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“Thank you, puppy,” he says. She tilts her head.
“Thank you?” she asks, repeating the words back to us.
“No, no,” says Han’zir, chuckling. “You say, ‘you’re welcome.’”
He repeats it a few times, and she gets the message, then practices it back.
“So we’re teaching her to talk now?” I ask him as the human sets about cleaning up.
“Why not? It would make things a lot easier. Then you could tell her what to do.”
I suppose that’s true, but it feels traitorous to be teaching a human how to speak our tongue.
When she steps outside, ostensibly to get some fresh water for cleaning, I gesture for Han’zir to follow her. “You get the water this time,” I snap. “If I have to stitch her up again, you’re sleeping outside tonight.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He bats a hand at me. “I will.”
The rest of the day, the human does everything she can to be useful. Some of the crops are ready for harvest, and she watches carefully as we pull up carrots, check them for bugs, and sort them into baskets by size. Then she joins us at the end of the line—next to Han’zir, I notice, and not me, which sends a surprising shock of jealousy through me.
Of course she likes him more. He’s kinder to her than I am, and significantly more personable. But what am I supposed to do? She’s human. She’s the enemy. She’s small and weak and disgusting, with perfectly round buttocks, and perfect globes for breasts, and?—
Fuck. I’m getting chubby again just thinking about her naked. I turn my eyes back to our work, and I don’t think Han’zir is any the wiser as he inspects the vegetables, then carries some off to be rinsed.
Why the fuck can’t I stop thinking like this?
Now it’s just her and me again, and that feels both thrilling and dangerous. But she keeps her eyes on her work, only occasionally glancing over at me. I sigh, trying to think of how I could convince her I’m not what she thinks I am. I don’t want her to be afraid of me the way she is now.
“You’re being a really good puppy,” I tell her, and she glances up at the word. “I can see that you’re trying hard.” I force a smile onto my face, but it must look more like a grimace because she shrinks back. I sigh and return to my work, wishing I had even an ounce of my troll’s sweetness. But I’m all rough edges and sharp corners.
One thing she does seem to understand is that I’m the taskmaster. She follows me around at a safe distance, watching each job I do and then imitating it as best she can. It’s obvious that Han’zir is a bit of a laze-about as he wanders off to the river to take a bath while we work. But she’s so focused on me, on getting each step right, that she doesn’t even notice him leave.
It feels more than good to be the center of her attention.
I don’t want her to strain her arm, though, so when I get to chopping wood, I send her away to go find Han’zir. She understands the message, and looking a little cowed, leaves to search for him.
I chop log after log, thinking about her face each time she smiles at him, and growl to myself. Whatever this feeling is, I don’t like it. I chop another log, more forcefully, and hope Han’zir hasn’t dropped a beehive into our lives by taking her in.
Chapter 5
Esme
I wish I knew what I needed to do for the orc to like me. Drazak is severe, to say the least. His brows are always furrowed, and when he talks, it comes out a bark or a growl, like a mean dog.
But I’ll take severity over my master’s fake sincerity. He always put on a smile for guests and family, but I knew all his tells, when he was about to come unhinged and I would become his convenient target. I could sense the mood in the house change as he filled with fury, and I learned how to run before he could make me his punching bag. I’m smaller and faster, and even when he chased me, I learned quickly how to outrun him.
No, Drazak is all bark and no bite. I try my hardest to impress him anyway, because more than anything, I want his approval. When I do something right and he gives me a gruff nod, I feel like I’ve won a prize. I only wish that I knew what it took to make him smile.
I think I would like the way Drazak smiles if he were smiling at me.
Han’zir is far more free with his affection. He teaches me words for things, like how to say chicken in Trollkin, or cow, or horse. I learn all the polite words like hello, goodbye, please, and thank you. I’m picking up what the vegetables are called, how to announce that dinner is ready, and what I need around the farm to do my chores. I try to make the meals whenever possible, and I think my cooking impresses them because Han’zir and Drazak always make pleased little noises as they eat. Once I discovered the herb garden and the pepper plants, Drazak stopped trying to fight with me over who was going to use the pan that night.
One thing I’ve learned is that Han’zir has nothing in the way of modesty. Often, he goes and bathes in the river alone, but every so often he warms up the bathtub and gets in it, sighing with pleasure as he slips down under the warm surface of the water. I’m heading back to the house with vegetables for dinner when I catch him getting out, completely naked, his wild blue hair soaked through and lying flat down his back.
There’s muscle. A lot of it. It frames his big chest, his powerful abdomen, trailing all the way down to his groin and thighs. That’s when I tear my eyes away, though I did catch a glimpse of what was between his legs.
In relation to his body, his cock is a normal size. But compared to me... I hold up my hands like a pair of blinders and bolt inside, almost slipping on the steps in my hurry. Han’zir’s chortle follows behind me. I slam the door and lean against it, my breath suddenly coming short and fast. I feel like I’ve run a marathon.
Why did the sight of that stir a sudden, primal need in me? I shake my head, trying to clear the image from my mind, but it’s lodged there now. I think of his cries coming from the house, and the heat running through my blood threatens to catch fire.
