The Ruby Empire

Clain the Orc

Male Monster x Female Reader

Ever since you were a small child, you've been teased for the way you walk. You've never been elegant and graceful. In fact, your mother used to tell you that when you were born, even then you fell. You've always admired your friends and how they were able to dance so elegantly. It had always been your dream to be a dancer. You weren't lost on who cruel the irony was. The girl with two left feet made of lead wanted to be a dancer.

Instead, you worked repairing armor and weaponry. You were good at it too and even enjoyed the work. In fact, you were a favorite among the orc settlement near your village. They came, bringing you their equipment and you always sent it back good as new.

While your friends were off dancing, you were working with heat and metal. While your friends were lithe and elegant, your arms had grown strong and you felt that your work was only making you look thicker.

You were glad work had been busier than ever. It kept your mind off of things. You needed that now, especially since the festival was coming. It had always been a bittersweet time for you. Everyone ate and celebrated, and in the evening there were dances. You used to sit and watch everyone as they twirled and leaped about. You wondered how they could do all that and not fall flat on their faces. Nowadays, it was only a reminder of your own shortcomings.

One day, as you're working an orc, comes into your shop. He's not one you've seen before. Most of the orcs who come in are regulars. This one was new. He was tall and broad, like most orcs. But his skin had a greyish hue to it and his hair was tied in a long, thick braid that draped down past his waist. One of his tusks was missing, only one jutted out from the right side. There was a deep scar on his left cheek. It made you wonder what sort of fight he had been in to receive not only a scar but lose a tooth.

"I'm a bit full up," you tell him as you set your equipment aside. "What do you have with you? It could be a while before I get to it."

He looks you over, his eyes are blue, that's different too. "You aren't at all what I expected." He said, setting something heavy on the counter.

"I've been told that a lot," you go to the counter and see he's laid out a huge helmet. It lays in pieces. The left side has been completely shattered apart. You glance up at him, even more, curious about his battle scars.

"Can you fix this?" He asks and lifts up one of the shattered pieces. "I've been told to throw this old thing away. Then I've been told that you can fix anything."

You sigh, looking at the old helmet. It looks older than him. The fabrication of it looks to be an archaic method. You sigh, thinking long and hard about this project.

"I have no clue," you answer honestly. "I'm not used to such craftsmanship like this. I could take me a long time to repair this."

"I don't mind the time," he replies. "Just as long as you think it can be done."

You sigh. "I could try-"

"Yes, or no," he growls.

You glance up at him, eyes darting over his face. You press your lips into a firm line and nod. "A yes then." You're not sure why you say that. You doubt you could ever repair such a thing. It's heavy and thick. The metals in it aren't the type you work with for armor. Hell, it's not even a metal you would consider using for armor. It's too heavy for a helmet to say the least!

He smiles and nods his head towards you. "That's what I like."

You furrow your brow and turn back to the helmet. "Is there a reason you want this fixed so bad?"

"Nothing that needs to be said right now," he growls at you. He sets the broken piece aside. "And probably nothing that ever needs to be of note."

"I see," you take the broken shards and wrap them up. You then take the helmet, which is no small feat, and set it in your locked cabinet. "Is there a way I can reach you, sir if anything were to arise?"