Beauty and the Orc

Vanya's never seen an Orc before. She'd heard of them, of course, about how hideous and cruel and evil they were. All that she heard, however, did not stop her from tending to a wounded Orc she found in her father's barn, though she didn't know what it was at first. What will happen as she and the orc slowly learn to trust each other?
(Hi guys! Because I am so obsessed with LOTR, I am going to try a fan fic! Please comment, like,fav, and please leave feedback! And also, it's kind of like a crossover with LOTR and Beauty and the Beast :/ )
WARNING: A fair amount of swearing.


5. Mind Your Ps & Qs

And so days passed in this routine. Vanya would bring Gnash his food each day and stay for a little while just talking to him. He was often rude and morbid, but she suspected that was about the best she could expect from an orc. After all, it wasn't as if they were experts on manners so she felt some of what he did and said was somewhat forgivable. She did try very hard to get him to stop calling her and her father such insulting names. He did do this for her eventually, perhaps because she told him she wouldn't help him anymore if he didn't stop.

She thought it sad that he only responded well to threats. When she looked at him, she could see what would make the orcs such a hated race. Fangs and blood red eyes weren't exactly a very popular look with the public. When she listened to everything he told her, though, it was like a glimpse into a life as horrible as his face.

He never did tell her very much, he often sneered that her delicate nature couldn't handle the gore he'd faced. She disagreed and prompted him to tell her. Gnash would always refuse to let slip more than a few details, however she was almost grateful because those details were more than enough to make her want to cry and vomit at once.

Orcish life, from the few things she heard, was nearly completely about survival. By servicing Sauron and his lesser puppet Saruman, they could live. In battle, they feared only their master because fear in battle would bring his wrath. That fact surprised her and, though she kept it to herself, it seemed to be very brave. They feared only fear itself, because that fear would be their undoing.

There was one day in particular that she would remember for the rest of her life. She'd brought him the typical meal of bread, meat, and water. But she'd added in something special that she'd made just before going to him. It was a piece of blueberry pie, the blueberries were the last of the ones that she'd canned that past summer and she felt that her guest should have a share of it.

He'd stared at it with confusion. "What's that?" He poked it with one finger suspiciously.

"It's called blueberry pie. It's very sweet." She informed him shyly. "It's my mother's recipe and she was a good cook."

"Not as good as you, I bet. I've never had stuff like this." She heard him say and she sucked in a quick breath, sure that she'd heard wrong. He picked at the dessert, just barely tasting it as if he were afraid it was poisoned. Then he took a bite and his whole face changed to an expression of..well, she couldn't really tell if it was delight, but he definitely approved.

He sat there after he'd finished, licking his fingers. She blushed and looked away, secretly pleased that someone seemed to like her cooking. Her father had winced ever so slightly while he was trying to force down his portion. She could barely stomach it herself. "So are you feeling any better?"

He grinned, baring the fangs that she'd gradually grown used to. Then he pushed himself up and out of his sitting position. He wobbled at first, but was able to stand straight after a bit of practice. His first step forward was a success, as was his third and fourth. However, when he took his fifth step, his knees buckled out from under him and would have fallen if she hadn't rushed over and caught him.

She gasped when she realized what she'd done. She'd crossed the line that she'd set for herself. The safe distance that she constantly had between them was no more and he could easily kill her now. Even in his weakened state, he was twice as strong as her.

She closed her eyes, waiting to feel his treacherous hands around her neck. Instead she felt a talon graze her cheek. "Thank you." She opened her eyes in confusion to see that his own red, cat-like ones were only inches from hers.

"Did you just say what I think you said?" She asked him breathlessly.

He winked and she nearly fainted with shock. She didn't think her heart could take much more of this! "You have been drilling' manners into my head, some of it must of stuck."

"It must have." She said as she helped him sit back down. "It's getting late, my father will worry if I'm not back at the house soon. Goodnight, Gnash." She waved at him, still not quite comprehending what had gone on.

Gnash watched her leave, his eyes as fiery as coals in the darkness."She'd better come back tomorrow." He grumbled to himself as he pulled the quilt over him and settled into dark dreams. "Or I'll rip her head off."

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