Surrogate

"You can't keep it, Liz!" 
Thalleia sat crouched in the shadows by the open shed door. Lamplight flickered in the windows of the masters house, highlighting his dark form as he paced across the room. 
"It looks sickly. I doubt it will live through the week, even if I did let you tend it."
"He's not a calf or a lamb, Joe, he's a child." Thalleia had to strain to hear her, the mistress' voice was soft and pleading. "Rii'ka died to give him life, Joseph... please, don't let it be for nothing."
"You care too much about these greenskins, Lizzy. It's not natural. You forget what bloodthirsty, murdering monsters they are?"
"He's just a baby..."
"It's an orc, Liz! An ORC! Nothing you do's gonna change that." His shadow fell across the window as he moved towards the door. "Just... give it here, Liz... I'll do what needs doing."
"What are you going to do with him, Joe?" The mistress' voice was high, it made Thalleia's stomach clench into knots.
"Liz..." The lamplight flickered as the shadow moved away. "Lizzy, don't look at me like that..."
Thalleia leaned forward, listening in the darkness. A few tense moments later, the masters voice was heard again.
"Alright, Liz... alright. Put it in the shed with the others."
"But Joe, he needs care... can't he stay inside where I can keep an eye on him?"
"No, Liz. No. No. No." The masters voice was harsh. "I'm not having one of those things living under my roof, that's final! Take it out to the shed, Liz, let the girl tend it. Don't look at me like that, woman. Bad enough I'm letting you keep it, better if I just put it down and be done with it."
A shaft of light pierced the darkness, cleaving the night in two as the mistress stepped across the threshold. Thalleia quickly backed away, scuttling towards her pallet in the corner.
Lamp swaying in one hand, bundle held securely to her chest in the other, the mistress quickly bridged the short distance between the main house and the small shed where the orcs were quartered. Stooping, she set the lantern on the dirt floor next to the head of Thalleias pallet.
"Come here, Thalleia."
Hesitant at first, Thalleia scooted towards the mistress, now perched lightly on the edge of the pallet. Nodding her encouragement, the mistress laid the bundle in her lap, carefully pulling back the linens. Thalleia gazed down at the sleeping infant, surprised by the change in his appearance. 
Thick lashes rested on plump, green cheeks. Pale, bow shaped lips parted as one tiny, flailing fist was brought to its mouth. Sucking noisily, the infants face screwed up; a harbinger to the wail forthcoming. The mistress produced a small glass bottle from her pocket, removed the cork and placed what looked to Thalleia like a finger from a small, leather glove, on top. She slipped a metal ring over the 'finger', locking it in place. The movements were so quick, Thalleia was unable to follow them all. 
"I need your help, Thalleia."
One arm wrapped around Thalleias small shoulders, the mistress tucked the babe into the crook of the girls arm.
"He needs your help."
Lifting her head, large brown eyes not quite meeting her mistress' soft gray ones, the little orc asked, tone pleading; "When's Mama coming back?
"Thalleia..." The mistress reached out, gently stroking one grubby, tear stained cheek. "She can't come back, honey, not from where she's gone."
"Where'd she go?" Thalleia bit her lip, eyes filling again with tears.
"To the Light, I hope..."
Confused, Thalleia began to ask what light? Where? but the masters bellow cut her off.
"Lizzie!" 
Sighing, the mistress placed the bottle into the young girls hand, guiding the tip to the infants lips. Thalleias eyes flew wide as the creature latched on, grunting as it suckled.
"It will all turn out, Thalleia." The mistressed gave her a small, sad smile. "Have faith."
"LIZZIE!"
The mistress stood, plucked up the lamp and turning on her heel, hastily made her way back to the house.
Brows knitting in a small frown, Thalleia watched as the lamplight receded. It took a few moments for her to realize the incessant tugging had stopped and the bottle lay idle in her small hand. Setting the half empty bottle on the hard packed earth floor, she turned her attention to the bundle in her arms.
A trickle of milk dribbled from one corner of the infants slack lips to its chin. With the edge of the linen swaddling, Thalleia wiped at the spill, smiling despite herself as the tiny lips smacked against each other, head turning towards the cloth.
"That's not for eating." She half whispered, moving the linen away from its groping lips. Fascinated, she watched as the infant brought a fist to its mouth, sucking noisily. Curious, she lifted the other tiny hand in her own, studying it. Pale green fingers splayed wide as Thalleias fingertip traced its palm. She blinked as the fingers curled around her own, its grip surprisingly firm.
"Don't worry," She whispered, glancing from the babe to the empty space her parents had occupied and back. "I'm not gonna leave you alone."
She carefully laid the infant on the pallet, curling herself around the little bundle, finger still firmly caught in its grip as she drifted off to sleep.
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Thalleia sat bolt upright, blinking in the darkness. Her heart raced, pulse thundering in her ears along with the shrill cry that had startled her awake. Sight slowly adjusting, movement caught her eye. Tiny feet kicked furiously, fists waving in the air as the infant let loose another howl.
Leaning over, Thalleia grasped the edge of the linen, thinking to bundle the squalling creature. She gasped, snatching her fingers back and wiping them on the hem of her shift. No wonder it's so mad, she thought, its blanket is all wet and cold. Frowning, she looked at the infant once more, trying to decide what to do. She glanced over to where her parents pallet had been, frowning deeper as her eyes roamed over the empty space. Papa's been gone an aweful long time. Eyes wide, she was suddenly gripped with terror. What if he wasn't coming back? What it Papa had left her here and she'd never see him again!?
The little orc began to cry, adding her wails to the infants shrieks of discomfort. Sniffling, tears steadily coursing down her cheeks, Thalleia lifted the babe from its soiled wrappings, swaddling it in her own tattered quilt and held it to her chest. She rocked back and forth, huddled around the little bundle, face buried into the corner of the blanket. As her own crying eased, fatigue overcoming her fears and loneliness, she realized the infant had quieted. She scooted back, wedging herself into the corner, bundle still held firmly to her chest. She clung to the infant, drawing comfort as much as giving it.
Category:Stories 
Category:Thalleia