"

"Easy for you to say, you have hands still!" Fruk interrupted. Bellona could imagine the duster raising up to feathers, like they were arms to illustrate their point.

There was a beat of silence. Something in the air fizzed across her shoulders, reminding her how the air would change around Larek when he was annoyed. Once it passed, the man continued, "But, if we tell Bellona, if she feels she is obligated to help, isn't that coercive?"

Silence fell after that. Bellona was about to move, when Causton's - a mantelpiece clock - measured words came forth, "We're past that point, Larek. You're already keeping her hostage."

Again, silence fell. This time, it was as if someone typically placid had struck another. Everyone holding their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

That certainly got his attention. Larek's eyes snapped to her face, wide with momentary shock. Bellona refused to look at him. Her eyes glued to the book in her lap, trying to remain cool as her brain agonized in embarrassment. The expression on his face shifted as his eyes narrowed, an uncertain flush biting at his cheeks. "How, exactly?"

The scant space between them, on the library couch, warmed and sizzled. If a hapless dust mote happened to fall between them, it'd burn up. Bellona pretended to finish her page, before calmly placing her bookmark and closing her book. Her attention slowly turned to Larek. He shifted beneath her eye and, she thought, he was holding his breath. He looked stiff and awkward, like the young men in the village whenever a woman repaid a flirtatious remark. Making a contemplative sound, Bellona set her book aside before bridging the space between herself and Larek.

"Correct me if I'm wrong," she started, trying to keep the smile off her lips as she reached to his cheek. His body heat seared into her fingertips and the pink on his cheeks darkened. "But you're more of a physical learner, aren't you?"

The knot in his throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes never leaving her face. When he spoke, his words came out in a rasp, "Very much so."

"In that case," Bellona purred, the smile cresting her lips now. Her hands drew to his chest, pressing her palms flat against him. Beneath her touch, his heart thundered. She leaned close, lips brushing his as she spoke, "I should show rather than tell, shouldn't I?"

When their lips met, heat bloomed in her and her eyelids fluttered shut. Bellona leaned further into his heat, feeling his chest rise and fall with excitement as she deepened the kiss. His warm palms pressed to her hips, their positions shifting until she was straddling his lap. A throaty groan left his lips, her hand finding itself buried in his hair and giving him a little tug.

Excitement flashed through Bellona as Larek's hands tightened on her hips, his own bucking up into her. She answered with a little gasp of her own, breaking the kiss. Her eyes flickered open, her mouth returning to his to catch his lower lip between her teeth.

Larek groaned again, deep in his chest and vibrating against her palms, as her nip sunk in. Instead of pulling her closer, his hands pressed to her arms and firmly pushed her back. Her curious look was met with three words that brought chilly displeasure to her gut. "We should stop."

"What?" Suddenly, the delightful heat she'd stoked turned sickly and painful. Her eyes searched his face, wondering if this was a cruel teasing on his part. But a sober seriousness pinched at Larek's features. "Why?"

She hated the fact she sounded so hurt.

It took Larek a moment to answer. His eyes turning away from her, as if to find a physical representation of his excuse. "None of this is fair. Especially not to you."

The heat inside Bellona shifted. It turned from warm and fuzzy to biting and rigid. Her time with him, idling away the days, had nearly made her forget. He was her captor, keeping her in the castle through a deal. How could she forget that? How could she so eagerly kiss him, let alone climb into his lap? Why was she so upset he'd stopped?

Confusion bit at the back of her eyes as she pushed off him. She blinked back the tears, anger whirling around her head. At herself, the situation, Larek.

For once, Larek's tone was hesitant. "Bellona?"

Her name on his lips spurred the rage inside her. She wheeled her hand back, letting it fly through the air until her palm made impact with his cheek. A satisfying SMACK echoed in the library. With her hand stinging, Bellona stormed from the library, leaving Larek behind. His eyes wide and a red hand mark flaming at his cheek.

After the library incident, Bellona ignored Larek. He'd approach and she'd brush passed him. He'd ask about the book she was reading, but she never looked up or she got up and left the room. By the third day, he took the hint and tried to smooth things over. They were sweet attempts - bouquets of wildflowers, baking her a dessert, trinkets from carved wood - and almost melted her cold exterior.

Instead of thawing, his actions ended up cracking her. One morning, while in a sun-dappled garden, she stared at the things Larek had thrust into her arms. A bouquet of flowers - lilies, this time - and something new. A necklace made of bone and carved with delicate designs. Her thumb traced the carefully etched lines as he explained where he'd gotten the materials and bumbled over his reason for making it.

She didn't fully hear him. Her brain was stuck on flowers and sweets and, now, jewelry. Trappings of courtship and mocking ones, at that.

"Stop!" Bellona threw the bouquet and necklace - made of bone decorated by Larek with intricate carvings - back into his face. Clenching her fists, she glared up into the man's face, face ruddy from frustration and confused tears swelling on her lashes. "Stop with all this! This is confusing enough for me, as is."

"What?" The word came out small for someone who liked to pretend to be bigger than he was.

"What happened in the library was a mistake." Her words came out fiercer than she anticipated. Or maybe a subconscious part of her liked how pained Larek looked from her outburst and wanted more. Still, perhaps, she couldn't deny the hurt and confusion making her heart ache. Tears started to stream down her cheeks and, savagely, she wiped them away as they fell. "No matter what, I'm a captive here. Anything developing between us would be wrong."

With her eyes on the ground, Bellona could tell he stared at her. That just made the heat in her flare again. She wanted to scream at him to say or do something. Pride kept her shoulders hunched, palms swiping at her cheeks as more tears fell.

"Go home."

Her head snapped up, brows furrowed as the surprise halted her tears. "What?"

"Go home. See your father." Larek spoke slowly, as if he didn't want to say the words. His gaze locked onto previously offered gifts in his arms. "Return to me when you're ready."

The world felt strangely still to her, though birds fluttered overhead and bugs flitted in the corner of her vision. Her pulse throbbed in her ears, anxious trembles clenching at her stomach. After a deep breath, Bellona asked, "And if that's never?"

He didn't answer right away. His eyes were still on the items in his arms while the knot at his throat bobbed. Finally, he drew his eyes to Bellona's face, expression pinched with an ache she couldn't define. "Then I'll accept that."

---

Moments later, she was in her room, intending to pack to visit her father. But, as she entered the chambers, a voice said she shouldn't have anything to pack. He'd kept her there, against her will. She should have fled the garden and gone straight home.

Numbly, she began gathering items, laying them out atop a blanket she'd later fashion into a bag. A book of pressed flowers, started by she and Larek. Sloppy drawings the teacup children had made. Her own sketches, in a bound book made with Miss Lumi's direction. With the book she was currently reading in hand, she paused.

"You can take that," Causton's clipped tone came from the doorway. Bellona spun, eyes widening as she saw the crowd.

Causton, Miss Lumi, Fruk, Miss Chai and the little teacups, and... more. It surprised Bellona that she could name each one, had grown to know them well. Their expressions ran the gamut from dismal to embittered. A miserable cloud hovered over them, each staring from the hall, none entering her room. Many seemed about ready to say something.

"Bellona, please don't leave. We need you to-" One of the little teacups - Grey -clattered forward, their small voice sounding close to breaking. They were stopped by Miss Chai, tilting her spout to halt their progress.

"I need space from Larek, from here." She turned back to her things, deciding she had what she wanted to keep. Trying not to look at them, she tied the blanket closed, before folding and wrapping until she had a makeshift bag. Did they know what had happened between she and Larek? He seemed to tell them everything. That thought made her stomach spin and, if she hadn't been fighting down tears earlier, now she was. "I'll be back. I just... I need to think."

No more was said as she shrugged on a coat, the spring days still a tinge chilly from winter. She had made her way out of her bedroom and down the hall when one of them spoke again. Again, her heart lurched, closing her eyes to stymie the sudden flood of tears.

"Come back soon," Fruk growled, voice thick with hurt. His words softened as he added, "We're going to miss you."

It took her a moment to reply. Two deep breaths and a swallow, before she half-turned to give the assembled a watery smile. "I'll try."

In moments, Grigor got her father rambling about fae folk in the woods, the ones who stole her from him for all those months. To that, the “good” doctor promptly diagnosed her father with delirium just as a cart rattled up to her home, ready to transport her father away. 

Horror clenched in her chest as she tried to stop the burly men from hoisting her father away. Her brain was having a hard time keeping up with the sudden turn of events. It wouldn’t be until later she realized it had all been planned. 

She was intercepted by Grigor, who held her firmly back. On his lips, a sick smile and a proposition: Marry him and her father would be saved from the asylum.

Bellona shook the thoughts away. She didn’t want to think what missteps she made that ended here, on the cold stone with Larek’s dead body beneath her. 

“You’re so unfair,” she sobbed, her face pressed into his chest. Her ears ached to hear his heartbeat or feel the steady rhythm, even faintly. But everything about Larek was still. Her fingers tangled further into his shirt, her shoulders shaking through her crying. The whole situation was unfair. From start to finish. And he’d been in the middle of it all. 

He didn’t even have the decency to let sort out her thoughts before confessing and dying on her! Though it wasn’t Larek’s fault. It was Grigor’s, for waging a battle against him and the other castle inhabitants. 

Admitting that didn’t help the pain in her chest or the fractured thoughts struggling to piece themselves together. Against his chest, she pulled her face back far enough to warble, “I want you back so I can figure out how I feel.”

She didn’t notice the others  - Larek’s servants or friends or whatever they truly were - crowding around the balcony door as she collapsed back atop Larek. Nor did she notice the balls of light raining from the sky, clattering like hail across the balcony. It wasn’t until her ear caught a strange hiss did she look up. Scattered around her, little marble-like balls of light continued to fall, gravitating to Larek’s pool of blood. 

They glowed brighter in his blood, threads of light spread into him until his skin glowed. Bellona drew back, staring as an unseen force hoisted Larek’s body up. He spins mid-air, head lolling, his tattered shirt expanding and enveloping him. Bellona watched as the glow overtook his whole body, until she had to raise her hands to keep her eyes from burning.

Her ears perked up, hearing two fleshy feet hit the stone in front of her. 

“Finally.” A voice like Larek’s, but deeper. The words resonating in a broader chest.

Lowering her hands, Bellona peered up. Then, her gaze drew even further up, eyes widening. 

An orc. 

An orc!

A tidal wave of realization slammed into her. The paintings, the armor, the weapons. They were all orcish and she didn’t realize until now! She grabbed at her head, a slight pain throbbing at her temples until it dissipated fully. Only confusion reigned in her mind. How could she have forgotten a whole ancestry?

Her attention focused on the orc before her. They seemed to be taking stock of themselves while she stared. Touching their own arms, legs, tusks, even turning to take a look along their back. Making sure everything was present and accounted for. 

A splotch of red caught Bellona’s eye and she jerked to her feet. 

She’d been so stunned by the - ...well the magic, she supposed - she’d forgotten who’d worn that shirt before. Grabbing the orc’s beefy arm, she forced them to turn and leered up into their face. Dark green freckles dotted their face. A crooked smile grew at their lips as she scrutinized them. And finally, eyes of molten gold.  “Larek?”

“Yes?” 

“This… this is why,” Bellona gasped, releasing his arm, “why you kept bemoaning you were ugly and weak!” 

Larek gave a wincing smile, as if feeling foolish. “Yes.” 

“So, that means…” She took a sudden step back, eyes suddenly going hard. Things were falling into place now, explanations filling her brain before confirmation. Her hands pressed to her chest as her eyes darted back to his face. “You must think I’m ugly and weak, since I’m human. Is that why you stopped me in the library?”

“What?” Larek’s eyes widened, his large hands coming up in a placating manner. “No! I mean, I did thinking that of all humans, at the beginning, but-” 

“Dear gods, boy, you just got her back and already you’re digging a new hole.” 

Bellona and Larek turned at the new voice, the former with eyes widening and the latter with a relieved smile. 

A small horde of orcs stood in the doorway to the balcony.

The one who spoke stood with their arms crossed, a teasing grin on their lips and gold caps on their tusks. They stood taller than the others, though they had a more lithe - but no less muscular - frame. As Bellona stared, she realized it was Lumi, the once-candelabra. She gave Bellona a wink, leaning a little toward her, “I’ll help you hide his body, Bellona.” 

“You’ve been turned back all of five seconds and you’re already trying to seduce her,” snapped a heavily scarred compatriot as they made a face at Lumi. Short and beefy, with a bushy salt-and-pepper beard and a gold ring in one of their ears, reminiscent of the ring in Fruk’s handle.

Behind those two, another nudged them both, letting their gaze swing from Lumi to Fruk. Their tone smooth and measured, the silver cap glinting off their one uncracked tusk. “Enough, you two. She has questions.”

Realizing Causton’s point, all eyes turned back to the one human among their numbers.

“You’re all orcs.” Bellona said after a moment, pressing her hands to her face, the groan sifting between the crevices of her fingers. She felt as if she’d been emotionally dragged by horses after everything that had happened so far. “What happened?”

---