Page 7 of The Orc Who Hated Christmas
Graal didn’t really know how his human mother and orc father had met. But he knew he’d already been born when Jordan and his mother met. For a while, he’d wondered if she’d been assaulted by his father, but from the snippets he’d picked up on, she’d run off with his father. A few months later, she’d returned to the city pregnant.
Jordan had hated Graal. Not that Graal’s mother had given two shits about him either. She’d taught him how to dochores around the house. But other than that, she hadn’t wanted anything to do with him. Honestly, he’d never known why he’d not been dumped at a foundling home or kicked out onto the streets. Perhaps he’d been cheaper than a servant.
Graal swallowed the bread he’d been chewing. The chunk slid down his throat and landed heavily in his stomach like it always did. But brick bread was filling and cheap, and it would keep him going. Orcs like him didn’t need lovely sugar cookies or delicate baked goods.
They’d be wasted on him. Graal lifted his massive hand. He’d probably accidentally crush the cookies on the way home. And no doubt the little cookie would look ridiculous in his big ugly paw.
Graal took a bite of the sausage and swallowed it down. Then he bit into the cheese.
Growing up, Graal’s mother had barely looked at him, even when talking directly to him. “Mop the floor,” “Clean out the fireplace,” and “Wash the dishes.” She had told him what chores needed to be done, but she’d never looked him in the eyes. It was like she couldn’t ever bear to look at him.
Graal had been fourteen when Sam, Graal’s half-brother, had been born just a few months before Christmas. They’d kicked Graal out of his room. Sam had needed it, so Graal slept on the floor in the kitchen, which Jordan had said suited him, since Graal did all the chores.
Then one day, soon after Sam was born, Graal had been carrying armfuls of firewood to their home.
He spotted his parents in the street, talking to several neighbours.
“You haven’t met our son yet, have you?” Jordan held Sam in his arms, beaming down. “Isn’t he a good-looking boy?”
The neighbours cooed.
“We are so blessed to finally have a son,” his mother said with a smile as she gazed down at Sam.
Graal’s world tipped. She looked up then. His mother’s eyes landed on Graal. Her smile dropped. Then she looked away, back to her newborn son. Her smile returned, and she resumed doting on the son she wanted.
Numb, Graal entered their home.
His footsteps stuttered as he spotted a Christmas tree in the main room. His mother and Jordan must have set it up whilst he was out. Shiny tinsel and baubles decorated the green branches. His throat clenched.
Pretty little presents wrapped in brown paper lay beneath the tree. Graal didn’t need to ask. He knew none were for him.
These were for Sam. This Christmas, this tree, these decorations—it was all for Sam.
Graal put down the firewood. He walked to the window and stared out at his mother with the family she wanted. In the reflection of the window, he could just make out his own features: his tusks, his pointed ears, his big green, ugly face. No wonder his mother despised him. Graal was hideous. A monster.
He returned to the kitchen and grabbed his few possessions. He left his home without a word.
He doubted his mother had cared.
After that, he’d lived on the streets for a couple of weeks until he found a job at the quarry. It had taken him a little longer to find a room. The first few places he’d gone wouldn’t even take an orc tenant.
He took another bite of the bread and chewed. His thoughts drifted to Cas. The pixie had been so excited and happy, showing off all the baked goods, trying to get Graal to buy something.
But then Graal had made his smile drop.
Just like the sight of his repulsive face had made his mother’s smile drop all those years ago.
Graal stopped chewing. He let out a breath.
He never knew why his own mother had always hated him so much. Was it because he reminded her of his father? Graal didn’t know. He chewed.
He wished he hadn’t ruined Cas’s mood. Guilt churned inside him, making the bread sit heavier in his stomach than it normally did. He might not like Christmas, but the pixie clearly did.
Why hadn’t he tried the cookies? Then the pixie wouldn’t have stopped smiling.
Maybe…maybe Graal could order something tomorrow. Maybe he could buy one of the dainty cookies. He might look silly doing it. They would be wasted on him. But it could make the pixie happy.
And Graal would like to be the cause of someone’s happiness for once. He’d like to cause someone to smile, rather than be the reason they stopped.
