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MidReal Story
Forbidden Love's Redemption
Anonymous
Apr 22
Scenario:A female elf falls in love with an orc
Create my version of this story
For a moment, everything went still.
Eyes like glowing coals, shining bright in the darkness as he fixed me with his gaze.
“And she is an elf,” he said thoughtfully.
I straightened up slowly, my heart pounding in my chest as I scanned the trees around me, searching for the source of the growl.
There were too many of them, and they were too fast.
The Darkwood Forest was a place that not many dared to venture into.
I locked eyes with the chieftain, and in that moment, I knew who he was.
He didn’t take another step forward.
As soon as he said it, I knew what was coming.
I raised my bow, nocked an arrow, and drew back the string as I stepped forward into the clearing.
But there was no sign of anything amiss.
I knew what his name meant, and why it was whispered like a curse among my people.
The clearing was empty, save for a few twisted trees and a large boulder that sat at its center.
He didn’t attack me.
My heart shuddered to a halt inside my chest, and my breath caught in my throat.
Most of them were content to let the dense foliage and the twisted trees keep their secrets, secrets that had been long forgotten by the world.
But before I could even aim, another figure emerged from the trees on the other side of the clearing—
And then another, and another, until I was surrounded by a whole band of orcs, their eyes glowing in the darkness as they stared at me with naked hunger and malice.
Grugnir Blackaxe, the orc chieftain.
It was a dangerous place, even for the war-hardened orcs that called it home.
He just stood there, as still and silent as a statue, staring at me with those burning eyes—those burning red eyes that seemed to see right into my heart.
I took a step back, frowning as I looked around.
For a moment, I could see nothing but darkness, but I knew enough of what was going on to realize that the orcs had formed a circle around me.
Had I imagined the growl?
I froze in place, my heart pounding even harder than before as I realized just how much trouble I was in.
As an elf, I had grown up hearing stories of the Darkwood Forest, stories about the orcs that lived within its borders, and of the dangers that lurked there.
There were dozens of them at least, maybe even hundreds, their heavy boots crunching against the forest floor as they came to get a closer look.
The monster who had raided our villages, burned our homes, and killed our people.
I stared back at him in silence, hardly daring to breathe.
As they came to hear his judgment.
Or was there something out there watching me?
The forest had been trying to warn me all along—and I had been too stubborn to listen.
The Butcher of the Bloodwood.
For a long time—though it might have only been a few seconds—it was just us.
But I had never been one to shy away from danger, or from adventure for that matter, and when the call of the forest had come, I had found myself unable to resist.
Another low growl answered my question, and I froze in place.
The Darkwood Forest was beyond the borders of our lands, but it was close enough that we could not ignore it.
A chill ran down my spine as I wondered if it had been trying to warn me about the wolves…or the orcs?
I’d heard the stories, just like everyone else.
And then, at last, Grugnir gave it.
Just him and me, standing there in the dark, with a hundred hungry orcs looking on—and then, before I knew what I was doing, I spoke.
The tales of devastation and destruction, of Grugnir and his horde sweeping across the land like a plague, leaving nothing but death and despair in their wake.
“Bind her,” he said simply.
I don’t know what I said.
It was coming from the other side of the clearing, and it sounded closer this time, more menacing.
Another gust of wind sent a shiver down my spine, and the flickering shadows on the forest floor seemed to close in around me, trapping me in this moment of peril.
The orcs had long been our enemies, and they still presented a threat to us, even though they were fewer in number than they had once been.
I’d seen the aftermath with my own eyes—the scorched earth, the broken bodies, the families torn apart.
Impossible, I told myself even as I felt the truth of it down to my very bones.
My heart pounded in my chest, and I took another step back as I scanned the trees.
And just like that, my world went black.
I don’t know if I even spoke out loud.
As a ranger of the Sylvan Order, it was my duty to protect our lands from any threat, whether it be from outside or within.
This time, the clearing wasn’t empty.
The next thing I knew, I was lying on the ground with my arms pinned behind my back and my cheek pressed against the dirt.
But something inside me had broken free, some part of me that wasn’t afraid anymore, that wasn’t thinking about the danger or the consequences—and another part was answering back.
There was no way it could have been a coincidence—
The orcs had been our enemies for as long as anyone could remember, but even among them, Grugnir was feared and reviled.
That was why I found myself in this cursed place, my heart heavy with the knowledge that my kin believed me lost in battle, if they believed me alive at all.
It was not a decision that I made lightly, for I knew the dangers that lay ahead.
Another part of me that was looking into those burning red eyes and feeling something strange.
And now he was looking at me.
I couldn’t see anything but grass and moss and blood-red leaves, but I could hear them—dozens of orcs, grunting and growling and shouting at each other as they went about their work.
The moon emerged from behind a cloud, casting a silvery light over the trees and the boulder at the center of the clearing.
And there was no way I was getting out of this alive.
And above them all, I could hear him—Grugnir Blackaxe himself—as he strode through their midst, barking out orders and calling for his lieutenants to assemble.
But none of that mattered now, for here I was, alone in the Darkwood Forest.
I don’t know how long we stood there together, locked in that strange and silent embrace.
And as it did, I saw them.
My hands were shaking as I stood there, my bow raised but useless in the face of such overwhelming odds.
The orcs grunted and snarled at me, their voices deep and guttural as they circled around me in a wave of green skin and flashing tusks.
A pack of wolves, their fur as black as the night, circled the boulder, growling and snarling at something—or someone—I couldn’t see.
“Sound the war drums,” he was saying.
The orcs were all around us, still and watchful, waiting for their master’s command.
The forest was as dark as its name suggested, even in the light of day.
I couldn’t understand what they were saying, but I didn’t need to.
The chieftain snarled at me in his deep, rumbling voice, but I could barely hear him over the pounding of my own heart in my ears.
But Grugnir didn’t move.
I tried to speak, but my throat was dry and tight, and no sound would come out.
The thick canopy of leaves overhead blocked out most of the sun’s light, casting long shadows across the forest floor.
“We march at first light.”
Their language was one of aggression and violence, loud enough that even I could understand it—and they were speaking it loud and clear.
My breath caught in my throat as I watched them, my heart pounding with a mix of fear and curiosity.
I swallowed hard, trying to force it down, but it didn’t help.
The trees were twisted and gnarled, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers towards the sky.
He didn’t speak.
One of them stepped forward, his axe raised high over his head as he bared his teeth at me in a feral snarl.
What were they doing here?
I don’t know how long I lay there in silence afterward, bound and helpless and alone.
Eerie whispers filled the air, though I could not quite make out their source.
He just stood there, staring at me with those terrible eyes, as if he were seeing me for the first time—really seeing me, in a way that no one ever had before.
The wolves continued to circle the boulder, their eyes glowing in the darkness as they growled and snarled.
It felt like an eternity at least—but maybe it was only minutes before I heard that familiar sound once more: Grugnir’s heavy boots coming toward me through the grass.
I reached for an arrow in my quiver, readying myself for the attack that I knew was coming—but even as I did, I knew it was no use.
I raised my bow, nocked an arrow, and drew back the string as I took a step back, but even as I did, I knew it was no use.
My elven senses were keen, but even they were not enough to pierce the darkness that shrouded this place.
And I was seeing him too, in a way that I had never imagined that I could—seeing him not as a monster, but as a man.
I tensed as soon as I heard him coming, but there was nothing I could do to stop him from reaching me.
The orcs were too close for me to get away—
There were too many of them.
There was something unnatural about them, something that made my skin crawl.
They were too close.
And yet, it wasn’t the wolves that held my gaze.
For all his scars and his size and his terrible reputation, there was something almost human in his gaze, something almost tender—as if he were seeing not an enemy, but a friend.
I could hear him crouching down beside me, his massive frame casting a shadow over me where I lay.
My footsteps were muffled by the thick layer of leaves that covered the ground, and the only sounds came from the rustling of branches as a gentle breeze danced through the forest and the occasional creaking of a tree limb swaying in the wind.
And there were too many of them for me to fight.
I was surrounded on all sides, with no hope of escape.
I tried to think, to remember my training—to keep my wits about me and not to show any weakness in front of the enemy—but it was no use.
I could smell him too—the sharp, musky scent of his sweat—and I could feel his eyes on me as he studied me in silence once more.
As if he were seeing not a warrior, but a woman.
It was the figure at the center of the clearing.
There were no birds singing here, no animals scurrying through the underbrush, no sign of life at all.
The orc chieftain emerged from the trees on the other side of the clearing, and even though I couldn’t see his face, I knew it was him.
His breath fell against my cheek in short, ragged bursts, so hot that I could feel it even through my cloak.
I don’t know what made me think it, let alone say it—but suddenly, somehow, I found myself speaking again.
This place was dead, or so it seemed.
Grugnir’s gaze held mine like a vice, and in that moment, all thoughts of strategy flew from my mind.
A massive orc, his skin as green as the leaves of the forest and his tusks gleaming in the dim light.
The orc who had fought off the wolves with nothing but his bare hands.
I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly; trying to calm my racing heart.
He stood with his back to me, his head bowed and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
He took a step forward, his enormous form casting a long shadow over the ground as he moved closer and closer.
“I’m not afraid of you,” I said softly, my voice barely more than a whisper in the dark.
But still he didn’t speak.
I don’t know what made me say it, but something inside me was urging me on, some part of me that was reaching out across the divide between us, desperate to bridge the gap.
For a long moment, he just knelt there beside me in silence, gazing at me with those terrible eyes—as if he were seeing something new and strange and wonderful that he didn’t quite know what to make of.
Despite all of this, I pressed on, guided by the faint shimmer of moonlight filtering through the dense canopy above.
The orc who had been watching me from the shadows.
Even from this distance, I could see the muscles rippling beneath his green skin.
The chieftain took another step forward, and I took a step back.
I had hoped that this journey would bring me some peace, some sense of calm after all that had transpired in recent days.
My bow was still raised, my arrow still nocked and drawn, but I knew even then that there was no hope.
And maybe he was.
I’m not afraid, I wanted to say.
The orc who was Grugnir Blackaxe.
He was massive and powerful, with the presence of a predator who knew he had nothing to fear.
I’m not your enemy.
My heart skipped a beat as he stepped into the clearing, his massive frame casting a long shadow over the ground as he moved.
Maybe he was seeing something new and strange.
But instead of tranquility, all I felt was an overwhelming sense of foreboding that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and sent shivers racing down my spine.
And yet, there was something else about him that I couldn’t quite place.
I couldn’t fight them all.
But before I could find my voice—and before he could find his—the moment was over.
He was even bigger up close than he had been from a distance.
I couldn’t get away.
Because as he studied me, I was studying him too, in a way that I never had before.
Something that set my nerves on edge and made my skin prickle with unease.
The orc raised his head, his eyes burning with an unnatural intensity as he looked around the clearing.
In a way that no one ever had before.
The world rushed back around us like a flood, and suddenly, we were no longer alone.
Taller, broader, more dangerous.
My mind was racing, my thoughts a jumbled mess of fear and panic, but through it all, one thing was clear.
His skin was as green as fresh leaves, with scars crisscrossing his arms and chest like twisted vines.
In a way that no one else had ever dared to do.
The orc chieftain was going to kill me.
I had traveled deeper into the Darkwood Forest than I ever had before.
“Chieftain,” one of the lieutenants grunted, breaking the spell.
His gaze locked onto mine, and for a long moment, we stared at each other across the distance.
His tusks gleamed in the moonlight as he bared them at me in a feral snarl, but it was his eyes that held me captive.
A part of me screamed to run, to flee back into the safety of the forest and forget that I had ever seen him.
Grugnir Blackaxe was going to kill me, just like he had killed so many others before me—and there was nothing I could do to stop him.
“We found this one skulking around our camp.”
It was a dangerous place with its own kind of beauty.
For a moment, our eyes met, and something strange passed between us—a flicker of recognition, of understanding, of warmth.
And for a moment, just for a moment, it felt like we were connected.
Grugnir’s gaze flicked away from mine for just an instant before returning once more.
But another part of me—the part that was curious and reckless—held me in place.
But there was something about that beauty that felt wrong.
I tried to speak, to beg for my life, but I couldn’t find my voice.
They were dark and fathomless, burning with an unnatural intensity that made my skin prickle with unease.
He stepped closer and laid his hand on my cheek, turning my face gently to one side so he could examine my mark.
It felt like we were meant to be together.
The forest was too quiet.
As we stood there, staring at each other across the clearing, I realized with a start that he looked familiar somehow.
The words caught in my throat, stifled by my terror as I stood there, frozen in place.
His eyes were locked on mine, shining in the darkness like twin stars as he reached out his massive hand—and then suddenly, he stopped.
But then he looked away, rising to his feet once more, and the moment was over.
Too still and too dead.
My eyes fell shut as his rough fingers brushed against my skin, tracing their way up to my pointed ear and then down again to my chin.
I had never seen him before, of that much I was certain.
And yet… There was something about him that tugged at the edges of my mind, a strange recognition that made my heart pound even faster than before.
For a long moment, he was silent—just like he had been before—and then he spoke at last.
Despite my training as a ranger and my elven senses, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.
“Take her with us,” he said, his voice hard.
That something was stalking me from the shadows, just waiting for the right moment to strike.
“We’ll decide what to do with her in the morning.”
But before I could make sense of it, the orc stepped away from the boulder—and the wolves growled even louder than before.
And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away, his heavy boots receding once more into the dark.
He turned to face them and held up his hands in a placating gesture, but the wolves weren’t interested in listening.
I held my bow at the ready and my quiver of arrows slung over my shoulder.
And suddenly, just like that, he was gone.
They surged toward him in a wave of black fur and snapping jaws—and he raised his hands to meet them.
As an elf of the Sylvan Order and the daughter of a noble house, I had been trained in the art of archery from a young age.
My heart pounded in my chest as soon as he left, but still, I couldn’t move.
I was an excellent shot and could draw and fire my bow quickly and silently when needed.
I gasped as he started fighting them off one by one.
For now, I kept my bow unstrung and my arrows in their quiver.
He moved so quickly that I almost couldn’t see him at all—just flickers of green skin and flashing tusks as he fought off the wolves with ease.
I had no desire to draw attention to myself if I didn’t have to.
But even though he was holding his own against them, I knew he wouldn’t be able to keep it up forever.
I moved through the underbrush with slow and deliberate steps, careful not to make any noise that would give away my position.
The moon had risen higher in the sky by now.
Its silvery light cast an ethereal glow over the forest, illuminating the twisted trees and casting long shadows across the forest floor.
But the moonlight did little to dispel the darkness that shrouded the forest or the unease that settled deep in the pit of my stomach.
I drew in another slow breath, trying to calm myself as I continued on my journey, but it did little to help.
My heart pounded in my chest, and sweat beaded on my brow despite the chill in the air.
I had been walking for several hours by now, and I was tired and hungry and beginning to lose focus.
I needed to find a safe place to rest and soon, but there was no sign of one anywhere around me.
A sudden gust of wind sent a chill through me, causing me to shiver.
But it wasn’t the cold that made me shiver so violently.
It was the whispers that followed in the wind, so faint that I almost didn’t hear them at all.
The whispers were unnatural and indistinct, like a voice that had been stretched thin and distorted until it was just a faint murmur.
They seemed to come from all around me, whispering secrets that I couldn’t quite make out.
My blood ran cold, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end.
My elven senses screamed at me to be cautious, and I readied my bow and notched an arrow in case I needed it.
But even with all of that, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
That something terrible was about to happen.
The whispers faded away, and silence fell over the forest once more.
The only sounds were the rustling of leaves and the creaking of branches swaying in the wind.
I took a step forward, and that was when it happened.
My foot caught on a root, sending me stumbling forward with a gasp.
I managed to catch myself before I fell flat on my face, but as I did, a low growl rumbled through the air, sending a shiver down my spine.
