Those Who Dream of Orcs

Clover and Ouhgan 8

Ouhgan quietly closed the door behind him, took a deep breath, and slowly trotted downstairs, where Bula was waiting, arms crossed and brows furrowed.

"You refuse to be rid of her then,"

"Bula I-"

Bula huffed and stormed out of the house slamming the door behind her. She walked slow, waiting, hoping that Ouhgan would run after her. She even stopped and waited but he never came, he never chased after her. With no particular place to go, she stomped off to the drinking house.

Bula gulped down her second mug of grog and slammed it down on the table.

"That stupid orc," she grunted. "More!" she ordered. "That damn elf," she snatched the mug and put it to her lips before the elf maiden could finish pouring.

"You must be talking about Clover," Opal stepped forward pouring Bula another drink. "That elf has a way of messing things up for everyone doesn't she?" Opal said, shooing the other elf maiden away. "I don't know how she was able to seduce that orc-"

"So she did seduce him then?" Bula snatched the mug and gulped down another drink. "Are you sure?"

"I saw her coming and going from his room
multiple times," Opal smirked, pouring her another drink.

"I knew it," Bula slammed her fist down on the table. "He did bed that elf,"

"More than once," Opal poured her another drink. "And she's probably off seducing him now while you're here drinking yourself into a drunken stupor," Opal added, pouring her another drink and another, each time Bula gulped them down one by one until her eyes turned red and glazed over.

Bula hissed and snatched the pitcher from Opal and scarfed it down.

"It would seem that we have a common enemy," Opal said.

"And her name is Clover," Bula snarled.

"Clover," Opal repeated.

"I wish I could just be rid of that elf,"

"Why can't you?" Opal asked.

"Ouhgan refuses to be rid of his precious pet,"

"I didn't say anything about Ouhgan, I said why can't you?"

"Why can't I what?"

"Get rid of Clover yourself, " she insisted.

"How? I couldn't, even if I tried, if something happened to that elf, Ouhgan would most certainly know I had something to do with it."

"Not if you had a witness that saw you in the drinking house, drowning your sorrows away," Opal's eyes narrowed. A wide grin slowly spread across her face, "The desperate wife trying to hold on to the affections of her husband who only has eyes for a certain elf. No one would blame you, Bula,"

"Blame me for what? Just what are you suggesting elf?" Bula leaned in closer.

It was nearly sunrise when Bula stumbled from the drinking house, tripping on the steps and nearly falling.

"Too much grog," she groaned, shielding her eyes from the bright morning sun peeking through the treetops.

She grabbed her stomach, bent over, and vomited in the snow.

"To, to, too much grog," she whimpered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

She scooped up a handful of snow and patted her face with it. It was cold, nearly sobering her up.

Through her blurred vision, she could see her house in the distance. As she got closer, through the window she could make out a shadow of a figure that was too large to be Clover. Ouhgan was sitting at the table with his arms folded across his chest. He was trying his best to stay awake but every once in a while his eyes would close and despite trying to keep his head steady it fell forward, snapping him back awake. He hadn't chased after her but he had been up all night waiting for her to come home.