15. Brovish
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
brOVISH
Ilay awake half the night replaying what had happened in the conference room. Not the moment when Laina had come apart under my hands, though I’d replayed that too, extensively, but the moment after. When she’d looked up at me with flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips.
Claiming was straightforward. An orc presented gifts, including hunted meat and crafted tools, plus proof of their ability to help support their mate. The family evaluated the match. If approved, intentions were declared before witnesses, and the claiming began.
Here, I had no framework. I had a veterinarian who let me touch her like I’d been designed specifically for that purpose, and a mother arriving Friday who would evaluate me whether I’d asked for evaluation or not.
I showered and got dressed and crossed the yard to the main building. Inside, lights shone from the break room down the hall. The scent of Traig’s tea mixed with whatever Krem had attempted to cook.
The four of them sat around the table. Drogar had his feet propped up on an empty chair. Krem shuffled through papers. Traig scrolled on his tablet without looking up. Greth sat in his usual spot near the window, watching the yard.
“Morning,” I said, heading for the tea kettle.
“You’re late,” Drogar said. “We’ve already begun the important discussion of whether mossnibbles understand the concept of owning-theft or if they believe all objects belong to the everyone pile.”
“They understand,” Krem said. “They simply have opposing thoughts about the keeping-things-for-oneself concept.”
“That’s still theft.”
“It’s redistribution.”
I poured tea and sat.
Traig lowered his tablet onto the table. “You look like someone who didn’t sleep well.”
“I slept fine.”
“You have the expression you wore when we built the eastern part of the fence, and you insisted on checking every post three times.”
“The posts needed checking.”
Drogar grinned. “The posts were set correctly. You were anxious. What’s causing your anxiety now?”
I wrapped both hands around my mug and decided honesty was faster than deflection. “Laina’s mother is visiting Friday. She has questions about Laina’s new job and life.”
The room went quiet.
Krem set down his papers. “Oh. That’s significant.”
“It’s a disaster,” I said.
“Why?” Greth asked.
“Because her mother left when Laina was young. She’ll share opinions about Laina’s choices.” I took a drink of too-hot tea. “And now Laina has chosen to work here. With us. With me.”
Drogar’s grin widened. “With you specifically. Because of the claiming.”
“There is no claiming.”
“You’ve kissed her.”
“Yes.”
“Multiple times.”
“Also yes.”
“And you desire her as a mate.”
The word mate landed in my chest and stuck there. To orcs, that word carried permanence, intention, and family approval.
“I do,” I said quietly.
Drogar slammed his palm on the table hard enough to rattle our mugs. “Then you must present her mother with proof of your strength. A kill. Something impressive. A hearthmaw would demonstrate that nicely, but they’re difficult to bring down. Perhaps a—”
“No kills,” Traig said without looking up.
“Why not? It’s traditional.”
“We’re not in the kingdom. Humans don’t measure worth by hunting prowess.”
“Some do,” Krem said, glancing between us. “I read about the glory hunters. They mount animal heads on walls to show their killing power.”
“That’s different,” I said.
“How?”
“It just is.”
Drogar leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms on his chest. “Fine. No kills.” He frowned at the others. “What should Brovish present instead? Humans value odd things. Bright shiny rocks. Small cards that mean money. Animal companions they keep inside their homes for the evening cuddles.”
“She already has Sofia for the evening cuddles,” Krem pointed out.
“Sofia chose her. That’s different from being gifted.”
Krem reached under the table and pulled out a thick folder, setting it in front of me with a decisive thump. “I prepared this yesterday when I overheard Laina mention her mother’s visit. It’s research on human mother-daughter bonds and the best pathway for gaining parent approval of a claiming.”
I opened the folder. The first page had seventeen bullet points.
“This is a lot of pages,” I said.
“Not if you don’t include the appendix.”
“There’s an appendix?”
“With citations.” He leaned forward, tapping the second page.
“See here— Human mothers value the steady ground of stability, the coin safety of finances, and proof of care that their offspring are well tended. You should prepare a presentation demonstrating the league’s success, Laina’s salary, and the health coverage we provide. ”
Drogar stared at him. “You want Brovish to present financial documents during a claiming?”
“It’s not a claiming,” Traig said.
“It is a claiming,” Drogar said. “He wants her as a mate. She’s accepted his advances. Her mother is arriving and will evaluate his worthiness. This is the claiming structure, just without our traditional formal declaration.”
“Humans don’t have such things,” Krem said, flipping pages and pointing to a notation. “They have something called ‘meeting the parents,’ which serves the same purpose but with less ceremony and more anxiety.”
Greth made a low sound. Not a grunt but something closer to the noise he made when he’d decided something important.
We all turned.
He carefully set his mug on the floor beside his chair.
“You can’t control what the mother thinks of you.
” He looked at each of us before landing on me.
“You can only control what you show her. And what Brovish should show her is that Laina has built something here. That she’s valued.
Not just by him, but by all of us. By the creatures.
” His scarred knuckles drummed on the windowsill.
“That’s what any mother wants. To know her child has found a place that sees them clearly. ”
No one spoke.
Drogar’s grin had disappeared. Krem clutched his impress-a-mother folder. Traig studied his tablet without scrolling.
“That’s…” Krem nodded slowly. “That’s actually perfect.”
“Better than graphs,” Traig said.
“Even better than an appendix,” Drogar said.
Krem scowled. “Nothing is better than an appendix.”
“Greth’s right,” I said. “I can’t make Laina’s mother approve of me, but I can show her what Laina does here. The creatures she’s helped. The difference she’s made.” I paused. “The place where she belongs.”
“There,” Drogar said, his lips curling up at the corners. “That’s the proper claiming approach. Show the mother that her daughter has found her place, and that you’re part of that place.”
“It’s still not a claiming,” Traig said, but he smiled when he said it.
Krem laid his folder on the table with a sigh. “I spent hours on this.”
“I’ll read it,” I said.
“You won’t.”
“I’ll try.”
A mossnibble had somehow gotten into the break room. It climbed into my lap, grabbed Krem’s folder, and scurried under the table.
Leaning back, I watched it rip out a page labeled, Appendix B: Financial Presentations.
“Your research is being stolen,” I told Krem.
He looked under the table and sighed. “They keep getting into my things.”
“Perhaps they’re trying to tell you something,” Traig said.
The mossnibble emerged with Appendix B clutched in its tiny paws, whistled once, and darted into the hallway.
“They’re building a nest of human relationship advice,” Drogar said with a grin. “This is either very wise or very concerning.”
Sofia chirped from the doorway, and I looked up to find Laina standing there, her hair pulled back, five driftwhisps already woven into her hair.
“Morning,” she said, and her eyes found mine across the room before sliding away. Pink crawled up her neck, into her cheeks. She’d heard us.
“Morning,” I said.
Drogar’s grin could’ve powered the entire facility.
Traig calmly sipped his tea.
Krem clutched his binder that he’d retrieved from underneath the table to his chest.
I caught the small upturn of Greth’s mouth.
Laina cleared her throat. “I’m going to examine Cooper. We’ve got our first school visit in a few weeks, so we should finalize which creatures we’ll share with them and put protocols in place.”
“I’ll help,” I said, standing fast enough that my chair scraped across the floor.
“Subtle,” Drogar said as I passed.
I ignored him.
Laina waited until we were in the hallway before speaking. “How much of that did I interrupt?”
“Enough.”
“Drogar mentioned claiming.”
“He mentions a lot of things.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” She stopped walking, forcing me to stop too. “Claiming each other?”
The question hung between us. In the kingdom, I’d know how to answer. Yes, with witnesses and gifts and formal structure. Here, I only knew that yesterday had changed something between us, and I wanted more of whatever that was.
“I don’t have the human words for what I want to say,” I said carefully. “When an orc decides someone is theirs, there’s a process. Steps to follow. Ways to prove worthiness.”
“It’s different from here?”
“I believe so.” I reached for her hand, our fingers tangling. “But I know I want you to be mine, and I want to be yours, and if your mother’s visit on Friday is part of that process, then I’ll face it standing beside you.”
My hand found the wall beside her head to steady myself.
“When an orc wants someone, there’s a word for it,” I said. “Kavresh. It means, the person whose happiness determines yours. The claiming bond is part of it.” I searched for better words and found none. “I don’t know what humans call it when someone becomes necessary to your breathing.”
“We call it a lot of things.” Her fingers found my wrist, circling it. “Most of them sound less intense than that.”
“Should I use less intense words?”
“No.” She tugged my hand down from the wall and held it between both of hers. “My mother’s going to ask me questions about you.”
“She’s going to want to know what my intentions are.”
“And what are they?”
“To keep you, if you’ll let me.”
Her thumb brushed across my knuckles. “She’s going to have questions about everything, not just your intentions.”
“I’ll answer them.”
“She’s going to judge this place. Us.”
“Then I’ll give her things worth judging well.”
Laina’s smile started small and grew. “You’re very determined.”
“I am. Greth said I should show your mother that you’re known here. That you belong. So that’s what I’ll do.”
“How?”
“I’m still working on the details.” I glanced down the hallway, confirming we were alone, then kissed her. Brief, but thorough enough to make my point.
When I pulled back, her gaze had softened. “We should work.”
“We should.”
Neither of us moved.
Drogar’s voice carried down the hallway, maybe explaining his mossnibble training techniques to Greth, who was probably offering insight.
“If we don’t move,” I said against her mouth, “someone will come looking for us.”
“Probably Drogar.”
“Agreed.”
The hallway lights flickered once, then again.
We broke apart.
“The fizzlings,” Laina said. “I bet one got loose. We should check on them.”
“We should.”
She touched my jaw once, quick, then headed down the hallway. I followed, watching the driftwhisps in her hair sway with each step, and thought about how I’d explain to her mother that her daughter had somehow become the person every creature in this facility chose first.
Not because she tried to be their everything.
Because she couldn’t help it.