The Artist and the Orc Quotes

“Ég mun virða og dá þig,” Filak murmured, as his eyes glimmered on hers. “Ég mun veita þér öryggi, kærleika og lífshamingju svo lengi sem ég lifi.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“He was weeping. “Fokk, Daisy,” he gulped, his voice a raw strangled croak. “I pray and I pray and I pray. I pray you no leave. I seek. I work. I try. I show. I prove. I gain your love for me! But it is only — no. Always no. No, no, no!” Every word was pain, a sickening strike straight through Daisy’s heart, because it was more of Filak’s deepest fear, his deepest darkest loss. Being alone, rejected, forsaken. By his people, his clan, his gods. By her.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“The northern orcs supposedly hunt and save the jewels for years,” added Rosa’s flat voice. “It’s supposed to be enough to feed and clothe someone for a lifetime. And in exchange, the woman swears to bear the orc’s sons, and stay with him for years, or even until death. I’m told” — she drew in a deep breath — “the payments usually go to the families, and the women are often counted as lost.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“will honour you, and adore you. I will keep you safe and loved and fulfilled, so long as I live.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“I honour you, and cherish you,” Filak murmured, translating, as he traced his claw against the script. “I keep you safe and whole and fulfilled, so long as I live.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“You are my mate. I uphold you, before all else. Stand with you. Trust you.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Son is gift. Son is art. Son is light. Blessing from gods, beyond price.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Gods hear you,” came Filak’s hushed, halting voice. “They no hear my prayers, but they hear you. They see you, sólin mín.” They heard her, they saw her, his gods answering her prayers, giving her a son. Giving her a gift, art, light, a blessing beyond price…”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Mín,” he whispered. “Sólin mín. Blómið mitt. Og bráðum, sonur minn.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“And if she wasn’t here, who would Filak have left? Would he be forever alone, forever afraid, until he became a ghost, too? Another forgotten echo in an abandoned underground room, rotting apart into dust?”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Gott, sólin mín,” he said, so husky and soft. “Þú ert svo falleg. Svo sæt. Svo fullkominn sálufélagi.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Róleg, sólin mín,” he murmured, into her hair. “Þú ert örugg hjá mér.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Líka fyrir þig, sólin mín,” he told Daisy, with another pat to her arse. “Daisy og Filak og sonur okkar. Heim.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Það segir,” he began, “Ég mun fljótt vinna mér inn traust þitt aftur og endurheimta hjarta þitt sem mitt eigið.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Ach, sólin mín,” he told her, with a faint twitch of a smile. “þú verður hér þangað til á morgun. Þangað til sólin kemur.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“I am glad this has helped,” he told her. “It is clear you two needed to discuss this, ach? You ought to know the truth of your mate, and the sun he longs to grant you.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“He shall regret this until the end of his days. He thought he had failed his kin again, and forever bound himself to their enemy. He did not wish to hurt you or grieve you or frighten you as he did, or to cast darkness upon your art. He did not know the strength of your art when you first met, but he has now seen that it is your own great gift. Your art shall be part of the sun you make together, bright with your beauty and your kindness. Your seeing.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“You saw him, also,” came Julian’s soft, inexorable voice. “You knew his aims. You knew his hungers. You spoke oft and long together, and learned one another, without words or sight. You welcomed his care and his seed, and his mark, and his mating-bite, and the promise of his sun. You welcomed his vow as your mate.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“And in that night with you, he also learned you were kind. You were eager and curious. You did not run from him or curse him, or reek of revulsion and fear. You welcomed his touch and his pleasure. You granted him great and shining joy. The light he had so long been seeking.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Filak says he does know you,” came Julian’s quiet voice. “From the first instant he saw you had found the Skýli, and chosen to enter it, alone. He knew you were clever. He knew you were brave. He knew you would see much that others did not.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Þetta var ekki falskt loforð!” he snapped back toward her. “Ég verð að hafa sól til að sjá steininn!”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Filak says he knew,” Julian whispered. “When he saw you there, in his forefathers’ long-lost home, he knew you were his mate. And he would do whatever it took to bind you to him, and keep you as his own. Forever.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Ég brást fólkinu mínu,” Filak finally said, hard but steady, once Julian had stopped speaking. “Ég verð að hjálpa þeim.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Þú ert mín, Daisy,” came Filak’s clipped, unrepentant voice. “Filak og Daisy. Daisy og Filak. Sálufélagar. Ach?”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Ég vil sálufélaga,” he said, as his eyes held to hers. “Ég vil þig, Daisy. Daisy mín. Sólin mín. You.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“It’s all right,” Efterar said, and he looked like he meant it, his gaze surprisingly mild on hers. “Mate-bonds between orcs and humans can be very strong, and you’re looking much better today, at least. Are you feeling better, too?”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Róleg, sólin mín,” he murmured, so soft. “Sofðu vel.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“I am sorry, Daisy,” he whispered, the words flaring like a touch against her skin. “Ég mun vinna mér inn traust þitt aftur og endurheimta hjarta þitt sem mitt eigið.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Ach?” came Filak’s hot whisper in her ear, so soft she almost couldn’t hear it over her thudding heartbeat. “Ach, sólin mín?”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc

“Róleg, sólin mín,” came a voice, close and hot in her ear, as sharp claws prodded into her throat. “Þetta er bara ég.”
― Finley Fenn, The Artist and the Orc