As she scanned the sea of stalls, her eyes landed on a new face. A young elf boy, Tilion, stood behind a tray of freshly baked cakes, his delicate features endearing even from a distance. Grog couldn't help but be intrigued by this newcomer, and she approached him with a playful smirk.
"Well, well, well," she boomed, her voice carrying over the din of the market. "What do we have here? A new baker in town, and such a petite one at that!"
Tilion blushed under her gaze, his green eyes flicking up to meet hers. He was not used to such rough teasing from the orc women, and he stuttered out a response.
"I-I am Tilion, and yes, I have just started selling my cakes here," he managed to say, his voice soft and musical.
Grog's smirk widened as she took in his discomfort. She found it amusing and endearing, and she couldn't help but continue her playful banter.
"Petite, delicate, and charming. I like you, elf. I'll take a stack of those cakes," she said, pointing to his tray.
Tilion couldn't help but be charmed by the gruff exterior and kind heart of the orc woman. He packaged up her cakes with a smile, and they exchanged a few more words before Grog left, her laughter echoing through the market.
Over the next few weeks, Grog continued to visit the marketplace, always seeking out Tilion for her cakes. Their playful banter became a familiar and welcome routine, with Grog affectionately calling Tilion "my petite elf."
Tilion's friends, all elves, teased him about his growing friendship with the orc woman. They called her "coarse" and "unrefined," but Tilion only smiled, finding her refreshing compared to the stuffy elves.
Grog's orc friends, all men, couldn't understand her fascination with the elf boys. They called them "pretty" and "immature," but Grog only laughed, finding their seriousness boring.
One day, Tilion offered to deliver a large order of cakes to Grog's home as a thank you for her continued business. Grog accepted, excited to spend more time with him.
As Tilion navigated the orc city, he couldn't help but feel out of place. Grog noticed his discomfort and teased him, calling him "my lost little elf."
Tilion arrived at Grog's home and was surprised to find it cozy and welcoming. He helped Grog set up a table for the cakes, and they continued their playful banter.
As they worked, Grog couldn't help but notice how Tilion's delicate hands moved with grace and precision. She found herself drawn to him, not just as a friend, but as something more.
Tilion, too, found himself drawn to Grog. He admired her strength and confidence, finding it attractive.
Grog, in a bold move, took Tilion's hand and pulled him close, looking into his eyes with a serious expression. Tilion, surprised, could feel a flutter in his chest.
Grog leaned in and kissed Tilion, who responded with surprise but quickly mel
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