Khal translated, the words taking far longer for him.
She was leading us inside. She pulled at his hands, his arm, did not touch me. Khal slipped an arm free to keep me from falling, help me over the stoop.
I expected the house to be dark inside, like commoners’ houses usually were. Instead a fire burned cheerily in the center, and glowing fungi in various colors traced between the rafters. An older orc man, thin and severe, sat by the fire. He did not look at us. Khal greeted him verbally, and he did not respond.
The quiet was paralyzing as the old woman fetched gourds down from the rafters, and started ladling some kind of stew into each. Khal murmured thanks and I attempted to mimic him, though my tongue stumbled. She nodded tightly. Khal was drinking his out of the gourd- maybe spoons weren’t a thing here- and I tried it. It tasted rich, like butter and kidney and cabbage. And suddenly I was so hungry that I felt like I had a hollow inside.
Khal watched me, started to give me part of his, and the old woman’s voice scolded, took my bowl to ladle in more.
“Thank you,” I said. She didn’t answer.
A voice boomed in Common behind us. “Someone told me I could find my son and daughter-in-law in here!”
I turned to meet Piotr Drazha’s-Husband for the first time.
Khal’s fatherwas shorter than him, slighter, maybe only a few inches taller than I was. He carried a gnarled and polished walking stick, and it took me a moment to register that heneeded it- one of his legs was decidedly shorter than the other one. His eyes were bright, fierce, and he was the only person in this house of suffocating silence that smiled.
He wagged a finger at Khal. “I understand some hiding from your mother after that cheeky stunt, but from your old man? Are you trying to make me die of anticipation?”
“Apologies.” Khal’s voice was tight.
“Now, no apologies here! This is time for celebration! Our family grows at last! Do you know how long this rascal has been avoiding the nuptial noose, daughter-‘o’-mine?”
“Dad. Not that.” There was a warning in his tone.
“Fine. Fine! But don’t stand around here like strangers. Take a seat! I’m sure your grandpappy won’t mind, will you, grandpappy?” He repeated himself in Orcish. The old man didn’t even shrug. “See? He’s fine! Gather round, gather round.”
“We’re fine. We should be leaving soon?—"
“Are you sure about that?” He tipped his head at me, still firmly standing in the path of our exit. “Because your wife looks like she’s swaying on her feet.”
I clenched my legs, tried not to sway. Khal was already frowning.
“Fine,” he said icily. “We’ll rest for a bit.”
Khal’s father dragged his staff across the floor. “Good, good! Sit, sit!”
I sat as close to Khal and as far from everyone else as I could, trying to look comfortable and not like the atmosphere was killing me. Khal was wooden, block-shouldered.
“So Rowena was your name, wasn’t it?”
Khal winced.
I stuttered. “I…yes.”
“I’m told you had quite the harrowing journey here.”
I nodded.
“Killed one of the blood cats, too, they tell me,” his eyes shone.
“Your son killed one too.”
“Did he? He forgets to brag about himself.” He tapped Khal’s shoulder. “We need more people around here who recognize his worth, wouldn’t you agree?”
I kept the smile. Khal was eating, tense, and…oh, there were spoons on the side of the gourds, I hadn’t seen them before. I pulled out mine, tried to copy him instead of drinking meat out of a bowl. What must I look like to him?
“So Rowena. Tell us about yourself.”
