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Varkul Tamer of Beasts
Chapter 3: The Nervous Warrior

Chapter 3: The Nervous Warrior

Chapter 3

The Nervous Warrior

Varkul

It had been a long journey from my clan to Westhaven's Welcoming of Spring Festival—10 days, to be exact.

The pack and I could've cut the time in half by not stopping to camp, but I decided the journey was a much needed rest. The silence was healing as much as it was daunting.

The pack seemed pleased with the new smells and could roam curiously for many days. They are my companions, ones I have cared for deeply. I have had my Throkkar and his siblings since they were orphaned cubs over 10 years ago; we have become a formidable family.

They have seen many wars, won our clan dozens of battles, and hunted many beasts. All at my side, protecting me as I protect them. They are my pride, family, and most significant accomplishment as my clan's Tamer of Beasts. My reputation precedes me; none has done as I have in my profession; I am the best that has ever been, thus far, in my people's history.

I take great pride in this fact and work tirelessly to deserve this title. It is an honor to have made such great strides in my line of work.

This festival is important because it gives me a place considered neutral territory to orcs. There I may teach orcs from other clans the way of the beasts without risking battle.

The orcs of our kingdom are facing pressure from the other races. Our numbers overall are not as great as in the past. Thus far, nothing but pride, ego, and customs have kept the orc clans separated and feuding. But my clan is willing to be the first to offer the olive branch. To give knowledge freely that has otherwise been kept only for ourselves. I take pride in my Chieftain's wisdom and willingness to change.

Not everyone in my clan agrees with him, but he is the strongest among us; challenging his wishes now would mean death in battle.

Nearing the gates of this town after days on the road, I am optimistic that this will be the beginning of my people becoming stronger and closer to one another.

There are many strong beasts in the wilderness of our kingdom, and entire forests are avoided by all races for fear of death. Beasts that could start and end wars, beasts that could protect everything orcs hold dear: tradition, honor, and family. And I will be the one to pass this knowledge on. It is an important duty, one that I have not taken lightly.

Perhaps when this is all said and done, I can finally retire and settle down. I could find myself a life mate—a strong, courageous, and loyal woman —breathtakingly beautiful and reliable, like the sun that rises without fail every morning and steals my breath with her ever-changing colors.

A woman I can love and care for. A woman I can spoil. The fruit of all the hard work I have put into my life would end as I dedicate my life to my true soul.

Sometimes, when I lay awake at night, I allow my thoughts to torture me about what she might be like. Would she enjoy dancing and baking? Would she love art and reading? Would she find me strong enough to be deserving of her. Would she find me kind or funny, would she crave my presence as I know I will crave hers, and if she would fall asleep every night excited to wake up to spend the day with me all over again.

These are not common thoughts for an orc man, especially not one as battle-seasoned as I am. But, I have spent most of my life alone, away from my clan, in the wilderness, perfecting my skills. Only coming back to aid in war and protection. I have also, unlike many orcs, sought comfort in books that speak of such love. I have grown to define my own path when it comes to partnership. And how I crave a love as strong as I imagine. I crave a woman I can caress and hold and never let go of, for children who laugh and run, for laughter to fill my home with happiness.

These thoughts fuel my work. They're what keep me going. They are the light at the end of the tunnel, my dream for when all is done and I can rest.

I focus my thoughts as I near the front of the line.

I leave the bulk of my pack at the edge of the woods to wait for me; five ten-foot Ravkuuns would not bode well in town. I keep my second-in-command, Throkkar, the eldest of the litter, with me.

The town hall is nearly empty when I walk through its doors. Just me and a couple of merchants in front of me left. I made good timing, avoiding the multi-hour long wait time.

I take the time to look around the hall, which is simple and smells of old wood. As I lose focus, lazily taking in my surroundings, a bright laugh interrupts my thoughts.

I pause and look toward the sound and notice a young woman checking in the new merchants.

Her smile brighter than any I had seen thus far in my travels. There is such purity and curiosity in her eyes. Whatever that merchant is telling her has her eyes sparkling in wonder, and her smile is growing so big that her eyes are squinting ever so adorably. Looking at her is like breathing fresh mountain air, calming and ever-so-soothing. I am in awe at her presence.

It makes me wonder if I, too, could make her look at me like that when it is my turn. Her presence exudes kindness and honor. It dances around her like waves. I need not know of her to feel certain. Kindness like the one in her eyes cannot be faked. It is the kindness of someone who wishes for everyone to feel seen and safe, the eyes of a worthy woman.

I squirm in place, now somewhat unsure.

What should I say after she greets me?

Hello?

Definitely not.

Throkkar gives a grunt, temporarily distracting me from my beating heart and sweaty palms. I look up to see him looking at me with a deadpan look. Perhaps he feels ashamed of me? That seems plausible. I chuff and puff my chest, he needn't see my sweating, nor is it any of his concern.

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In my nerves and distracted thoughts, I did not realize the commotion that had started ahead of me. When I turned back to my future mate, an elf was yelling in her face. I was many steps behind him, and by the time I neared my poor beloved, he had already manhandled her.

As I near touching him, I see her beautiful eyebrows scrunched in defiance, an attempt on her part to keep her chin up and not show weakness. But I can see she is scared, looking for her useless guard that is nowhere to be seen. Her tearful eyes and trembling lips stabbed at my heart and made me curse at myself for not paying attention sooner. I made a mistake, and I will not repeat it.

I finally wrap my hand around the minuscule elf's head. I am furious; my teeth clench as I see nothing but red.

"Let go of the young maiden's arm, lest I skin you and feed you to my Throkkar." I growl out.

I barely contain the sinister thought of beheading him where he stands for laying his filthy hands on my woman. I wish not to scare the already trembling maiden.

I hear a whimper from her mouth, a sound I wish not hear from her in this situation. I look down at her and see that she is cowering away as she looks at my Throkkar. That pains me deeply. Disappointment and fear of future rejection weigh heavy on my shoulders. I fear I will not even get a chance to court her if my Throkkar scares her so heavily.

I realize that this dishonorable piece of trash is holding her so aggressively that she lays on her knees, her dress sliding down her shoulder, revealing a purple bruise covering her entire left chest area. The bruise is absolutely massive and was most definitely not given today.

Someone had beat on my sunshine. Someone had dared to put their hands on my woman.

They would die for that mistake, of that I am certain.

In his infinite wisdom, the elf unhands my beloved just as I look up from her bruise and catch her eyes slowly wandering up my body.

She gasps as her mouth falls wide open in shock. She takes her time, taking every section of me in. My mind goes crazy, wondering what could be happening in her pretty little head. I worry to look into her eyes and see fear.

Scars, dominance, and muscle may be attractive for orc women when finding mates, but human women have no such expectations or wants. Orcs are already seen as savages by them; my looks would only exacerbate that rhetoric.

I can see her breathing increasing rapidly, her face and body turning an even darker shade of red than she already had, her body shaking ever so slightly. I turn my attention back to the elf, too cowardly to look into my woman's eyes and see the fear I know is there. So, instead of the pain of rejection, I will accept the anger of seeing this elf's punishment through.

I moved him away from my angel and grabbed hold of his arm as he did to her and squeezed until I feel bones snap. He yells in agony, his wife screaming behind me, pleading for his life.

"You thought you could put your hands on my sunshine and not suffer any repercussions?" I whisper aggressively in his ear.

"I'm s-sorry s-s-sir, I d-did not know she was y-your wo-woman. P-please! Have mercy!" He pathetically begs for his life.

I smile at his antics, thoroughly entertained by his fear, his wife still incessantly yelling in the background. I pause to think about how exactly I should dispose of him. I lean towards days of torture and then being eaten alive by my Throkkar.

Yes. Yes, that will suffice.

As I'm figuring out the miscellaneous details of his savage demise, I feel a delicately soft hand touch my bicep. I look down to see my sunshine looking at me with tear-stained cheeks and trembling lips. I have never felt as helpless as I feel now seeing my beloved hurting.

"P-please, it's okay. I-I'm alright; you needn't do more on my behalf. Please stop."

She begs for his life?..

I have heard that humans have more merciful laws regarding assault, but orcs have no such mercies. Any slights regarding one's mate are punishable by death, no exceptions. I was within my right to kill him, even if she technically wasn't my mate. Yet.

"He has hurt you, little one; that is unacceptable," I state as calmly as possible, still trembling in anger.

My control over my carnal antics has never been more tested than at this very moment. Never have I had to stop and think about what someone thought of my actions. But, for the first time in my life, what this maiden thinks of me is all I can think about; it is all I care about.

She looks at me with those wide, teary eyes, so innocent and sweet. Concern etched in them for this elf's useless existence.

As angry as I was, I didn't want to make her fear worse. She was in physical pain and emotionally vulnerable. I will send Throkkar to hunt him down when all this is settled. That way, we both win; she lives her life thinking she saved his life, and I sleep soundly knowing I avenged my pretty little mate.

I give her a grunt of acknowledgment and shove the elf to the floor. Pathetic scum. He hurriedly scurries away, his wife close behind.

I walk back towards the check-in table, write my name on a piece of paper, and set down my other half of the payment for the market. I then turn around and head back toward her.

As I stop in front of her, a mere breath away, I notice her bruise yet again, lifting my hand to gently caress it. She winces and then looks at me with eyes full of surprise and fear. She goes to lift her dress over shoulders and looks down, almost ashamed and scared that I have taken notice of it.

"Who did this to you?" I ask, not even attempting to hide the anger in my voice. My body shakes once more; I am livid.

"It was an accident, sir, I ran into something earlier this week; you needn't worry."

She didn't even try to make eye contact during her explanation. If I didn't have phenomenal hearing, I would probably have had to ask her to repeat herself with how softly she was whispering.

I do not worry about the specifics; I will figure it out soon enough. I do not wish to push her and scare her away. She knows nothing of me; I am not surprised she is wary to admit her abuse to me.

I lean down, pick up my love, and walk toward the town.

At this distance, her sweet scent hits me like a punch to the gut. A scent of Strawberries and earth? It is such an intoxicating blend that it has filled my brain with thoughts of never letting go.

I am quickly losing this mind battle; she is too precious. She is so sweet and small, vulnerable yet strong in her own right.

Have mercy. I am falling fast, and I wish to have her. I wish to worship her and hold her until the end of time. If she'll let me, I could give her the world.

I take a deep breath in an attempt to control myself and ask her where the infirmary is. She points in its direction and stays quiet. She does not lift her eyes to look at me or grace me with her sweet voice. She trembles, scooting away from my chest as though she wishes to get as far away from me as possible.

She must find me truly repulsive. She must see me as some hideous and savage orc.

We pass through the entrance of the infirmary and I set her down gently, letting my hands linger a moment longer to savor her closeness. I look at her face momentarily, willing my brain to capture the image and keep it with me forever. I then promptly turn around and walk out.

Disappointment and sadness run deep in my chest.

Of course, a woman as perfect as my beloved would not want a man like me. Why would she? She probably has everyone in town and the towns over trying for her hand. Why would she choose this aged and battered log?

Throkkar gives me a whine and a touch of his snout. I look up at him and see him tilt his head curiously as he looks back toward the infirmary. He wonders why we left her there and if we will return. I give him the rough pets behind his ear I know he enjoys.

"She is not for us, Throkkar; my sunshine belongs elsewhere; she does not want us."

I will be sure to handle the elf and whoever is beating her before my departure from town. But, I shall leave her be. She does not belong with me.

I return to the town hall to grab my materials for the market and head down to set up my things. Perhaps before all this is over, I will get a glimpse of my sweet love before heading back home.

I may be an orc, but I am no savage. And force my sunshine to be my mate; I will not.

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