Chapter 28

28

THORAK

I approach the Moonflower Inn, dressed in my nicest leather vest and sturdy trousers, my heavy boots thumping on the cobblestones. Mariah agreed to dinner with my parents tonight. It's a huge step for us after dating for just a month, but things have been going so well that it felt like it was time to deal with it.

I can't wait to see her, though my stomach churns with nervousness.

Stepping inside, the cozy lobby's flickering fireplace and soft fragrant breeze calm my jitters. Mariah emerges from the back, looking breathtaking in a flowing green blouse that brings out her emerald eyes.

Still, I notice the apprehension in the set of her shoulders, the way she chews at her bottom lip. Mariah tucks herself against my side and I pull her close, brushing a kiss to her temple.

"Hey," I murmur. "You look beautiful."

She offers me a crooked smile. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." Her fingers pluck at my vest.

"Only the best for meeting the parents, right?" I joke lightly, hoping to ease some of her tension.

"Right," Mariah agrees with a shaky laugh. "Lead the way, handsome."

Hand in hand, we exit the inn into Elderberry Falls' bustling streets. The smell of baking bread and blooming flowers fills the air. As we walk, I give Mariah's fingers a reassuring squeeze.

But as we draw closer to my parents' house, Mariah's steps falter. She turns to me, worry etched across her delicate features.

"Thorak, I can't stop thinking about the last time I saw your parents at the brewery. The way they looked at me, the things they said..." She shakes her head, chestnut waves cascading over her shoulders. "I know Gruna's been working with them, but what if it's not enough? What if they still can't accept me?"

Gruna's been trying hard to get my parents to come around over the past month. She and Mariah have quickly become close friends, and Gruna wants my parents to accept this relationship as badly as I do. She's been talking with them, sharing articles and books, and thinks they've made good progress in overcoming their prejudices.

I've barely spoken to my parents since our last confrontation. Orc clans are close-knit families, and it hurts to have grown estranged from them. But I know my sister wouldn't have encouraged this dinner if she didn't believe Ma and Da were ready to be more open-minded.

I stop walking and gently cup Mariah's face in my large hands, tilting her chin up to meet my gaze.

"Mariah, listen to me. I know my parents haven't been the most welcoming in the past, but I truly believe they're trying to change." I brush my thumb over her cheekbone, marveling at the smoothness of her skin. "And even if they can't fully accept us tonight, it won't change how I feel about you. Nothing ever could."

Mariah leans into my touch, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. When she opens them again, there's a steely resolve amid the apprehension.

"I know, Thorak. I love you, and I'm not going anywhere." She takes a steadying breath. "I'm just nervous, that's all. But I trust you, and I trust in us."

I press a tender kiss to her forehead before we resume walking, my arm securely around her waist. As we approach the front door of my childhood home, memories of the confrontation with my parents after Ygra's meddling flash through my mind. The harsh words exchanged, the way I stood my ground and refused to let them dictate my life or my love.

It was a turning point for me, a moment of growth and clarity. I knew then, with unwavering certainty, that Mariah was the one I wanted to build a future with, if I could ever win her back.

And now, standing together on the threshold of this pivotal evening, that same resolve courses through my veins.

I give Mariah's hand a reassuring squeeze, our fingers interlaced. "Ready?" I ask softly, searching her face for any sign she might back out.

But she nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "As I'll ever be."

With a deep breath, I raise my free hand and knock on the heavy oaken door. It swings open, revealing the warm, inviting interior of my parents' home.

Ma stands inside the entrance, wringing her hands nervously. Her eyes dart between Mariah and me, her expression a mix of uncertainty and tentative hope.

"Please come in," Ma says, stepping aside to let us enter. "Welcome to our home, Mariah." She reaches out as if to embrace Mariah, and then seems to get in her head about it. In the end, she gives Mariah an awkward pat on the arm.

The aroma of hearty stew and freshly baked bread wafts through the air, mingling with the faint scent of woodsmoke from the crackling fireplace. We step through the foyer and into the cozy living room, where Da sits in his favorite armchair, his weathered face etched with apprehension.

Gruna bounds over to us, her dark hair bouncing with each step. She engulfs Mariah in a warm hug, whispering something in her ear that makes Mariah's shoulders relax slightly.

"It's good to see you both," Gruna says, turning to me with a bright smile. "I've been helping Ma in the kitchen all afternoon. Wait until you taste the roast venison!" She winks at Mariah conspiratorially.

I chuckle. Leave it to Gruna to diffuse the tension with her bubbly personality. "Sounds delicious, Gru."

Da clears his throat and rises from his chair, his large frame filling the space. "Mariah," he says gruffly, extending a hand. "Thank you for coming."

Mariah accepts his handshake, her small hand dwarfed by his massive one. "Thank you for having me, Mr. Ironfist."

"Please, call me Krag." Da's lips twitch into a semblance of a smile. It's a start.

Ma ushers us to the dining room, the table laden with steaming platters of food. My gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the beautifully set table. They've truly made an effort here.

The centerpiece is a stunning arrangement of polished gemstones and metallic figurines, a nod to our orcish love of precious minerals and expert craftsmanship. It's an heirloom centerpiece that my family usually only pulls out on holidays. Each place setting features intricately woven placemats in rich, earthy tones, and our finest polished silverware gleams in the soft candlelight.

All of Gruna and my younger siblings have been sent off to an auntie's house for the night, which lends an unnatural quiet and formality to the room.

We take our seats around the table, and I can feel the nervous energy radiating from Mariah beside me. Under the table, I rest my hand on her knee, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. She shoots me a grateful look, some of the tension easing from her shoulders.

Ma and Da sit across from us, with Gruna sliding into the chair next to Mariah. An awkward silence descends as Ma begins dishing out generous portions of the savory venison stew, the rich aroma wafting through the air.

Gruna, bless her, immediately jumps in to fill the lull. "Mariah, you have to try Ma's famous honey bread! She only makes it for special occasions." She passes a basket of golden, glistening rolls.

"It smells amazing," Mariah says with a genuine smile, helping herself to a still-warm roll. She tears it in half, steam rising from the soft center, and takes a bite. Her eyes widen in delight. "Mor'ghan, this is delicious! You'll have to teach me how to make it sometime."

Ma looks surprised but pleased by the compliment. "Thank you, dear. It's an old family recipe, passed down from my grandmother." She hesitates, then adds, "Perhaps we could bake together one day."

Mariah beams at her. "I'd like that very much."

As we dig into the hearty meal, Gruna keeps the conversation flowing with funny stories from the brewery and updates on our younger siblings. Mariah chimes in here and there, slowly growing more at ease. Ma and Da listen attentively, asking polite questions. There are a few awkward lulls, but overall, the mood is cautiously optimistic.

Until my dad clears his throat and says, "So, Mariah, what are your intentions with our son?"

Her face flushes a beet red and she darts a panicked look at me.

I bristle at my father's blunt question, but before I can intervene, Mariah takes a deep breath and meets his gaze steadily.

"Krag, I love your son with all my heart," she says, her voice unwavering. "My intentions are to build a life with him and to support him in his dreams. I know your family has a history with humans that makes you wary of me, but my feelings for Thorak are genuine and true."

I reach for her hand and intertwine our fingers.

Da grunts, but I catch the hint of approval in his eyes. "And what of children? Of carrying on the Ironfist name and legacy? Can a human even carry orc issues?"

Mariah's face flushes again, and this time I do step in. "Da, with all due respect, that is between Mariah and I only. We've barely been together a month. It's far too soon to be worrying about children and legacies. And if we do decide to have that conversation someday, we will be having it alone."

Ma clears her throat delicately. "What your father means to say is that family is very important to us orcs. We want to make sure that Thorak's partner understands and respects that."

I can see Mariah relax slightly at Ma's more diplomatic phrasing. She nods and says, "Of course. Family is important to me as well. Both my human family and my found family here in Elderberry Falls."

"Ma, Da," I interject, my voice steady despite the nerves coursing through my veins. "We know that this hasn't been easy for you. Our relationship has forced you to confront some deep-seated beliefs you've held for your whole lives. But you need to know that Mariah...she's not just some passing fancy or rebellion against tradition. She's the love of my life."

My gaze locks with Mariah's, who gives me an encouraging nod.

"Her kindness, her compassion, her strength—they've shown me what true love really means. She's it for me, whether or not you accept us. But I hope you do."

Da's eyes soften, a glimmer of understanding breaking through the hardened exterior. His gaze shifts from me to Mariah, studying her as if seeing her for the first time. Slowly, he nods, a gesture so slight it's almost imperceptible.

Beside him, Ma's hand reaches out, tentatively bridging the gap between herself and Mariah. Her fingers brush against Mariah's, a hesitant but sincere touch.

"We...we can see how much you love each other," she says, her voice quiet but steady. "And I promise you that we're trying. We have much to learn and unlearn. But we want to be in your lives."

The tension in the room dissipates. Gruna beams, relief plain on her face. I feel a weight lift from my shoulders, the burden of years of conflict and misunderstanding beginning to ease.

Eventually, the evening draws to a close. I'm about to walk out with Mariah when my parents ask me to stay back. I shoot Mariah a look and she nods.

"Go ahead," Mariah says softly, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'll wait outside."

With a parting smile, she slips out the front door, leaving me alone with my parents. I turn to face them, steeling myself.

Da clears his throat gruffly. "Son, we wanted to say that we're sorry." He looks me square in the eye, his expression earnest. "For how we've been stuck in our old ways, and for everything that happened with Ygra."

Ma nods, her eyes glistening. "Seeing you with Mariah tonight, the way you look at each other...it's clear that your love is real and true. I can't apologize enough for going around your back with Ygra."

Da steps forward, pulling something out of his pocket. "We wanted to give you this, for whenever you might need it. It's yours to use as you see fit."

He opens up his palm and sitting on it is the family heirloom engagement ring, the same one that they had given to Ygra. But they've made changes to it. The orcish swirls and designs in the metal band remain the same but they've swapped the gem out…to a diamond.

They've taken our family ring and altered it to include a human tradition.

My throat suddenly tightens and I clear it gruffly.

I reach out and gently grab the ring from my father's hand, sliding it into my own pocket. But before I can respond, Da pulls me into a brusque hug, so unnatural for him.

And then he utters words I've been waiting years for him to say. "I'm proud of you, son."