Finding a path

(Style: fantasy adoption story. Rating: 2/5 (soft ABDL), CW: heroic-fantasy setting, goblin, orc, mentions of death and sickness, diaper use (wet).)

“War is over” croaked someone around the campfire.

After an awkward moment of silence, Blikk simply answered: “Yup”.

There were half a dozen of them, huddled around the meager flame. The battlefield was only a stone throw away, silent as a crypt now that the heat of battle had died down. Crows were having a feast while survivors were trying to decide what to do next.

Blikk was warming his feet near the fire. Around the flickering source of heat, there were nothing but greenskins, leftovers from an entire legion of soldiers. None of them looked in a hurry to leave their makeshift campment.

Four goblins, including Blikk himself, who looked so different from each other - save for the color of their skin - that you could easily believe they were from different species. One gnarly hobgoblin, his gray skin riddled with scars, sporting a sour expression as he tried to clean up the remnants of his armor. And finally a mutant, too dumb to even remember its own name; an uneven mass of muscles and bone under a puke-colored skin, watching the flames dance like it was the most fascinating show ever performed.

“And now what?” croaked the same voice. It belonged to a goblin of indeterminate gender with a crooked nose and large yellow eyes. “What should we do now?”

The hobgoblin sprung back to life and spoke with verve, passion even. “It’s easy! We gather the survivors, reform a mercenary company, and sell our services to the nearest warring kingdom!”

Blikk, gifted by birth with dark hair on his head, raised an unkempt eyebrow.

The hobgoblin flailed his hands around and sputtered saliva as he further declared: “There’s always a war going on somewhere! We have survived a battle, we can sell ourselves for an even higher price! Riches await us just over the horizon, my friends! It is our purpose, nay, our destiny to be on the battlefield!”

Blikk lowered his eyebrow only to raise the other one. He had survived the battle unscathed only because he owned a cheap crossbow and could stay away from the front lines. The poor sods who only had rusty knives and wooden shields weren’t as lucky as him…

But the hobgoblin was an officer, and like most people of his race, he thrived in war. He was made to give out orders, and dying gloriously on the battlefield was his biggest dream. Of course he would push for more war.

The unconvinced goblin thought it was a stupid idea. He spat out the blade of grass he was chewing on and stood up.

“Nah, I’m good. I think I’m done with war.”

Everyone around the campfire - save for the idiotic mutant - turned their heads towards him. The hobgoblin looked like he had been personally slapped in the face by the interruption.

“What?” spat the officer. “What is this, fool? There is none purpose more glorious than dying in battle!”

Blikk shrugged as he gathered his meager possessions. “I dunno. I’ve done war once today, and honestly, I’m not interested in this ‘dying’ thing. Bad deal, if you ask me.”

Doubt spread to the other goblins gathered around the flame. They didn’t want to die, either, even if the pay was supposedly good - most of them didn’t know how to count. The officer, however, scoffed.

“And what would you do, then, squirt? What purpose would you chase? A single powerless little thing like you could never achieve greatness. You’ll be dead meat by the end of the week without the protection of an army of your peers. Tell me your plans, if you’re so sure of your success!”

This was a lot more philosophical than usual for the little group, but they all turned towards Blikk, eager to hear his answer. The goblin flicked his large pointy ears a couple of times to give himself time to think.

He couldn’t find a clever answer to that question. He didn’t know himself what he was going to do.

“Well…” he finally muttered, “us goblins are good at lotsa things. Many more things than war. I only joined the war because I left my tribe, and it was right there. Maybe I’ll try other things until I find one that I like? It’s no good dying for someone who doesn't care about me, just because I’m small and there’s a thousand of me around, anyway.”

The other three goblins were shaken by the argument. The one with the croaky voice and crooked nose clutched their forearm, where a hand was still attached this morning - but not anymore. One by one, they stood up and gathered near Blikk, silently hoping he would lead them to something better. The hobgoblin, seeing that he would be left alone with the idiot mutant, spat on the ground in disgust. (The mutant spat as well, as if it didn’t want to be left out of this fun activity.)

Blikk turned his back on the fire and walked away in the night, the other goblins following his trail. As they left the safety of the bonfire, they heard the hobgoblin cursing them one last time.

“Miserable idiots! I offered you glory and you’re running away! You will never amount to anything if you leave today. You will all die meaningless deaths under the claws of a beast, or the blade of an adventurer in quest of cheap thrills! I wish you all to die alone and forgotten!”

Without turning to face him, Blikk threw a lewd hand gesture behind his back. “And I wish an ogre will sit on you so you’ll die gasping for air!”

Accompanied by a chorus of snickers and chortles, Blikk left a promising career as cannon fodder in some evil overlord’s legion, in quest of a better life.

***

Highway bandit?

Yeah, I could do that. I could totally do that.

I got friends with me and we have weapons, all we need is a plan. A single wagon would be an easy target for an ambush. We stop the horses, circle the wagon, and have them give out their riches. Four goblins is better than one human in a wagon. We will steal food and gold that will last us for weeks! This is the way to go!

Our heist went badly. We tried to rob the wrong wagon, there were humans and elves in it. They came out with swords and magic, laughing at us. It was like I was back in the war again, the noise, the screams. All the others got killed in no time, but I got lucky and escaped. I was too hasty and left my crossbow behind when I ran away. I’ve lost my companions of fortune. I’m sad and alone again.

Maybe being a highway bandit is not a good life for me.

Thief?

Yeah, I could do that. I could totally do that.

I am small and silent. I got eyes that see in the dark and ears that hear the tiniest mouse. It’s no wonder many goblins are thieves: we were made for this! All I have to do is sneak around a group of adventurers when they sleep. Just one of their fat purses will provide enough for a whole year! And I don’t need to share the loot with others. It’s a foolproof plan!

I found a small group sleeping in the forest today. They had gold and food, and I was hungry. I sneaked around but the damn humans had a dog, a huge one! It was as tall as me, and it had many pointy teeth! It barked and growled and woke up everyone. I dodged two arrows as I ran away in the trees, but I lost my good knife during the chase. I think I escaped them. Maybe they were too tired to follow me. This is much more dangerous than I thought.

Maybe being a thief is not a good life for me.

Woodsman?

Yeah, I could do that. I could totally do that.

I don’t care for friends or adventurers. I can live on my own in the woods! I’ll survive with what the land gives me. I got a sharp stick I can use as a spear to hunt rabbits. I’ll eat their meat and only come back to a village to sell their pelts. I’ll be my own goblin, living my life without chains! I’ll be the best predator in these woods, one that prey will learn to fear! Why didn’t I think of this earlier?

It’s not going well. There are too many hunters in these woods. Rabbits run away from me before I can get close enough to skewer them. It’s cold and lonely at night, but I can’t sleep because the wolves are roaming around. I had to eat berries from a bush I didn’t know to calm down the hunger in my belly.

The berries are not agreeing with me. I puked twice. Water from the nearby stream tastes bad. I’m trying to get back to a village but the trees are too tall and I can’t see the sun or the stars to find my way around.

A wolf tried to eat me today. Or was it a big cat? I can’t tell. I think I have a fever. I had to eat more of the berries but they don’t fill me, they make me throw up from every hole.

I’m following a path. I think it leads to a city. I hope they will have food I can steal. But I’m not sure I have enough strength to walk all the way there.

Fell in a ditch on the side of the road. My stomach hurts. I need some sleep to recover. Just a few minutes, I promise.

Maybe being a woodsman is not a good life for me.

…

I’m so hungry…

***

It took Blikk a long time to regain consciousness after he woke up. His eyes were open without seeing; the lights were on, but nobody was home. As his senses came back to him one by one, he noticed a few things.

First, he was warm. It was the dry, cozy warmth of being inside and protected from the elements. It reminded him of long winter nights, in the cave that served as his tribe’s communal kitchen, looking at the central fire as he snuggled under a blanket. One thing for sure: he wasn’t lying in that ditch outside anymore.

Second, he was fed. His stomach was full and had stopped torturing him for a meager crumb of food. He hadn’t felt this way very often before. Maybe that time where he snatched a roasted piglet all to his own and ate until he couldn’t stand up anymore? Still, he was struck by the comfortable dizziness that comes after eating too much, and he liked it.

And as the sensations slowly returned to his body, he noticed a third, and most pressing, sensation. He needed to pee.

Well, even the mightiest of kings have to answer the call of nature…

Blikk blinked twice and flicked his ears, now fully awake. Time to see with his own eyes where he ended up.

He was inside a house of some kind, with walls made of wooden logs. Currently, he was inside a small room with no windows. He heard the roaring sound of a fire somewhere outside the room - in a kitchen, he guessed.

The goblin was lying on a bed much too big for himself, and he looked lost in the middle of a sea of furs. Whoever brought Blikk in had tucked him under a blanket, some kind of soft animal pelt. Were it not for his bladder, he would have loved to stay a little longer hidden underneath the furs.

Still, Blikk fumbled under the covers for a second and emerged from the blanket. To his surprise, he was wearing different clothes. He usually sported a mish-mash of various clothing, pilfered here and there and rarely fitting him properly. But now, he was wearing a single, clean linen shirt, just big enough to cover him from shoulders to waist. The head hole looked a bit too big for his build, exposing one of his shoulders.

And there was something else he discovered as he crawled on the bed. Someone had fastened underwear around his waist, which felt odd to Blikk as he was not really used to wearing any. But it must have been several sizes too big, because the thing was huge. Thick like several layers of cloth on top of each other, stuck in place with a couple of metal pins, and it looked positively enormous on his (usually unremarkable) buttocks.

The goblin looked at his accoutrement with an air of incomprehension, then decided that he would remove them later, if necessary. He had better things to think about right now. For instance, he remembered to ask the two most essential goblin questions:

“Where’s the exit if I need to flee?” and “Is there something I can steal?”.

But as the little green thief stood up on his wiggly legs, trying to find footing on the soft surface of the bed, he heard the trample of steps coming his direction. Steps coming from someone heavy and in a hurry. Blikk briefly considered hiding back under the blanket, but a massive silhouette quickly entered the room, and the goblin couldn’t repress a swear.

An orc! A huge, massive, hulking orc!

The only common grounds between goblin and orc had were the greenish tint of their skin. While Blikk was small, frail and nimble, the orc was immense, towering over him by several feet of height, and so muscular as to be as wide as he was tall. The monstrous creature’s general appearance was decidedly male, with thick skin peppered with scars and rough unkempt hairs. Every square inch of his body seemed tailor-made for one thing only: brutal and relentless combat.

As soon as the orc saw Blikk, he let out a growl akin to a ferocious beast. In two steps, he closed the distance between the door and the bed, baring his teeth, tusks pointed forward like knives. One more step, and his monstrous hand was reaching to him, ready to strike.

Blikk squealed a pathetic cry of terror and rolled himself into a ball. He was done for, he knew it. Ogres, you could bribe with food; bugbears, you could barter for freedom, but orcs? Orcs were brutal killing machines who would cleave a dozen goblins in half with a single swing of their sword. Blikk closed his eyes. He was only delaying the inevitable.

Moments stretched into an eternity. He simply couldn’t stop screaming, his voice outside of his own control. The monster’s hand was going to grab him, and he’ll be dead… Any moment now…

But the hand never came. No claws to grab him and rip him apart. His screams died down on their own. Something was taking too long to attack the helpless goblin. To his surprise, it was a different pair of hands that reached out to him, and it didn’t even try to kill him..

“Don’t cry, baby boy!” shouted a voice that sounded rough, yet warm. “Mama is here! Don’t cry!”

There was a sudden movement, and Blikk found himself flying through the air until he stopped, disoriented.

Holding him under his armpits with two strong hands, a different orc was handling the goblin. Blikk guessed that this orc must be female, as her features were slightly less rough than the other killing machine. That, and her chest was noticeably bigger.

Her attitude, however, was completely different. Her face was positively beaming, her mouth grinning a wide smile that clearly featured every tooth between her two short tusks. It wasn’t a desire for murder that illuminated her eyes, but a genuine excitement to see the little goblin. In his mind, Blikk nicknamed her "Lady", as it looked like an appropriate name.

She squeezed him against her chest, so tight that Blikk expelled all the air in his lungs. She was handling him with a certain clumsiness, like a little girl would handle a ragdoll. A huge and exceedingly powerful little girl. She began to coo at him:

“Who’s awake from his little nappy-nap? It’s ye, yes it’s ye! Mama’s beautiful baby! Ah’m so sorry daddy scared you off, but dinnae worry! Mama is here for ye! Ye dinnae have to be scared of anythin’!”

Nappy-nap?

Baby?

Mama?

… Daddy??

The last minute of panic had robbed Blikk of all his usual craftiness. He looked around the room feverishly, looking for an escape. Instead, he found the other orc, the monster that could have killed him a few moments ago - he decided to call him "the Brute". The Brute darted a death glare at the goblin, enough to revive the feeling of dread in him. Without a word, the orc left the room, leaving Blikk in the embrace of the slightly nicer orc. Somehow, this didn’t make him feel any better.

Lady shuffled the goblin around in her arms, and Blikk felt a pressure around his loins. A warm, damp and firm pressure.

“Did mah baby made an oopsie-whoopsie?” asked the greenish woman in an all-too-cheery tone.

The goblin got startled. His nose dived down as he nervously checked where Lady's hand was currently patting his strange bulky underwear.

It took him a few seconds to understand what must have happened. It’s true that he had woken up with a strong desire to pee, and it’s also true that his encounter with the Brute was the most terrifying thing he had witnessed in his life. It was only logical that the two would combine in some way. Furthermore, it would be lying to pretend Blikk had never relieved himself in the heat of action. But he had never worn underwear in these situations, and especially not underwear made for this exact purpose.

There was not a drop of liquid leaking out of his pants. The accident had been contained inside the many layers of fabric. If Lady wasn’t currently squishing them, Blikk wouldn’t even have noticed what had happened.

And he wished she stopped doing that. It was frankly embarrassing. Goblins can’t blush, only shift to a slightly different shade of green. If he had been from another species, he would have looked a lot rosier right now.

“Mama will take care o’ that!” cheered the orc, before firmly planting a kiss on Blikk’s cheek.

Woah! Another thing he wasn’t used to experiencing, which made him feel weird and tingly inside. The goblin couldn’t recall the last time anyone had given him a peck on the cheek. It must have been before he learned how to walk, in these fuzzy times of early childhood. So, so far away…

No time for nostalgia, however. Just as quickly as she had lifted him up from the bed, Lady laid him down on the pelt once more. With surprisingly nimble fingers considering each of them looked dangerous enough to kill, she undid the pins on the side of his garment and flapped it open, exposing his midsection.

Blikk expected an acrid smell to rise from his loins, not unlike a makeshift outhouse in a crowded war camp. But while the smell was present in subtle notes, there was also something floral overpowering it. Did that orc perfumed his nethers when she put the oversized underwear on him? That sounded ridiculous.

Now that he was free from the bulky underwear, Blikk tried to wiggle his way out, jump on his feet and run away. But Lady was reactive and simply put him back on the pelt each time. She was every bit as strong as she looked and could probably wrap her two large hands around his entire body with no effort. Blikk stood no chance.

Despite his silent protest, he had to endure a strange little ritual where the woman cleaned his loins thoroughly. First with a damp cloth, then with a dry one, all the while humming a tune he did not recognize. Blikk was rubbed in places he didn’t even know he had.

Lady then dusted him with a sweet-smelling powder before producing a similar garment from under the bed. Unsoiled, of course. With dextrous hands, she wrapped the new underwear around his legs, locking it in place with two metallic pins.

This had been the single weirdest experience in the tiny goblin’s life. Not unpleasant, but odd. The fact that the orc looked positively cheery all the way was even odder.

The world blurred around him once more as he went from a prone to a standing up-position in Lady’s arms. “Yer a good boy!” she claimed, before planting another kiss on his forehead. Again with the kissing! Again with the tingling sensation inside! Blikk’s day couldn’t get any weirder than this…

Now matter how much he wished for it, Lady was obviously not ready to let the goblin go away. Holding him tightly, she moved them to another room of the small house. The Brute was sitting at what looked like a dinner table, currently ripping the meat clean off a bone with his teeth. She sat on another chair in front of him, placing Blikk on her lap as if it was the most natural thing to do.

Blikk’s eyes widened. There was meat on the table, which summoned a persistent tingle in his stomach. Even though he wasn’t hungry, his instincts screamed at him to grab some food and run. He didn’t know when the next meal would be, and he might need reserves of energy for later. It was almost uncontrollably that he reached for the plate with his little grabby fingers.

The Brute violently slammed his fist on the table and growled, prompting Blikk to retreat immediately.

Lady kindly wrapped her arms around him in a protective move. “Aww, the poor baby must be hungry!” she declared. “But ye gotta wait a bit more, lil’ thing. Mama needs to fill back up first!” For added emphasis, she gave a playful bounce to one of her breasts.

It took a second for the information to click in the goblin’s mind. Oh… so that was why he was full when he woke up. Blikk felt dizzy from the many conflicting emotions that rushed through his head. Goblins usually wean after only a few weeks, and the thought that he had nursed again was simply too much to handle. If his skin hadn't been green, he’d be beet red by now.

But the womanly orc sat him on the table, in reach from the Brute, and continued: “Hold on, ah think of somethin’ that will keep ye busy while ye wait!”

She left to grab something in the cupboards behind him. The male orc was slowly gnawing on a bone, his dark eyes pointed directly at the small greenskin. He did not blink once. Blikk was so terrified of him that he didn’t so much as move an inch, waiting eagerly for Lady to return - as it looked like she could protect him from a violent outburst.

She came back with what looked like a rag, twisted on itself to form a vague cone. The pointy end of it glistened with a strange oily substance that Blikk had never seen before. She pointed it towards the goblin. “Alright, lil’ one, open up!”

Milk from her breast was one thing - he wasn’t even awake when she had fed him - but Blikk was unwilling to put any kind of substance in his mouth until someone else had proven that it wasn’t poison. It was by instinct that he began to reply:

“I don’t wanna-”

But the Brute's gaze became even harsher, if such a thing was possible; he shot a glare towards Blikk that would have probably started a fire if he had aimed it at a piece of wood. The goblin let his sentence trail off in a babble of nonsense, hoping to hide his original meaning:

“-nanawah bah glaaaaaah…”

Lady looked delighted to hear him cooing. Defeated, he opened his mouth with a resigned expression. She slipped the tip of the rag between his lips, and…

The world stopped moving.

Never before in his life had Blikk tasted something as sweet as honey.

At best, he had munched on sweet-sour berries. Sugar was a luxury that he could only dream of tasting, even just a pinch.

Like a dam breaking under pressure, the strange new taste burst through his mind, flooding every part of his brain with a powerful, overwhelming sensation. He wanted this moment to never stop.

Instinctively, his tongue licked the twisted rag clean and he began to suckle on it, trying to extract every drop of the sweet golden juice from it.

Lady said something along the lines of “Good boy!” and sat him on her lap once again. The two orcs started to exchange words, but Blikk was so far gone that he only vaguely perceived their voices. He was entirely absorbed in the moment, in this blissful new experience.

He noted that on this day, the strangest one he ever had to live through, the good moments started to outweigh the bad ones…

From that point onwards, Blikk decided to let go and offer the least amount of resistance. He let Lady play with him like a doll, knowing that the Brute was watching over them like a hawk, his eyes full of contempt and barely contained aggression.

The orc woman didn’t let go of him all day. She walked him around the house, propped him on various surfaces - some soft, some hard - and presented him with a series of wooden toys, obviously home-made. He selected a rattle to shake around, and she applauded his choice like it meant anything.

Several times throughout the day, she carefully peeked inside Blikk’s underwear to see if he had let another accident happen. He very much did not, and every check flustered him more.

Whenever she did so, she would always follow by giving him a kiss. It was more kisses than Blikk had received in his entire life, and while it befuddled him to notice how many times she expected him to pee, he didn’t complain. He loved it, even.

If you removed the constant threat oozing from the Brute, this was all kinds of fun.

It was late in the day when Lady handed Blikk to the male orc, instructing him:

“Ah’m gonna clean up outside a bit. Couldya bring the baby to our room an’ check if he’s all good?”

The Brute grabbed the goblin by the hem of his linen shirt with an annoyed expression, and walked them both to the bedroom, Blikk’s legs flailing in the air uselessly as he did. He wished he could touch the ground at least once today.

Once they entered the room, he unceremoniously grabbed the garment between the goblin’s legs and gave it a pronounced full-handed pinch. Even through the layers of cloth, Blikk could feel his strong grip - not enough to hurt, but enough to remind him that it could hurt. But the goblin was as dry as ever, and the grab ceased quickly.

The orc then casually threw the goblin directly on the bed. Blikk let out a surprised yelp and bounced on the mattress, slightly disoriented.

“Listen, pipsqueak,” growled the mountain of muscles. “We need to talk.”

His voice was low and gravely, with just a touch of countryside accent. These were the first words the Brute had said to Blikk all day, and it lit up a flame deep within his mind. The goblin had kept it low until now, knowing that the orc would have resorted to violence if he had tried something funny… but talk? He knew how to talk. A little too much, some would say. Courage returned to him, and he jumped back on his feet, standing on the bed.

“Oh yah, really?” he replied mockingly. “I thought all you could do was growl.”

The Brute bared his teeth menacingly. “Don’t get cocky, squirt. Yer been playin’ along just fine today, ya better keep going, or else...”

Blikk, ever the expressive goblin, raised up an eyebrow and smirked. If you didn’t follow through, threats would lose their power, and so far the orc had yet to lift a finger against him.

Ignoring the goblin’s bravado, the Brute reached for a pocket on his belt. He produced a small wooden figure which he presented to the smaller of the two greenskins.

The figure was small, round, and roughly sculpted, the surface of the wood scarred with knife marks like the toys Blikk had played with earlier. After squinting for a moment, he understood what it was supposed to represent: a newborn baby, swaddled in a cloth that gave it its round shape. Its smile presented two tiny tusks, showing it was clearly meant to be an orcling.

Before he could ask what it was, the orc spoke, his baritone voice kept at a low level, like he was scared to be heard by someone.

“My wife an’ me can’t have kids.”

That was one hell of an opening, and Blikk’s ears perked up in attention.

“We tried everythin’. Potions, medicine herbs, talismans, prayers. We saw a shaman who told us to follow the phases o’ the Moon. None of it worked. I dunno who or what causes it, but it ain’t workin’.”

Maybe it was the hushing tone he was using, but the Brute seemed a lot less threatening now that he was revealing his deepest secrets to an incredulous Blikk.

“So she told me to climb the sacred mountain,” he continued, “and put this on a shrine.” He pointed at the misshapen wooden infant. “Said it would send a message to the gods and they would give us a miraculous child.”

He pocketed the miniature, teeth clenched. “But I know it ain’t gonna work either. Gods don’t care about us orcs, never did, so why woul’da start now, huh? But I still went to the mountain. ‘Cause I love her. ‘Cause that was worth a try.”

There was anger and sadness in the orc’s voice. For a brief moment, Blikk was moved, but quickly got back on his guard when the Brute darted his dark eyes at him.

“But on the way to the mountain, I foun’ ya. Barely breathin’ in a ditch.” It was the orc’s turn to raise an eyebrow in mockery. “Pathetic, really. Would be wolf’s dinner by the time the sun got down. Wouldna looked a second time. But…”

He scratched his chin, like he was concocting a masterful plan. “I said to meself: yer small, yer green, yer weak, ya can’t walk. Yer no orc, sure, but you’re close enuff to a young’un, right?”

The pieces of the proverbial jigsaw puzzle fell into place in Blikk’s mind. Everything that had happened suddenly made some amount of sense. A very small amount, stil, but it was something.

“So I picked ya up,” continued the orc, now proud of his own brilliance. “Put ya over my shoulder and bring ya home. I told my wife I found you on the mountain shrine. She was so happy, ya wouldn’t believe…” A genuine smile crossed the Brute's face. For all his rough exterior, he dearly loved his wife, more than anything.

“She’s a saint, ya know. She picked ya up right away, and she cleaned ya, fed ya, nursed ya back to health. You wouldna have lasted the night without her. So ya should be grateful to her!”

Without even thinking twice, Blikk nodded. He did owe her his life, and he should repay her in kind. Those things matter in the short and usually violent existence of a goblin. But if that meant keeping up that masquerade…

“Alright, alright, I get it!” interrupted the goblin. “What is it you want from me?”

The Brute snorted. “I told ya. My wife wants a baby. Ya’ll do just fine.”

Inside of Blikk’s head, the cogs were clicking at full speed while he stood there, indecisive, his ears twitching nervously. He had so many conflicting opinions about the situation...

He had been fed, dressed, given more care and attention than he had ever received in his life, that’s for sure. But he was also expected to babble like an infant, soil the garment around his loins, and be hoisted around like a simple ragdoll. Did he still have any freedom left in this situation? Could he ever return to his old life as an adult and independant goblin, if he wanted to?

Yet… would he want to return to his old life, though? A life of pain, misery and hunger? It’s not that he didn’t enjoy the day he had just lived through, but if he had to spend the rest of his life treated like an impotent orcling, he couldn’t… He did not like… It shouldn’t…

… What was his argument again?

Tempting fate, Blikk asked a simple question: “And what if I don’t wanna be your baby?”

Something in the Brute's glare changed, and the smile he was sporting vanished. Slowly, methodically, he approached the bed, his muscles unfurling as he did. It was like seeing a mountain moving towards you, slow yet terrifying. He leaned towards Blikk, his knuckles pressing on the mattress, and he kept advancing like some kind of green-skinned gorilla.

The goblin, taken aback by the silent aggression, tried to retreat, but between the soft mattress and the thick cloth between his legs, he lost his footing and fell back on his padded butt. The orc kept moving forward.

“Ya’re free to choose so…” His voice was deeper than it had ever been, yet barely over a whisper. “But if ya hurt my wife in any way… If ya break her heart by telling the truth, If ya make her cry for any reason…”

The Brute’s face was only inches away from the goblin, tusks grazing his nose, and his baritone voice sent tremors that Blikk could feel through his whole body as he threatened him:

“... Then I’ll rip ya apart with my own tusks and nails. I’ll tear yer entrails from that little belly of yers, and ya’ll beg me to end ya quickly. But I won’t. Got it?”

Blikk gulped. He saw the cold, murderous rage shining in the orc’s eyes, and it was worse than any roaring fit of rage he could ever throw at him. Without a word, he nodded. Yeah, he got that message, alright.

“Good. I trust ya to make the right choice.”

Out of nowhere, he reached for Blikk’s head and tousled his hair.

This came as such a whiplash to the goblin. One moment ago, the hulking orc was this close to killing him, right here and there. But the light ruffle on his head didn’t feel like an attack or a warning. It was genuine. The Brute’s strength was there, but contained. Careful. He could have crushed his skull just as easily, but he chose not to. It was as bizarre and precious as a stone golem trying to hold a kitten in its hands. Huge strength kept at bay by extreme carefulness...

Blikk was shocked when he realized he kind of enjoyed it. But the moment was all too short-lived.

“Awww, are ye two bonding?” interrupted the soft voice of Lady, who leaned on the bedroom’s door frame.

The Brute straightened up and swiftly removed his hand from Blikk’s head, like he had just been caught stealing a cookie from a jar. “Errr, nah, it’s, uh, I was just makin’ sure the baby wouldna fall off the bed, ‘tsall.”

It was kind of endearing seeing this incredible mass of muscles and death being flustered and failing so bad at lying. His wife certainly wasn’t fooled for a single moment.

“Oh it’s fine, love,” she cooed as she slowly approached him. “Ye dinnae have to be grumpy an’ dangerous all the time. Yer at home. With yer family. What danger is there to be scared of?”

The two embraced each other, and Blikk could plainly see the Brute melt between the arms of his wife. His shoulders relaxed, his fists stopped clenching, and his perpetual frown vanished. “Yeah, ya right love,” he whispered tenderly. “Yer always right.”

The two orcs gently rubbed their snout-like nose together, their tusks clacking against each other as they enjoyed the moment. Blikk could only guess this was how orcs kissed. It’s true that having such prominent tusks would make it hard for their lips to join…

Which made all the kisses he had received throughout the day a lot more meaningful, in retrospect. He had no tusks to get in the way, now, did he?

Blikk looked at them with curiosity. Displays of affection like these were not common to a greenskin like him. Tiny goblin toddlers get all the attention they require to grow up, but after that blissful and all too short period of their life, they were expected to pull their own weight. The world was a dangerous place to live in, and their existence was too short.

They were so busy trying to survive that they didn’t really have the time to live.

That got him thinking. Thinking harder than he usually did. But like coal turning into diamond, it was under pressure that Blikk gave the best of himself.

A sharp voice inside the goblin’s mind was screaming at him to get out, run away, disappear while he still had the chance. That this couple of orcs were like a carnivorous plant - sweet smelling and alluring, but only to attract flies and devour them. The longer he would stay here, the tighter the trap would be. He had to act now before it was too late.

But he didn’t want to. The Brute had made very clear what would happen to him if he betrayed them. And even without this threat, he couldn’t see himself run away from the house, or politely explain to Lady that he wasn’t, in fact, her sweet little baby boy. It would break her heart.

And Blikk realized that he really didn’t want to hurt her. At all.

The orcs finished their nuzzle, and turned towards the goblin, who was still lying on all fours on their communal bed. Two out of the four eyes expressed a passionate, tender love for what they were seeing, and the other two pretended they didn’t.

“It’s been a long day fer the baby,” softly remarked the Lady. “Ah think we should get him ready for sleepy times. Izzin’ it right, sweetie baby?”

The question was rhetorical. She didn’t expect an answer from a baby who could only babble, after all. But it was Blikk’s cue. Sheepishly, he mewled:

“... M-mama?”

Lady gasped and immediately left the embrace of her husband to rush towards the goblin. It was the second time today that an orc barreled towards Blikk with the intent to grab him, but this time, he let it happen without cowering in fear. He got instantly wrapped in a pair of strong arms who lifted and squeezed him with all their gentle and dangerous might.

He heard Lady babble and coo happy words in his ears. He couldn’t understand most of them, but she sounded so excited. She pulled him out of her bosom and began to cover him in kisses, entwined with repeated whispers of “mah baby”.

The goblin looked around for the Brute. He found him standing where he was, unsure of what to do in this strange reversal of situation. While Lady wasn’t looking, Blikk winked at him with connivence.

And it’s right here and there that he saw the gruff orc smile for the first time.

***

I’m playing with my little toy horse in bed, laying between mom and dad. They’re winding down after a long day, before they blow up the candle and we all get to sleep in the big bed.

Dad on my right smells strongly of sweat and iron. Mom on my left smells like fruits and leather. I think I smell like milk. I like the mix it makes when we’re all together.

Maybe this is a good life for me.

Mom cares for me all day. She never leaves my side for more than a moment, I’m always within reach. She doesn’t want me to leave the house too much. I got a chance to walk around the garden behind the house once. But then she said she heard a boar and brought me back inside to keep me safe. I have big ears and couldn’t hear any boars around. She was looking for an excuse to get me inside and hug me in the rocking chair, I believe.

Dad is being nicer to me now. He keeps saying those horrible things, like ‘I’m gonna cut yer head off and use yer skull as my goblet!’ or ‘I will lock ye up in yer toy chest until yer become a dried up mummy!’, but he doesn’t mean it. I can see it in his eyes that he doesn’t believe what he says, not like the first day where he was serious. It’s just his way to tell a joke, I think. I play along because it makes him laugh loudly when I do. Maybe he likes me after all?

I asked mom how long I would have to wear the cloth around my loins. It feels shameful to dirty them, even if she gives me many kisses and calls me a good boy when she cleans me. She told me I will keep them until I grow big and strong like dad.

But I am big and strong! As big and as strong as a goblin can be! I can’t get any bigger than what I am today. Only fatter. My belly is already getting rounder…

Maybe she thinks that if I drink enough of her milk, I will turn into an orc like her and dad. I don’t think it works like that. Pretty sure? I don’t know how babies work.

I know why she said that. Treating me like her little orcling makes her happy. She doesn’t want me to grow up just yet. Seeing her smile makes my heart run fast, but not in a bad way.

I guess I can still play along for a while. Even if that means more clothes to pee into…

Mom took my horse and blew the candle. They put the blanket over the three of us. I think it’s time to sleep. It’s my favorite time of the day.

Dad and mom snuggle close to me and kiss me goodnight on the cheeks, at the same time, one on each side. I feel their tusks on the sides of my face, but the kisses between them are so big, it makes me feel all little. There’s a warmth rising from inside of me, starting from my belly until it reaches my cheeks. I can’t help but grin and laugh. Do it again, do it again!

Then they cross their arms over me, and mom hums a lullaby to help me go to sleep. It’s their little ritual, they do this every night. I wonder why, since they fall asleep faster than me anyway. Mom’s song is already getting slower.

I think back on the day I accepted what dad asked me to do. Well, he said it like I had no choice, but I said yes by myself, in a way. I would play the baby they couldn’t have, and in return, they would make my life better. Better than any other life I’ve tried before! How lucky I am that they found me on that day.

Dad is snoring, and mom will soon follow. I need to fall asleep quickly, because between the two of them, it would be too much noise to ignore. I close my eyes and let my mind go away, wrapped up in the warmth of their arms. It’s the best feeling.

A baby?

Yeah, I could do that. I could totally do that.