Grumpy, Cute, and Surrounded

The orcs shoved Gus forward through the underbrush, the jagged tip of a blade pressing mercilessly into his back, yet they didn’t even glance at him.

With his hands bound tight by coarse rope, he fought against the panic knotting in his gut.

Shit… how the hell am I supposed to get out of this?

An orc growled behind him, seized his shoulder, and shoved him onward as if he were nothing more than livestock.

“Move it, elf!” the creature snarled.

Gus pressed his lips together, not daring to reply.

The farther they marched, the more desolate the land became. The trees stood crooked and withered, sickly gray leaves clinging to their branches.

A rancid stench hung in the air, and Gus grimaced, swallowing back the urge to retch.

Between the bare trunks dangled bones like grim trophies, and here and there skulls were impaled on stakes, some weathered to pale husks, others fresh, still clotted with dark scraps of flesh.

His throat closed up, and he forced himself to look away, his gaze flicked from the orcs to the banners they carried, rough hides daubed with jagged black symbols.

Then the memory slammed back into him: the words of the wounded elf in the village.

Their leader… he’s a demon. He plans… to sacrifice them. Blood magic… to make the orcs stronger…East… to Black Hill

Gus’s heartbeat spiked.

Shit, they’re gonna feed me to some demon!

His thoughts went to Caeriel, who wanted to march straight into this nightmare on her own.

If she actually pulls this off, she’s got bigger balls than Marcus and me combined… I hope she's okay...

The trees thinned, and the underbrush gave way to a barren expanse.

Black Hill rose ahead, jagged and split, a sickly green glow seeping from cracks in the rock. Low, guttural chants rolled down from the summit, carried by the relentless pound of drums.

Gus’s throat went dry.

Black Hill. The elf had been right.

A deep, foreboding horn blast rang out, and others answered from the hill above.

An orc seized Gus by the arm and shoved him into a rickety cage of warped timbers at the hill’s base.

Inside, dozens of elves were crammed together, men, women, children, faces streaked with grime, eyes wide with fear.

Their stares fixed on him, sharpening the moment they realized he wasn’t one of them.

“That’s a human?!” one of them cried.

“How did he end up here?” another demanded.

A little girl with tangled hair crept closer, her eyes bright, her voice surprisingly firm.

“Hey… are you really human?”

Gus, still reeling, needed a moment before he nodded.

“Uh… yeah. I’m human.”

The girl’s eyes lit up.

“Wow! Is it true you only live a hundred years?”

Gus blinked and managed a weak smile.

“A hundred? I wish. More like eighty, if I’m lucky. Ninety with enough beer.”

A ripple of whispers spread through the group.

Then suddenly an older elf shoved his way forward, his face lined with age, twisted with anger, his clothes hanging in tatters.

He blinked in surprise, then narrowed his eyes.

“Wait. I know you! You’re one of those humans who bragged before the king about defeating the Demon King!”

Gus’s eyes widened, as he muttered under his breath:

“The farmer from the throne room…? so they caught him too...”

Another elf sneered.

“Defeat the Demon King? And yet you let yourself get caught by a handful of orcs? Tsk.”

Bitter laughter rippled through the captives.

Gus clenched his teeth, not about to let the mockery slide, even if he knew they weren’t wrong.

“This… this is all part of our plan! I’m just… waiting for my comrades. Any moment now we’ll hit these orcs from the inside and the outside. That’s the strategy!”

“In that state?” the elf scoffed. “As if anyone would believe that.”

Gus glared back, but said nothing.

Without a warning, a spear slammed against the cage bars with a jarring clang.

“Shut your filthy mouths, elf scum!” one of the orcs bellowed, spittle spraying from between his tusks, and the chatter fell silent in an instant.

Only the little girl tugged at Gus’s sleeve, whispering, “Pssst. I believe you! If you need help… just tell me!”

Startled, Gus gave her a quick, bewildered nod before she vanished back among the others.

---

As night fell, Gus crouched against the bars, a little apart from the elves, already drifting into an exhausted half-sleep.

A nearby rustle yanked him back awake.

He blinked, rubbed at his eyes, and caught a flicker of movement in the shadows, footsteps so light they were barely a whisper.

An orc on patrol let out a hoarse groan, then collapsed with a dull thud, an arrow jutting from his throat.

Gus’s heart leapt as another spun around, but before he could shout, a second arrow hissed through the air and dropped him gurgling to the ground.

And then she was there, right in front of the cage.

Caeriel.

In the darkness she looked almost like a shadow herself, but her blue eyes gleamed with determination as her fingers worked swiftly at the lock.

A soft click, and the door sprang open.

“Quiet, no noise,” she whispered, then exchanged hushed words with the prisoners, giving quick instructions for their escape.

The first elves slipped out, ducking low, hope flashing in their faces as they vanished into the night.

Gus stayed frozen, eyes locked on her.

Damn… she’s incredible…

The way she moved, the calm precision as she worked the lock, the way she guided the elves with just a few words, no fear, only pure, focused strength.

When the last of the elves slipped out, her gaze finally landed on Gus, still hunched in the shadows.

Her eyes widened and she froze.

“YOU!?”

Gus, caught like a schoolboy in trouble, scratched the back of his neck. 

“Uh… hey. What’s up? Hehe…”

Her expression hardened at once. “What are you doing here? I told you to get the wounded to safety!”

“We did!” Gus blurted. “And… well… then we came after you, to help.”

Her eyes traveled slowly from his face down his disheveled form, then to the bars behind him.

One brow arched, dry and cutting. “Looks like that worked out great. And where’s that partner of yours?”

Gus’s gaze slipped away. “We… got separated.”

For a moment she just stared at him, then dragged a hand down her face with a weary sigh. 

“By the gods…”

“Lady, what’s keeping you?” one of the elves whispered urgently from outside.

She gave him a quick nod, then turned back to Gus.

“Come on, hurry. First we need to get out of here.”

Gus didn’t argue and scrambled to his feet.

---

The fugitives crept tightly through the darkness, every step cautious, every breath hushed.

Caeriel led them, pausing a few times to raise her hand and listen before whispering the signal to move on.

Gus trailed at the back, holding the hand of the elf girl who had no family among the captives and clung to him.

Suddenly she gasped and tore free.

“I forgot something!”

Gus blinked. “Forgot what?”

She was already darting back toward the cage.

“My toy horse! My mom gave it to me!”

“Wait, are you insane!?” Gus hissed, bolting after her.

Caeriel’s head snapped around as the girl broke away. She started to move, but then saw Gus chasing after her.

“My lady!” one of the elves grabbed her arm. “We can’t stop, if we do, we’ll all be caught! We have to keep going!”

For a heartbeat she wavered, torn between duty and instinct, then shoved the elf off.

“Head west, follow the river. Once the hill is out of sight, you’ll be safe. Run, as fast as you can, we'll catch up later!”

The elves nodded quickly, some casting her desperate looks before melting into the night.

Caeriel spun away, an arrow already nocked, and sprinted toward where Gus had vanished down the hill.

His heart pounded as he caught up with the little girl halfway, but flames were already flaring ahead.

The orc patrol.

The girl froze, clutching at Gus, while the orcs blew their horns and drew blades and axes.

“The prisoners are escaping! Bring them back!”

“Run, now!” Gus shouted, shoving her toward the opposite direction.

She shook her head, but he pushed her harder.

“Go! Just go!”

Finally, she ran back, tears streaming, while Gus stood alone against the orcs.

He staggered back, nearly tripping.

One of the orcs seized him by the collar and hauled him effortlessly into the air like a ragdoll, laughing.

Gus’s feet dangled, his throat squeezed tight.

“Arghh, fuck, let me go, you ugly asshole!”

His pulse hammered in his skull, panic flooding his chest, then his fingers brushed the dagger at his hip.

Without thinking, he tore it free, ripped it upward, and felt the sick resistance as the blade carved across the orc’s throat.

A hot spray of blood splattered him. The grip loosened, the orc gurgled, staggered, then hit the ground with a heavy thud.

Gus collapsed to his knees, panting heavily.

“…Holy shit… I actually killed him. I killed a fucking orc.”

He blinked, blood dripping down his face.

“Oh God, Marcus would’ve lost his shit. ‘Gus the Orcslayer,’ hehe…”

A shaky laugh bubbled out of him, half panic, half triumph, but the other orcs were already charging.

Then arrows hissed through the air, and they collapsed one by one, choking as they hit the dirt.

Caeriel soon stood over him, her bowstring already taut with another arrow, her gaze cold and razor-sharp.

“On your feet!” she barked.

Gus scrambled up, the dagger still clenched tight in his fist.

Out of the corner of her eye, Caeriel looked at him, hard, but with a flicker of something softer beneath the steel.

“What were you thinking, charging after her like that!?”

But Gus only gave a faint, crooked smile.

“…I learned that from a grumpy elf ranger I know. She’s kinda cute, though.”

Caeriel froze, the arrow still pressed to the string, and for a heartbeat, something flickered in her eyes that wasn’t just anger.

“C… cute?…” She jerked her head away, ears tinged red. Then she shot back, bristling:

“Wait, did you just call me grumpy again!?”

Before Gus could answer, more horns blared through the night. 

Caeriel’s head snapped around, her pointed ears twitching.

Above them and ahead, dozens of torches flared to life, as shadows marched in lockstep with heavy boots.

Orcs spilled from the darkness, sealing off the path west.

Gus’s mouth went dry.

“And… now what?”

Caeriel drew her bowstring tight, her eyes hard as steel.

“Fight. Or die.”

Gus swallowed hard, eyes wide.

“…Die!?”

And with the hiss of the first arrows, the night erupted in fire.