The Orsimeric candle tradition part 2

The next Part of the Candle-Tradition of the Orsimer. Only two cnadles remain!

"Sit down," said the older Orc woman and Gaturn sits down. Guilette sat next to him and smiled at him when he made his candle out. She did so, too, and burned her fingers, but she did not mind.

Stay calm, Guilette. Everything OK. There is food to eat, and then the ice is already broken.

"So. How old are you, child?"

"Sixteen."

"Then tell me, where did you meet my son?" Asked the orc mother and Guilette smiled.

"I am studying the orsimeric culture and Gaturn was a guest speaker on the university. After the lesson, I invited him to a drink and we were talking."

The mother is nice. That's good. She will probably be happy if her son is happy. But the daughter could be difficult.

"And what was the little fucker said?" Ghorash asked, her eyes fixed on his brother.

"Not much. I sat in ... "

"I don't care about you. I was asking about my brother."

"Ghorash, you pretend pussy!" The father yelled as he took the helmet to the armor and sat down again. "Let her talk!"

"As I said, I sat in the class at the front row."

Gaturn looked to the ground and took the word. "I have just started talking about hunting traditions as I looked in her green eyes and lost myself in them."

He reached for her hand and smiled.

A romanticist in an orc. I love him. He is so cute.

"Like a school girl."

Guilettes's stomach ached of hunger and she just had no nerve for this woman.

Orsimer want honesty at the table. I know that. If she wants honesty, then she gets that too.

"You'll see it differently when a man touches you. When he looks at you and you know he could be the one with whom you can be happy."

"What do you mean, Gret?"

"You shall keep your mouth when I speak, Silly cunt."

Too much? Have I messed it up?

But Guilette did not let her fear be noticed. She was clear that Ghorash could kill her with a muscle twitch, if she wanted to. Immediately, all the present orcs stare to Breton.

"Pwahaha!" The laughing sounded to the former chief. "Where get a Breton noble such expressions?"

"This ... was a quote from Gortwok gro-Orsinium, which he expressed at the meeting with Emperor Attrebus Mede II. in Nova-Orsinium."

"Do you really not notice what came out from your mouth?" Ghorash yells. "You quote, imitate and try to copy our culture. But you can not imitate the feeling of our life. You're just a scholar and not an orc."

I wish it would be different. But how am I able to change that?

"That's true. I am not able to do more because of my birth."

"But it is more than any other breton is willing to do far and wide," supported Gaturn. "We should not criticize what she makes false or wrong, but what she does and do right."

Gharash snapped and shook her head. "If you think so."

Gaturn took her hand again, but it was trembled. "All right?" He whispered to her.

She smiled at him. "Yes. For sure."

He leaned closer to her and smelt of her.

Oh no. The washing! Please do not. He smells that I have not washed.

He growled and then turned around. "Mother? Could we ever start eating?"

"Mhh? Yes." She stood up and brought the first food to the table. An Ashpotatosalad with cheese sauce. A bowl of peeled grapes and cold noodles in a fruity broth and a juicy skewer with roasted pumpkin and potato slices.

by the Gods, that looks good.

"This is the starter menu," declared the mother, and Gaturn laid a large portion of everything on the plate. "Here, eat. You need that." Guilette began eating and devoured it formally.

"At least she can eat like an orc," Gharash said. "Why does she need that?" The father asked. "She is pregnant?"

Gaturn wide opened his eyes and looked guiltily at Guilette. She sighed. "No. I'm not. I ... " She blushed.

"Ey. You have to be honest at the table," said Gharash.

I know honesty is the greatest respect one can give to hosts and friends.

"My father ..." The chief gave a despised growl. "He was not so enthusiastic that I met Gaturn and that I want to eat with his orcish family today."

"That was to be expected from the old buck," said the mother. "What does this have to do with food?"

Guilettes's sight fell to the ground. It was unpleasant to her.

"He locked you up again, right?" Gaturn asked. He knew she was embarrassed, but they sat at the table, there were no embarrassments. She nodded.

"Without food? How long has he locked you up?" Asked the mother. Guilette took a deep breath. "Three days. This morning I climbed out of the window to not miss this meeting."

"Oh sweetie." Said the Mother almost miserably. "Nothing to eat for three days. Here, take some more." She put more on the plate from the salad and Guilette thanked her by a nod.

"The war has been over for decades!" The chief yelled. "When does he finally understand that?"

As Guilette looked up from the plate she saw directly into Gharash's eyes. Her disinterested look became a questioning one.

"Did he hit you too?" Asked the sister.

Immediately Guilettes sight fell on the ground.

Gaturn gave a loud "Pah!". "You with your crazy theories. It is a great step between the imprisonment of the own breed and the beating of this."

Gaturn grabbed her arm and stroked her.

You unaware lovable bear ...

"I want her to say it. She must be honest. Tradition and so on."

Guilette took a deep breath. "Yes, he did."

"Often?"

"Almost daily."

Gaturn immediately opened his eyes. "What? By Mauloch's wrinkled ass? He's beating you?!"

She gave a distressed smile and shrugged.

"By the gods!" He hit the table. The chief shook his head, and the mother sighed.

"The beating of his own brood ... if Malacath would be aware of this, he would crush him to the dust of his plain."

"I'm not as strong as an orc, I'm afraid."

"That has nothing to do with strength at all," declared the mother and went out her candle. "This is just the weakness of your father."

"A home should be a place of security. A place where you leave all problems behind you and not the place where you are greeted by new problems," said Gharash.

Did she just support me ...? A light at the end of the tunnel!

"Wait," said Gaturn. "Did he allow you to be here?" She shook her head. "And when you go home again, he will ..."

"Probably."

"Do you have feelings for your father?" The chief asked.

"No. They've been away for a long time. "

The father took an Orichalcum dagger and handed it to Breton. "Then you should be able to fight back."

"Typical Bretons. No sense of honor, these idiots."

And in less than 24 hours, Guilette would kill her father in self-defense with these weapons. She will laugh. She will cry. She will finally be happy and free again.

But now there was another candle.