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Korik

Korik the Steadfast was not a midwife, but he was the only healer who lived in Drol Kuggradh. So when he had received a personal summons from King Zorvut and his husband, Prince Taegan—only a week after the prince had come, asking to confirm his pregnancy—he had a sinking feeling that his quiet way of life was going to change irrevocably.

He explained that he was not a midwife, though he had assisted with births in the past—unlike the handful of elf healers stationed in Drol Kuggradh, who were trained as combat medics and general physicians with little experience of such matters. So when Prince Taegan had asked for him to “assist” the elf healers during his pregnancy and afterward, despite his own reservations, Korik had agreed. Not that he could say no to a prince, let alone his husband the king, who had slain the previous warlord to take his position.

He learned as much as he could about elven reproduction in the following weeks and hoped that, despite their differing physiology, things would not be too different compared to orcs.

Luckily, the princess came without much fuss and with no intervention needed. She was born right into the hands of her father the king, who then delivered her to the waiting arms of the prince. He held her in wonder as she cried, before she was given to Korik, who cleaned her up and made sure that she was healthy. There were no complications, so he returned the babe to Prince Taegan for the night and gathered his things to leave. But before he could get very far, he was called back to speak with the king privately.

King Zorvut met him alone in the hallway, looking tired, though his expression became more stoic as Korik approached him. The king was short for an orc, but everyone was short to Korik, who stood head and shoulders above most other orcs. He had always thought his height was wasted on him, though, with no muscle or coordination to go along with it—he’d always been scrawny and awkward, a mess of long limbs he never knew what to do with.

The king’s proud stature only made him feel more self-conscious; Korik hunched his shoulders without thinking, his long hair falling over his face as he bowed his head politely to the king.

“I wanted to thank you personally, Healer Korik,” King Zorvut said, which eased some of the worry that had started to rise in Korik’s chest. “I understand that this has all been a... learning curve for you, after Taegan asked for you. But he trusts you, as do I.”

He paused, so Korik nodded, unsure if he should say anything in response. When a beat of silence passed, he replied,

“I’m glad to have helped.”

A small smile curved across Zorvut’s weary features. “And I appreciate it. But I would ask another favor of you.”

Korik blinked. “I have already told the prince I will remain his physician, and the child’s.”

Zorvut shook his head. “Not that. Something else.”

“Oh.”

Korik’s heart sank. He had always led a quiet life. Before the peace treaty with the elves, he was really only known to the handful of orcs who also lived permanently in Drol Kuggradh. The vast majority of other orcs would only meet him once or twice, as they passed through Drol Kuggradh and happened to need a healer outside of their clan. Some might remember him, and a precious few might even owe him their lives. But for the most part, he was nobody—and he preferred it that way.

Now, though, he was tangled up with this new royal family, and he doubted his life would be so calm ever again.

“I don’t entirely know what exactly I need from you,” Zorvut continued, his voice taking on a confessional tone. Pulled from his thoughts, Korik looked at him again, surprised at the pained expression on his face. “But... This alliance between us and the elves means everything. Everything. I would hope our child would strengthen that alliance, but I’ve already heard the beginnings of rebellion again. I’m not so foolish as to think the matter settled after one battle is won and a new heir is born. So I need to be able to trust the orcs here, closest to us. Closest to her.”

Korik stiffened. Was the king questioning his loyalty, now of all times? “I was at the coronation. I have no qualms with the alliance between us and Aefraya.”

“I know,” Zorvut replied, shaking his head. “I know. I just... Healer Korik, I would ask that you treat all the elves that you meet with the same kindness you’ve shown my husband, whether here in Drol Kuggradh or elsewhere. That you will help uphold this alliance so our people can finally have a peaceful existence.”

For a long moment, Korik was silent. Just what was the king expecting of him? He lived in Drol Kuggradh and had no intention of ever leaving. While he had extended his services to the elves that now lived in the city as needed, for the most part, the elven healers took care of their own. It was only this extenuating circumstance that had gotten him so involved. If they had more children, he would gladly help again. Otherwise he did not see what, exactly, Zorvut was asking him to do. From the expression on the young king’s face, though, he suspected that maybe Zorvut was not completely sure, either—only that he wanted some reassurance of Korik’s loyalty.

He considered that in order to become king, Zorvut had needed to kill the man who raised him, then confront his own brother in battle—and if the rumors were true, that same brother conspired against him still. Maybe even now he saw betrayal in every corner, always wondering which of his advisors or friends he could truly trust.

“I will do so,” Korik finally answered.

“Swear your loyalty to the elves, as you have sworn loyalty to me,” Zorvut urged him, and although it seemed like an overreach to Korik, he felt he had little choice but to agree.

After all, a request from a king was actually a polite demand, and a veiled threat that to refuse would not end well for him. In his years dealing with the warlords of Drol Kuggradh, that was a lesson he had learned early on.

“I swear it,” Korik said.

At that, finally, Zorvut’s tense expression relaxed somewhat, and he managed a slight smile up at Korik.

“Thank you, healer,” he sighed, looking away. “I know you must consider this an overreaction. But it brings me much relief to hear it. I know Taegan trusts you. I had been thinking about this for some time, and I wasn’t going to say anything, but after holding her...” He trailed off, his voice tightening. He cleared his throat before concluding, “I just needed to hear it from you. That I can trust you, too.”

Korik nodded, unsure of how to reply; but the king now seemed eager to return to his child. “That’s all for now. Another healer is on call, so please get some rest. We’ll let you know if anything else comes up.”

“Yes,” Korik agreed simply, bowing his head with a nod, as Zorvut turned and slipped out of the hallway.

Korik stood there for a long moment alone, turning the conversation over in his mind. He had no qualms about swearing loyalty to Zorvut or to the elves—he’d had no love for the warlord and was grateful for the peace the alliance had brought—but still the exchange felt heavy somehow.

He was just tired, he thought, and Zorvut had been tired and vulnerable as well. That was all there was to it. He would feel better after resting.

His footsteps echoed loudly down the empty hallway as he turned and headed for the guest quarters that had been prepared for him. He’d get some rest, check up on the prince and the newborn princess in the morning, then finally head back to his home and his shop and his cat. He’d feel better about it all then.