“You cry.” Sniffing and wiping my eyes, I nod. They won’t stop, and there’s nothing I can do.

  “Why?” Lur’s voice is gentle, and she is walking next to me for a change. Light catching in the liquid sparkles, making the forest seem magical.

  “I’m sorry, I was thinking about –“ A sob slips out, loud against the background noises. Drawing myself up, I push my feelings down. It’s more difficult now. Taking the medicine my mum got for me to stop being a boy and start being a girl has made my emotions closer to the surface than ever. I have cried more in the last year than I ever cried before that. My emotions fill my whole body now. And the rage that I felt most days at the smallest inconvenience has subsided almost completely. It is a mixed blessing.

  A sidelong glance reveals Lur is looking at me with pursed lips. It was rude to cry in front of her. She shouldn’t need to see this. “I’m sorry, I’m fine. I can keep going.”

  She hmms for a moment before moving ahead quickly. I can’t let my first meeting with the Treeborn people to be with puffy eyes and a red face. Its bad enough having to deal with me at all.

  ---

  Lur stands in front of a shrub for a long moment, seemingly fascinated by it. I can’t see anything special about it, but after a moment, the bush speaks.

  “Lurken?” A head pops out from inside the greenery, its pointed ears and big eyes darting everywhere. The rest of the words exchanged between the two orcs is like music. I catch ‘town’ and ‘Elle’ but apart from that, I have no idea what they’re saying.

  The sentry, or guard, I suppose, seems agitated, but before long, Lur (lurken?) looks satisfied and strides off. I hurry after her, leaving the bush just as it was – the orc inside disappearing in a few moments. How many of those have I walked past without know they’re there? The thought of orcs being invisible in the forest around me is terrifying. Although, knowing that some of them are friends of Lur helps.

  I see the tents first. Some traders camped outside the town walls, though their tents weren’t as tall as these. And the stick which held them up didn’t go through the middle. Orc are everywhere, though many of them are gathered in groups, talking amongst themselves. Their language is beautiful, threading together through the trees. I wish I could speak as beautifully as them. My voice is harsh and grating.

  Most sit on benches, constructed from pieces of timber somehow holding together and bending with the weight of the people sitting on them. There are no fires, but I can see a big circle of rocks with blackened soil in the middle. That must be the firepit. I can see where the main walking areas are, because the leaves on the ground are darker from where they’ve been squashed. A few orcs look at me for a moment, but when they notice I’m behind Lur they look away quickly. Better than staring longer, I suppose.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Treeborn?” I whisper, indicating the camp around us.

  Lur nods, though I can see her biting her lip. Her eyes dart between me and one tent in particular. I can see an orc walking into the tent as Lur stands nervously in front of me.

  “Your family?” I ask, pointing.

  She nods. “Will you meet?” she asks softly. I see vulnerability. Concern. Is that because of me, or because of her family.

  “I can wait outside while you go in?” I suggest. That’s normally how these things go. Except I can’t go home while I wait this time.

  “No – please meet family?” her hands clasped together are white knuckled as she asks.

  “You want me to meet them?” I ask incredulously. She nods, a hopeful smile tugging at her lips.

  “Yes. Yes of course.” I gush. She actually wants to introduce me to her family. This is amazing! I can’t believe it – the first person to introduce me to their family is an orc.

  A huge grin bursts onto her face, radiating warmth. She steps forwards and wraps me in a hug, her chest pressing against my buds. I sink into the embrace despite being in the middle of an orc camp, arms coming up to wrap around her in return. She is good at hugs. And very warm.

  I could stand there with my arms around her forever, but she pulls back, lips pursed and brow furrowed.

  “What’s wrong?” I blurt, worried I’ve hurt her somehow.

  “Noone met family before.” She bites her lip, shoulders tense under my palms.

  “Noone?” I ask confused. “What about friends?”

  She shakes her head.

  “I can stay outside. Then you don’t have to introduce me.” I swallow against the lump that rises in my throat. I knew it was too good to be true. Meeting a family is a big step for someone to take with me.

  To my surprise, the suggestion has the opposite effect I intended. Her hands grip my waist possessively and a muscle in her jaw pulses.

  “No. You meet.” She nods decisively, stepping back to take my hand in hers. “You meet.” She repeats firmly. I nod, a smile creeping onto my face.

  “I will meet them with you.”

  Her lips twitch upwards, though she maintains her stern expression.

  “Yes. Come.” Her tone sends a thrill through me, all the way down to my core, as she heads towards the tent. The outside of the tent is decorated with sigils and figures which are surrounded by patterns. The patterns divide the area into different scenes, though I can’t tell what the scenes are supposed to represent. It is nothing like the rigid images of the empire. Art in town, and from the cities is mostly blocky. This feels like the wind through the trees, catching the eye in different places and gently moving it towards and through the panels. It feels happy.

  I wonder if they’re a happy family. I can’t hear anything bad coming from inside the tent. That’s usually how I can tell if someone is unhappy. They don’t try to hide it from the rest of the town. The happiest place in town was the tavern – although that could change in a heartbeat. That was only part of the reason why I stayed away from it.

  Lur stops several paces away from the tent flap, taking a deep breath. Her musical voice slides in through the opening, exclamations coming from within. In a few moments, the tent flap is thrust aside, and a darker green brown skinned orc comes out, pulling Lur into a big hug. Maybe that’s where she gets her good hugs from.

  The orc sees me, pulling me into a big hug too. It’s a good hug, but it doesn’t feel the same as Lur hugging me. I push that thought aside, smiling at the hugger. It disappears into the tent, gesturing for us to follow. Lur’s hand lands in mine immediately as she pulls me into the tent