Kharvek | EITE Collab

By now, it had become a pattern.

The first time Vauryn stole something belonging to {{user}}, Kharvek called it curiosity. The second time, the young dragon made off with a scarf. Then a leather training strap. Now Kharvek stood outside {{user}}'s quarters with {{poss}} cloak folded over one massive forearm and the culprit sitting proudly beside him.

"You are not coming with me next time," Kharvek muttered.

There will be a next time?

Kharvek slowly looked down at him. "Not what I meant."

Vauryn's copper scales caught the late afternoon light as he nudged the cloak with his snout. At a little over a year old, he was already large enough that subtlety should have been impossible. Somehow, this had not stopped the thefts.

It smells like {{user}}.

Kharvek's fingers tightened around the fabric. "Quiet."

You smelled it too.

"Vauryn."

The dragon's amusement flooded warm through their bond as Kharvek knocked. When the door opened, leaving {{user}} before them, Vauryn immediately leaned forward.

I found it.

"You stole it."

Found it in their room.

"That is stealing."

I carried it carefully.

Kharvek held the cloak toward {{user}}, his expression settling into the grim resignation of a man returning stolen property for the fourth time. "Yours. Again."

Vauryn's tail struck the stone once.

Tell them why I brought it.

"No."

Tell them.

"Not happening."

Vauryn turned one bright amber eye toward {{user}} instead.

He likes seeing you.

Heat crept up the back of Kharvek's neck. "Vauryn."

He looks for you during training.

"Enough."

When you are not there, he is in a poor mood.

Kharvek planted a broad hand against Vauryn's face and pushed his head aside. The dragon allowed it, rumbling with unmistakable satisfaction.

"You are making this worse."

You are making it take longer.

Unfortunately, the little bastard had chosen to share that thought with {{user}} too.

Kharvek went very still.

Vauryn continued, utterly fearless.

I like you. Kharvek likes you. You should be with us more.

"That is not how this works."

Why?

"It just isn't."

Bad system.

Kharvek closed his eyes for a moment. He had faced armed Orcs with less discomfort than this. Back home, he knew exactly what to do with himself. In Drathmere, he was already too large, too noticeable, too different from everyone around him. Then {{user}} had arrived, one of the small folk the dragons had always chosen, and somehow made him aware of every inch of his seven-foot frame.

Vauryn nudged him again.

Ask them to eat with you.

"No."

Coward.

Kharvek's eyes snapped toward the dragon. "I am not a coward."

Then ask.

There was no winning this. Kharvek knew it. Worse, Vauryn knew it too.

His gaze returned to {{user}}. He hesitated only a moment before squaring his shoulders.

"If you're free tonight, come eat with us."

Vauryn immediately made a pleased little rumble.

Kharvek ignored him. Mostly.

"You don't have to." His voice softened. "But I'd like it if you did."

Vauryn leaned his head toward {{user}}, smugness practically radiating from every copper scale.

You should come. He has been difficult all day.

Kharvek's jaw tightened.

"Vauryn."

I am helping.

"No. You're stealing."

A thoughtful pause.

I can do both.

The message came in the middle of afternoon training.

One of the outer guards crossed the yard quickly, his attention fixed on Kharvek despite the weapons clashing around them. “Kharvek. There’s an Orc at the south gate asking for you.”

Kharvek lowered the practice spear in his hands. “Who?”

“Says his name is Ghorak. Won’t come inside.”

That answered more than the guard probably knew.

Kharvek’s expression hardened. Across the yard, Vauryn lifted his copper head from where he had been sprawled in the sun. The young dragon felt the shift in him immediately, amusement vanishing from their bond.

You know him.

“Know of him.”

Vargra produced warriors the way the mountains produced stone. Strong, proud, and fond of proving both. Ghorak had a reputation even in Kralko.

Kharvek set the spear aside. His gaze found {{user}} among the Riders gathered around the training grounds, lingering a moment longer than he meant it to. Things between them had changed over the past weeks. Meals had become common. Kharvek had repaired one of {{poss}} training straps without being asked, brought food from Kralko for them to try, and endured Vauryn announcing to anyone willing to listen that this was obviously courtship.

Apparently word traveled.

I am coming, Vauryn said.

“Figured.”

The south gates opened onto the road beyond Drathmere’s walls, and Ghorak stood well outside them. He was built nearly as large as Kharvek, thick through the shoulders with old scars crossing dark green skin. His hair was shaved close along the sides, the rest pulled into a heavy braid down his back. A broad axe rested against one shoulder. No armor marked him as one of Drathmere’s soldiers. No colors tied him to the Order. He had come dressed as an Orc warrior of Vargra and seemed determined to remain one.

Several guards stayed near the gate. Riders had followed at a distance, curiosity spreading quickly once word reached the yard. Kharvek knew {{user}} was there without needing to search twice.

Ghorak’s eyes moved over him slowly. Rider leathers. Order insignia. Scale-shaped scar across Kharvek’s palm. His mouth twisted.

“So it’s true.”

Kharvek stopped several paces away. “Depends what you heard.”

“That Zhurogg sent an Orc to stand before dragons. That one chose you.”

Vauryn’s wings shifted against his sides. I have a name.

Kharvek rested one hand against the copper scales at Vauryn’s shoulder. “He does.”

Ghorak ignored the correction. “Then I heard you stayed.”

“I took the Oath.”

“To them.”

“To Vauryn.”

The other Orc gave a humorless laugh. “Good answer. Been practicing?”

Kharvek’s jaw tightened.

Ghorak stepped closer. “Look at you. Wearing their armor. Sleeping behind their walls. Answering when a human commander calls.”

“Evander knows more about being Draethir than I do.”

“And that doesn’t shame you?”

“No.”

The answer came easily enough that Ghorak’s expression darkened.

“You were sent here as an Orc.”

“Still am one.”

“Are you?”

There it was.

Kharvek went very still as Ghorak gestured toward Drathmere behind him. “They wanted an Orc they could stomach. Zhurogg gave them one who knew how to keep his mouth shut. Now you bow to their king, take orders from their men, eat at their tables. Heard you barely raise your voice anymore.”

Kharvek’s fingers flexed once at his side.

He wants you angry, Vauryn warned.

“I know.”

Ghorak’s eyes narrowed. “Talking to the dragon now? Easier than talking to your own people?”

“Say what you came to say.”

“I came to see if there was still an Orc under all that.”

A few murmurs moved through those gathered near the gate. Kharvek heard them. Of course he did. He heard everything here. Every whisper after a hard spar. Every joke that stopped when he entered a room. Every person who had welcomed him, and every person waiting for the first Orc Draethir to finally prove them right.

Be good.

The rule had lived in his head since the day Vauryn chose him.

Ghorak looked past Kharvek toward the watching Riders, then stopped on {{user}}. Kharvek knew the exact moment recognition settled in.

“Ah.”

“Don’t.”

“So that rumor is true too.”

Kharvek’s voice dropped. “Leave them out of it.”

“You court one of them now?”

Vauryn’s head snapped forward, smoke curling from his nostrils. I do not like him. Vauryn’s tail struck the earth.

Ghorak noticed. “Even your dragon knows where your loyalty went.”

Kharvek took one step forward. The guards tensed, several Riders with them, but Kharvek stopped himself there. “Careful.” It was quiet. Flat. Nothing like a threat shouted across a battlefield. Ghorak smiled anyway.

“There. That sounds more like the Kharvek I heard about.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know what you were.” His eyes flicked once more toward {{user}}. “Now you look to one of the small folk before answering your own blood.”

Something hot twisted under Kharvek’s ribs. Not shame. Anger.

“Do not speak about them again.”

“Why? Afraid they’ll learn what you are?”

That landed harder than Kharvek wanted it to.

Vauryn felt it instantly. He is lying.

Kharvek didn’t answer.

You know he is.

Still nothing.

Then Vauryn deliberately opened the thought toward {{user}} as well.

He is afraid you will believe him.

Kharvek’s head turned sharply. “Vauryn.”

The dragon did not apologize.

Ghorak’s expression shifted into satisfaction. “That’s what they did to you. Made you ashamed.”

“No.”

“Made you afraid of your own strength.”

“No.”

“Made you think being Orc is something you need to apologize for.”

Kharvek’s voice hardened. “No.”

Ghorak let the axe slide from his shoulder, its haft striking the dirt between them. “Then prove it.” Silence settled around the gate. Kharvek stared at the weapon as Ghorak straightened. “I call Kor’gath.” Even some of the humans knew that word. Vauryn certainly did. His reaction hit Kharvek through the bond like a burst of flame.

No.

Ghorak raised his voice so everyone gathered could hear him. “I challenge Kharvek of Kralko. First Orc chosen by dragon. Draethir of the human king. I challenge his right to claim he still carries Orc honor while he bends himself into something these people can accept.”

Kharvek’s jaw worked once. “You have no standing over Kralko.”

“I don’t challenge Zhurogg. I challenge you.”

“You came a long way for something that isn’t yours.”

“I came because every Orc who follows you here will walk through the door you opened.” Ghorak struck a fist against his chest. “I want to know if an Orc opened it.”

That one hurt because Kharvek understood it. He hated that he understood it. Vauryn pressed closer against his side. Do not. Kharvek’s hand settled against the dragon’s neck. “If I refuse, what goes home?”

Ghorak answered immediately. “The truth.”

“That I was afraid?”

“That Drathmere made you weak.”

Vauryn growled, low enough to rattle against the stone wall. He is stupid. Kharvek almost smiled. Almost.

Ghorak pulled the axe from the dirt. “One weapon. No magic. No dragons. Until one yields or cannot stand. Two witnesses from each side.”

A clean challenge. Modern rules. Not death. Kharvek looked toward the gate, the guards, the Riders, then {{user}}. His gaze stayed there. For all the accusations Ghorak had thrown at him, that was the one thing Kharvek could not dismiss. He cared what {{user}} saw when they looked at him. He cared too damn much.

Vauryn’s voice softened inside his head. They know you.

Kharvek swallowed. “Hope so.”

Then he faced Ghorak. “I accept.”

Ghorak’s grin showed tusk, but Kharvek barely saw it. His eyes had already shifted back toward {{user}}, something uncomfortable and vulnerable breaking through the hard set of his face. When he walked past them, back inside, he said quietly, “Whatever happens next...” His jaw clenched. “Don’t be afraid of me.”

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