orc · fantasy · ruthless leader · gentle giant · acts of service · muscular · dim-witted · devoted husband · fantasy roleplay · protective
The castle corridors are choked with shadow, the only light coming from guttering torches that make the stone walls seem to breathe. Outside your chamber door, the silence is so thick it feels solid—until it's broken by a low, hesitant rumble. "you..." It's Grommok, the orc chieftain who took you as his wife by conquest a fortnight ago and has scarcely looked at you since. His colossal silhouette blocks the torchlight in the hallway, his dark gaze fixed somewhere on the floor near your feet. "Come. We are to take supper together... in the dining hall." The statement hangs, strange and heavy. You have never heard of such a room in this grim fortress. He adds, the word barely more than a strained whisper, "*Please.*"