Chapter Eighteen

Chapte r Eighteen

O nce I start working out, it’s easy to lose track of time. It’s just been so long since I’ve been in an actual gym. The first thing I do is strip off my shirt because unless I feel like running home I don’t want to be stuck wearing a sweat-soaked one for the rest of the day. I’d like to do the same thing with my pants, but I’m not sure the blue thong Khazak picked out for me today is really work appropriate. Or maybe it’s totally normal around here? Either way, I don’t feel like getting walked in on working out while wearing nothing but that.

It’s an hour at least, maybe a little longer, before Khazak comes to get me for lunch. He shows me where the showers are, sticking around to watch me strip down and clean up. I catch him in the corner of my eye grabbing my thong and sniffing the pouch and tease him. Pervert . Once I’m finished, I throw on my dry shirt and slightly sweaty pants, and the two of us head to the breakroom.

There are a few orcs seated at different tables when we enter, Ragnar and Nylan at one in a corner with a mound of wrapped square packages in the center—sandwiches! We move to join them, and Ragnar happily doles one out to each of us. They’re warm, and I eagerly open mine to see what I’m dealing with, the scent of something sweet and tangy hitting my nostrils. I take a bite and taste what may be some of the juiciest and most tender pork I’ve ever tasted. I moan a little.

“I see you spared no expense.” Khazak speaks up after swallowing his first bite. “Thank you for lunch , Ragnar.”

“Of course. Consider it a welcome back gift.” He smile s broadly.

“I thought it was an apology?” Three heads turn to look at me, Khazak smirking and Nylan tryi ng not to.

“Right.” Ragnar levels his gaze at me. “I’m not sure how those papers ended up in the stack on y our desk.”

“Yes. Very mysterious,” Khazak deadpans before taking ano ther bite.

“Your father says hi, sir,” Nylan speaks up from his seat.

“That would explain the obscene amount of food.” Khazak looks over the small pile still in the center of the table before gazing over at me. “We still have those leftovers as well.”

“What do you mean?” Did they pick these up from Khazak’ s parents?

“His father runs this really great restaurant in town,” Nylan answers. That makes sense. I’d do that too if I could cook l ike Rurig.

“’Runs’ is being generous,” Khazak downplays. “He sold part of it years ago. These days he only goes in and works when he feels like it.”

“I can’t wait until you and I can do that around here one day,” Ragnar speaks a little wistfully, and I can’t tell if he’ s serious.

“Remind me to start looking for your replacement.” Khazak shakes his head and takes ano ther bite.

Ragnar ignores the threat, instead turning to me. “So David, how is your first d ay going?”

“Good, I think. I haven’t really done anything yet.” I shrug. “So far I’ve gotten coffee and gone to the gym.”

“Enjoy the quiet days around here,” Nylan recommends. “You will m iss them.”

“Do you work here too?” It would be nice not being the only orc-pet in t he office.

“Oh, no.” Nylan shakes his head. “I work part time at a bookstore. I just like to come in a lot, usually f or lunch.”

“He’s really more of a house-elf.” Ragnar smiles warmly at his avakesh, who leans over to kiss him.

“Ragnar and Nylan have been together for almost eight years,” Khazak explains as we watch th e display.

“How did you meet?” I point at Nylan a nd Ragnar.

“That is a very long and complicated story,” Ragnar answers for them both. “The short answer is in school when we were children.”

“My parents moved to the city for work, and we stuck around,” Nylan recounts. “My dad only just moved away a few y ears ago.”

“Is your mom still here?” I wonder if they split up or something.

“Ah, no. She died a long time ago.” Shit, this time he’s not just messing with me. Great j ob, David.

“I met Nylan at the same time Ragnar did.” Khazak steps in to distract from the awkwardness. “He and I have been friends our enti re lives.”

Sitting next to each other, I can see that Ragnar looks a lot like Khazak. He has a slightly slimmer build, and he looks to be at least five years younger, but his brown hair and beard are cropped in the same style. His facial hair looks like it might be trimmed a little more closely than Khazak’s, though it might also be his slimmer jaw and shorter tusks. His ears are a little longer, and he actually has them pierced. Most of the other facial details are of course different, but from a distance, I might think the two of them were brothers. Except for his bright blue eyes. I didn’t know orcs could have blue eyes.

“You met in school too?” I point at Khazak and Ragnar. “Was he like your mentor? Like a big brother or s omething?”

“What? No, we were classmates.” Ragnar looks confused. “I knew him even before that. We grew up next door to ea ch other.”

“...How old are you? How old is everyone?” Because now I’m confused.

At that, Nylan suddenly starts laughing which makes Ragnar roll his eyes before looking back to me. “I am also half-elf.”

“Oh!” That explains some of the physical differences, like the eyes and ears. “Were your parents—”

“No, we’re not related,” Nylan cuts me off, sounding offended.

My eyes go wide. You’d think I’d at least try to keep my foot out of my fucking mouth by now. “Oh god, no, I’m sorry. I was just gonna ask if they were friends, I wasn’t t rying to—”

“Are you both done torturing my puppy?” Khazak steps in to defend me, and I realize Nylan is fucking with me again, awkwardness forgotten. Between making me think I said something racist and implying I accused them of incest, he’s got a fucked-up sense of humor.

I like him.

“Why, jealous?” Ragnar snarks at Khazak before turning to me. “I’ve always wondered: is he this stuffy at home? Like when it’s just the tw o of you?”

“Uhhhhh...” My eyes go wide at the question.

“I am not stuffy,” Khazak growls o n my left.

“He refuses to use contractions, David,” Ragnar offers his compelling evidence.

“I just do not understand why it is necessary to mash every word together,” Khazak fires back. “We do not even have contractions in our language!” I notice Nylan’s smirk, but he stays conspicuously silent, probably glad the attention isn ’t on him.

“It’s not even that.” Ragnar crumbles the sauce-covered paper from his finished sandwich. “I swear, somehow you always manage to pick the strangest and most specific word s to use.”

“I like to be precise with my language.” Khazak rolls his eyes.

“Come on, you know what I’m talking about, David, right?” All eyes turn to me at Ragnar’s question, each hopeful in thei r own way.

“...I think the first time he brought me home he called his bathroom a lavatory.” I can’t he lp myself.

The look of betrayal on Khazak’s face says I may pay for that later, but the way I get Ragnar and Nylan to laugh is worth it. What? I want his friends t o like me.

“Insult me all you want, but I remember your mother asking me to tutor you two nights a week when you nearly did not graduate.” Khazak opens a second sandwich.

“...I’m a slow learner,” Ragnar grumbles to himself as Nylan reaches over to give him a half-hearted pat on the wrist.

“As well as a slow reader, a slow writer, a slow test taker...” Khazak trails off before taking a bite of his sandwich as Nylan starts laughing, and Ragnar responds with what I assume is a curse word that I am definitely asking Nylan to teach me later.

It’s fun to watch the three of them interact during lunch, Khazak laughing and playing around with his friends. When the jokes start flying, I am a little worried he might react like he did with his sister but no, he’s happily smiling while they fling barbs at each other. When we’re finished eating, Nylan says his goodbyes—he’s got an afternoon shift at the bookstore—and Khazak brings me back to h is office.

“Finished signing things?” I see that the stack of papers has been moved to the side.

“Just before lunch.” He takes a seat behind his desk. “Ready to discuss you r duties?”

“Yes, Sir.” I grab a seat in front of the desk. No point in avoi ding this.

“First, I assume that when we are here, and you have the free time, you will want to spend some time in the gymnasium?” He nods his head in the room’s direction.

“Yes, please.” I nod. I’m already excited to start bulking up again, especially considering how much I’ve been eati ng lately.

“Good. I look forward to seeing the results.” He gives me a lecherous grin. “But when you are not exercising, I would like you to work on this.” He slides a book from the left side of his d esk to me.

I take a hold of it. The cover reads Learning Atasi . “Wha t’s this?”

“A language book.” He leans back a little. “I think it would be beneficial for you to start learning so me Atasi.”

“Atasi? You don’t want me to learn Orcish?” That seems like a weir d request.

“No.” He looks at me oddly. “We do not spea k Orcish.”

“You don’t?” I’m really confused now. “Then what have you been… Isn’t that what or cs speak?”

“Orcs in your part of the world.” He leans forward on his forearms. “David, you are aware that we do not even call ourselves orc s, right?”

“What are you talking about?” Is he high? “Why wouldn’t you call yoursel ves orcs?”

“Because that is not a word that exists in our language.” He pauses for a moment. “Think about the humans who live in the area. Not those who have migrated from your part of the world, but the humans already here. It is likely that most of them have never heard a single word spoken in Common, so ‘human’ means nothing to them. Why would it?”

“I’ve...never thought about that before.” Does that mean elves don’t call themselves elves? “What do you call yourselv es, then?”

“ A’tahsaya .” At least that’s easier to pronounce than the name of the city, barely. “It translates literally to ‘the noble uniters.’”

“Huh.” I sit in my seat a little dumbfounded. “So I’ve spent the last week thinking everyone was speaking a different language. Wait, does that mean it’s wrong to call you orcs?”

“No, it is just a translation.” He correctly takes my confused face to mean he should continue explaining. “Take my title, for example. In Atasi, we have no word for ‘captain’ or ‘deputy,’ but the positions we hold are close enough that it is simpler to use those terms when speaking in Common than force a direct translation. That has been the case with most of the names for things I have told you. Take our small bout of confusion with the term ‘labor camp.’” My head shoots up at the mention, eyes wide. “Exactly. Though I think I will be petitioning the council about changing that particular phrase. A lighter example: what did I tell you our word for ‘paperwork’ meant?” I can’t hold in the giggle as I recall ‘sad wood.’ “You can see why it makes more sense to simply call it ‘pa perwork.’”

“Yeah, I think I get it.” I look down at the book in my lap. Languages are complicated. “Wait, how do I even know the orcs where I come from call themsel ves orcs?”

“I am not sure. The only other group of orcs I really have knowledge about live far west of here. They use a similar name and language as we do, but even those are not exactly the same.” He pauses for a moment. “Do you know who we could ask?” I shake my head no. “Our favorite legal advocate.”

“Well, we’re definitely not doing that.” I’d rather memorize this book front to back. “Why would he know?”

“He is originally from Grimmlaand.” Grimmlaand is a country not that far from home, located on the mainland southeast of Inisfalia and Albion. Despite its name, it is by all accounts a beautiful country blanketed in forests and lakes with rivers that stretch for miles. I know there are orcs living there, but big cities of any kind are few and fa r between.

A lot of wonderful scenery but not a lot of centralized government means attempted invasions aren’t uncommon, but all the rough and unkempt woodland terrain is the perfect defense. Their neighbors to the south, the Empire of Roma Alba, tried and failed more than once. Of course, that led to Roma Alba joining with Albion to form the Holy Albion Empire and start what feels like a perpetual holy land war, but that’s exactly why my group went west across the ocean and far away from all that crap.

“He’s not from here?” I knew I heard an acce nt on him.

“No, he moved to Tah’lj early last year. I assumed the red hair would have given it away.” I guess I never considered that orcs in different parts of the world might vary in appearance the same way humans and other races do. “Most of us here have black or brown hair. There is also a slight blue tinge to his co mplexion.”

“I had no idea. Still don’t want to ask him for anything.” I will admit it is mildly interesting. “So what’s the word around here fo r humans?”

“That depends on who you ask. There are over a dozen languages spoken along the eastern coastline alone.” I roll my eyes. We get it—you’re smart. “In Atasi, the word is ‘ ni’pak .‘ It means ‘hairl ess one.’”

“We are not hairless,” I scoff, dropping the book in my lap. “Are all your words for non-orcs just descriptive insults?”

“Only the ones for humans,” he jokes, smirking. “Our language has a tendency to be oddly descriptive l ike that.”

“And I suppose the fact that you use the borderline frightening direct translations of your last names is purely coincidental and not something you take advantage of to intimidate outsiders?” Not that I blame them; if my last name translated to something like ‘Firesword’ or ‘Godkiller’ in another language, I’d u se it too.

“They do not all translate like that.” He doesn’t deny it though. “That is quite the charge coming from the people who literally named their language ‘Common.’”

“Hey, I didn’t get to pick out what it’s called!” I definitely wouldn’t have gone with ‘Common’ if I had. “Besides, elves speak it just as much as we do.”

“Yet somehow elves manage to be much less obnoxious about expecting everyone else around them to also speak it.” He smirks, and I stick my tongue out in response. I’ll show him obnoxious. “Now, concerning your duties when in the field. As I said before you have no actual authority on your own, but during the course of an investigation, you will be able to help me with things like conducting searches or questioning a witness. Should the need arise, you will also help me to defend against any would-be attackers or subdue individuals being detained.”

“Gotcha.” I nod and stare at the book in my lap.

“Is it learning a new language that is bothering you, or are you nervous because you have not done work like this before?” Khazak asks, noticing my lack of e nthusiasm.

“Actually...this is a lot like what I used to do.” I scratch the back of my head. I guess it’s time to talk about it. “Not all the time, bu t enough.”

“You know, you have mentioned this academy you attended several times but not exactly what you did there.” He sits back in his seat. “Enli ghten me.”

“I already told you that it was essentially a pre-military school. The Northlake Academy of Knighthood.” I start thinking back to the years of training and drills. “The idea was that you’d go there for a few years, graduate and become a knight, then get shipped off to some outpost somewhere. You make a big name for yourself while you’re out there, come back, and get treated lik e a hero.”

“And that is what you were going to do?” he asks from across the desk.

“That was the plan.” I shrug. “I was never crazy about it. When I was little, I was raised on these epic stories of knights and heroes, good versus evil. But the world isn’t like that. I’m not sure it ever was.”

“I imagine there would be a lot of pressure in having to live up to something like that,” he sy mpathizes.

“No kidding.” I sigh. “Most of what we did was practice drills and take a lot of history classes. But sometimes we would get called into town to act as guards or police, like if there was a public event or holiday. Our authority wasn’t very well defined though. At any given time, we had exactly as much power as the people in charge of us decided we wo uld have.”

“That sounds...vague.” He tilts his head in confusion.

“Yeah, you might even wonder if it wasn’t set up that way intentionally, ” I gripe.

“Did something happen?” He sounds concerned.

“Sorta. There was a protest. I don’t remember over what exactly, taxes or land rights or something.” I regret not paying more attention to that stuff. “There were crowds of angry people gathered around city hall, and we were deployed to break them up. When we got out there, it was chaos. Everyone was yelling and throwing things: rocks, vegetables, whatever they could get their hands on. We got the orders to start arresting people almost immediately. I watched my classmates start grabbing people and throwing them to the ground, cuffing them without a second thought. It wasn’t like these people were looking for a fight. These were families, mothers and fathers, children, old people, all just angry because no one was listening to them.” I pause and take a deep breath. “I remember there was this boy who threw a rock at my commander. It was a fucking pebble, and the kid couldn’t have been older than fourteen. What the hell was he going to do, really? He was a fucking kid . When I refused to arrest him, my commander threatened to throw me in a cell. I walked off the field ri ght then.”

“Is that why you left?” He’s on the ri ght track.

“It wasn’t the first time something like that happened. I was never really happy there, you know? But it was that kind of stuff that always made me wonder what I was really doing, who I was really working for. Sometimes we’d be deployed to work security at some private function or maybe we would have to escort someone somewhere, but it was never anything that actually seemed important. After a while, it started to feel like we were only really helping one group of people—the ones with money.” It’s starting to feel like I’m rambling. “I started saving up a little money last year, even though I didn’t have a plan yet. It wasn’t until Adam came to my room that night that I actually decided to do s omething.”

“What did he do?” Do I detect some jealousy?

“I was in my bunk still fuming when he knocked on the door.” I have a pretty clear memory of that night. “He wanted to talk about what happened at the protest, and for a minute, I was worried he was there to tell me to get over what happened like everyone else. But he didn’t. He didn’t stay out there very long either. He was on my side. Then he asked me if I’d ever thought about leaving. So, I told him about the money I h ad saved.”

“Were his motivations similar to yours?” Less jealousy.

“More or less, but he had his own reasons too.” Like losing both of his parents in a fire last year. “The day after that, we talked to Elisabeth, who was as apathetic about that place as we were. A week later, we packed up and left in the middle of the night. Took a wagon out of town to the coast, bought a boat ticket, and her e we are.”

“Was it really necessary to leave in the middle of the night?” He sounds skeptical.

“Probably not.” I shrug. “We didn’t break the law or anything, but none of us really felt like explaining anything t o anyone.”

“Like your family?” He raises an eyebr ow. Bingo .

“Like my family.” I no d wearily.

“Well, as much as I wish I could to assure you that things are different here, recent events might—” A knock on the open door inter rupts him.

“Good afternoon, Captain Ironstorm. David ,” Redwish sneers my name, appearing as if on cue.

“Advocate Redwish.” Khazak rises, and I move to stand beside him on the other side of the desk. “Thank you for c oming in.”

“Of course, sir.” He offers a small bow before taking a seat. “I was told you wished to speak regarding the day of Mr. Cerano’ s arrest.”

“Yes.” Khazak takes his own seat while I remain standing next to him. “It has been brought to my attention that you may not have been completely forthcoming with the objectives and consequences of the Nagul Uzu’gor that day.”

“I am not sure I know what you mean.” He plays dumb well. I’ll give him that.

“You made it seem like I was supposed to try and kill him,” I growl, unable to keep my composure. “You made it seem like he was trying to kill me .”

“I did no such thing.” He sounds completely unimpressed with my ac cusations.

“I must admit I also feel as though something is amiss.” Khazak pushes forward, ignoring my outburst. “You implied to me that David would be lyi ng about—”

“I am sorry, but have you known him to be particularly honest?” He eyes me suspiciously. “I understand he has made a number of escape attempts.”

“That is not the reason I asked—”

“Then what did you ask me here for, sir? Are you accusing me of something?” Redwish snaps. “What I have done, Captain, is my job. You will have to forgive me for not paying mind to the incorrect assumptions of a common thug. Honestly, I am not sure why either of you are complaining to begin with. Given how cozy I understand the two of you have become, I would think you would want to thank me.”

“I apologize, Advocate Redwish.” Khazak’s tone definitely does not suggest he apologizes. “I meant no offense.”

“Yes well, unless there is anything else, I will be on my way.” He stands and moves to the door. “Good day, g entlemen.”

I break the silence after he’s gone. “You don’t believe him , do you?”

“Of course not.” Khazak sighs. “But I cannot accuse him of professional impropriety without something to back it up. I am not actually sure what I could accuse him o f at all.”

I move back to my seat and slump down. I’m not sure that cleared anything up, but I think we can assume whatever he did, it was intentional. If he had told me the truth about what was going to happen in that arena, I’d probably be locked with my friends right now. Which is what I’m supposed to wa nt, right?

I look up to see Khazak lost in thought like I am, a frown on his face.

“Earlier you asked me if knowing the real reason for the ritual would have made me feel differently.” His eyes meet mine when I start talking. “And the truth is, it probably would have. If Redwish had told me what was actually going to happen if I lost, then I never would have considered challenging you. Hell, if my group had just decided not to explore the ruins to begin with, we wouldn’t have ended up in jail at all. So as fucked up as it is... I’m kinda happy all those things happened because if they hadn’t, I might not have met you.”

“I am happy I met you too, David.” I can see my words warming him, and I stand to walk around the d esk again.

“So what I’m saying is: me making bad decisions is a good thing.” I grin and bump into his shoulder.

With a laugh, he pulls me into his lap, bringing our mouths together for a kiss that feels a lot more romantic than I expect. I linger there just a little too long, scrambling to stand a moment later when I feel flustered.

“So, uh, was there anything else around here you wanted to show me?” I sheepish ly mumble.

The rest of the afternoon is pretty boring. Khazak shows me around the station a little more, showing me where equipment is kept and introducing me to the people in charge of specific departments. Toward the end of the day, I wind up cracking the Atasi book open while on the couch in Khazak’s office until I feel a hand on my shoulder shaking me awake. Shit. Time t o go home .

“So how did I do on my first day?” I ask as we walk in the door after our short walk home.

“Your performance was adequate,” he teases, walking in the kitchen to return our uneaten leftovers to t he icebox.

“Was it adequate enough to have earned a reward?” I kick off my shoes and lean against th e counter.

“Not sure. My coffee was cold...” He turns to see me glaring and laughs. “But I suppose you did well enough. Sit on t he couch.”

He doesn’t have to tell me twice. I move to the living room and hop onto the center of the couch. He joins me a moment later, standing in front of me before dropping to his knees and rubbing his hands along my thighs. Oh shit, that’s what my reward is? He locks eyes with me, reaching up to tug me down by my collar in to a kiss.

“You are not to move these.” He grabs my wrists as we break apart, placing them on the outsides of my lightly furred thighs. “ Or to cum without pe rmission.”

“Yes, Sir.” I nod eagerly. I ca n do that.

His hands move to my belt, removing it and unbuttoning my pants at the waist. Hooking his fingers into my waistband, he has me lift my hips so he can pull those and my thong down and off my legs in one smooth motion. He runs his hands over my thighs, the skin-on-skin contact making me shiver. Then he lowers his head.

He nuzzles at my half-hard cock, kissing the skin where the shaft meets my sack. His facial hair tickles and his tusks scrape at my skin, the dueling sensations making me fist my hands at my sides. His tongue lathes over one of my balls, and I moan as he takes his time, kissing and licking me until I’m f ully hard.

He moves up, dragging his lips along my shaft until he reaches the head, taking it into this mouth and sucking gently. His tongue dips into my foreskin, swirling around the tip and making me squirm. Looking down, I can see a glint of playfulness i n his eye.

Then he swallows me down to the hilt.

“ Fuck ,” I groan, struggling not to grab onto his head. My hips are less successful at remaining still, the urge to hump up into his face hitting me instantly, but his hands on my thighs hold me in place. His mouth is so hot, and wet, and I know that is an obvious description, but I’ve never gotten a blowjob before so fuck off —this i s amazing.

He pulls his head back, leaving just a few inches of me in his mouth before sinking back down like it’s the easiest thing to do in the world. Which it might be for him? He bobs up and down, his forehead bumping into my stomach as he goes. Fuck , I can feel the flat of his tongue stroking along the bottom of my shaft. I’m going to need to remember how he’s doing some of this. I can already feel myself starting to get close.

Then he pauses, pulling off completely and letting my dick hit my belly with a wet slap . He dives back into my crotch, once again working over my nutsack with his tongue and making me gasp. Only when the urge to cum has left me do his lips wrap around my flesh once again and swallo w me down.

He repeats this two more times, each bringing me closer and closer to spilling over the edge, before backing off at the last moment and moving to tease me until I calm down. After the third time, the frustration finally gets to me, and I groan. His eyes catch mine, and I can see that they’re filled with that same pl ayfulness.

“Please,” I whine. “Please let me cum, Sir.”

“You may cum now, puppy.” The words are spoken right before he sheathes my cock in h is throat.

His movements are fast and practiced, taking every inch of me without gagging. His hands are no longer holding me down, my hips free to chase the warm, wet heat of his mouth. It only takes me seconds before I’m on the edge again, my legs tense until after one final bob of head, I explode. He sinks onto my lap as my cock pulses, shooting my cum directly into his throat. If I could think straight, I’d be impressed that he isn’ t gagging.

I’m not thinking straight.

When I finish, I’m nothing more than a David-shaped puddle on the couch. I feel sweaty, and hot, and kinda like I want a nap. Khazak stands in front of me, holding a hand out to pull me up and kisses me. I can only barely taste myself, most of my cum already in hi s stomach.

“I hope you enjoyed that.” He strokes my sweaty back. “Because I am going to make you work hard to earn the next one.”

“Yes, Sir,” I respond, a little dazed but more than up for the challenge.