The Raptor | By : Wildfaerie Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 6784 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Wow and all references belong to Blizzard. This is for my fun, not for profit. |
The Raptor: Ch. 1
A young Night Elf had just returned home after a long day of hunting and skinning. Leatherworking was her craft and her work was exceptional. People came from all over Azeroth to buy her goods. It didn’t even matter faction or race, all came for her beautifully crafted gear. It was one of the reasons this particular Night Elf had chosen to live in the neutral port town of Ratchet. It was also why both factions tolerated her.
Aeia was an oddity among her people. Other cultures fascinated her, especially those of the Horde races. They were just so primal and full of life compared to the quiet and proper traditions of her people. She especially found the Trolls and their customs particularly fascinating. They just seemed to radiate life. She was also obsessed with the Zandali language. It was just so fluid and exotic, it seemed to physically flow over her body in a warm caress whenever she heard it.
Humming to herself, Aeia began stowing away her haul from the day’s hunt. She had fully restocked her leather stores. The skins stilled needed to be cleaned, stretched, and cured, but she would do that in the morning, seeing as how the sun was already starting to sink on the horizon. Opening another bag, she removed several pounds of choice cuts of meat. They would see her nicely fed for a couple of weeks and there was still plenty left to sell for a nice profit. ‘Perks of being a skinner,’ she thought as she put them in a small pantry that had been enchanted to stay cold, keeping her perishables from spoiling.
She had to admit, as lonely as it could be for a member of the Alliance in the mostly Horde town of Ratchet, she had it pretty good and loved her life here. Once everything had been put away properly, she headed upstairs. She lived above her little leather shop and it couldn’t be more perfect. Her skin was hot and grime covered from the day out in the Barren’s heat. Her armor needed to be cleaned and could use some slight repairs as well. Beasts tended to have sharp claws and she saw a few nicks here and there that needed to be smoothed out. She herself needed a bath. Her skin felt sticky from sweat and a layer of dust, grime, and a strange clump of what she thought was raptor blood, clung to her skin. Heading into her bedroom, she proceeded to strip out of her leather and mail armor, draping it over the form in the corner so the leather would keep its shape.
Once all her armor was removed and hung up, Aeia made her way into the adjoining bathroom. A couple of the local goblins had helped her set it up. There was a huge round tub slightly sunken into the middle of the room. It was large enough that three people could have sat comfortably. That suited her just fine, she loved the spaciousness and after a long day in the blistering Barren’s sun, she loved to spread out for a long cool soak and let the day disappear down the drain. The pipes that carried in the water from the rain barrels behind her home had been enchanted, the lever on the left brought cold water while the right held hot. Opting for a cool bath, she let the tub fill.
Sitting on the edge of the low tub, Aeia started working the braids out of her sea foam hair. She usually wore many small braids that ran along each side of her head, the rest of her hair was loose and ran along the top of her head to cascade down her back. She had seen the hairstyle on a trolless and thought it not only looked beautiful and exotic, but functional as well. It kept most of her hair off her in the oppressive heat and when she undid the braids it gave her hair a beautiful wave. By the time she was done, the tub was filled. Aeia lowered herself into the cool clear water and let the dirt and stress of the day wash away.
The early morning sun found Aeia in her shop preparing the leather and pelts she had brought back the day before. She had the front door and large front window open, showing that her shop was already open and ready for business. She loved rising with the sun. It was just so peaceful before all the hustle and bustle of the day began. Sitting in front of a stretched piece of prowler fur, Aeia began combing through the fur, removing any dirt and debris. Carefully she scraped the underside, scratching away any muscle or sinew that may still be attached. When she was done, she moved the rack outside to a small fenced area beside her shop. The skin needed to dry as it was stretched.
As she worked, the beads in her hair clinked together and she started to hum. It was an old Zandalari tune that a tribal elder had taught her. He had come to her in desperate need of repairs but hadn’t been able to afford her prices. Her fascination with trolls had won out and she agreed to fix his gear in exchange for the song. He had taught her the tune and lyrics but hadn’t had the time to translate it to common for her. That was fine, she preferred its native tongue anyways.
Returning to the front of her store, Aeia could see the first ship of the day unloading passengers at the docks. Quickly, she went inside, making sure her wares were nicely laid out in case any potential customers came by. A loud screech behind her had her whirling about with a smack to her forehead. A beautiful teal raptor chittered at her from his bed in the back corner of the room. She had completely forgotten about his breakfast. Aeia withdrew a few frenzytooth steaks from her chilled pantry and tossed them to the grateful raptor. His jaws snapping them up greedily. Aeia ran her hands down his scaly neck, softly cooing at the beast. She had found him wandering the Barrens as a hatchling, half-starved and seemingly without a pack. Immediately, she had fallen in love with the little guy and brought him home to care for. That had been nearly six years ago. They had become inseparable. She had named him Atal’ai, which in Zandali meant ‘devoted one’ because he never left her side. She may not be able to fluently speak Zandali, but she had picked up quite a bit in her travels and studies.
Atal’ai started chirping and nudged her shoulder towards her front door. ‘Customers,’ she yipped in her head. An Orc, a Troll, and a Forsaken wandered into her shop. With a smile, she greeted them in Orcish. She had convinced a local goblin to teach her so she could communicate with her customers. The three were a little shocked to see a Night Elf speaking to them in fluent Orcish, but they quickly got over it while looking through her wares.
The Orc was obviously a hunter as a beautiful black lion prowled gracefully at his side. Atal’ai immediately went to investigate the potential new friend. The Orc, who’s name she learned was Krolak, turned out to be a chatty fellow and they talked while their pets circled each other before breaking into what looked like a game of tag. The Troll and Forsaken hadn’t said a word, but when Atal’ai brushed against the troll in his dash after Soot, she learned, he did turn startled eyes from the raptor to Aeia.
Attention swinging back to Krolak, Aeia didn’t notice the Troll leave her shop. Krolak needed a completely new set of armor. He didn’t care the cost if the quality matched. He was hoping for something more durable then what he was currently wearing for he and the Forsaken priest were heading out through the dark portal to new old Draenor. ‘Alternate timelines are so damn confusing,’ she thought. She herself had come back from there a few weeks ago. She had joined a group of adventurers and helped to bring down Archimonde yet again. Really though, she had only joined for the mount that was promised for bringing him down. She loved animals and had been an avid mount collector. Her full stables on the outskirts of Ratchet could attest to that.
Aeia took his measurements and promised to have his armor complete in one week’s time. She needed to get together supplies for such advanced gear. Krolak happily agreed, shaking her hand to complete the deal. He and the silent Forsaken left the shop and Aeia went outside to look for Atal’ai. She spotted him and Soot peacefully napping with each other in the shade of a nearby tree. Deciding to leave him to his nap, she started to turn back to head inside and almost ran smack into the troll from earlier.
Letting out a curse in Zandali, a nasty habit she had picked up from the elder that taught her the song, Aeia started to apologize in Orcish. She was interrupted when the troll tugged on one of her braids and asked something in Zandali. “I don’t speak Zandali, sorry. But I know you said something about my raptor,” she replied in Orcish. “I be wonderin’ bout dat. Da Darkspear don teach many outsidahs our language. But ya got da mouth of an eldah,” he chuckled. “I be askin’ where ya got dat rapta? He ain’ a Barren’s breed. If I didn’a know bettah, I’d say he was one o’ Swiftclaw’s but dat be impossible. Doe dey markin’s be da same,” the troll continued lost in thought as he ran a hand down his impressive tusk. “I don’t know who Swiftclaw is, but I found Atal’ai as a hatchling wondering the Barrens scared and alone about six years ago. Though he did have this around his neck,” she pulled one of her longer braids from behind her shoulder. Woven into the bottom was a thick leather cord and large bluish black claw.
The troll’s eyes lit up in recognition. “Aye, dat be one o’ Swiftclaw’s claws. We be puttin’ dat ‘round da neck of ‘is hatchlin’s ta identify dem. But how he be here? Ya said six years ago?” Aeia nodded. “Dat bout da time o’ da great Cataclysm n’ many hatchlin’s got swept ta sea. But dat he survived ‘n was found out ‘ere. Dat be one lucky rapta. And you be one strong hunta, for Swiftclaw’s brood be damn hard ta control. Dey some o’ da best raptas us Darkspear got. Ya be one lucky Elfie,” he finished. Aeia didn’t know what to think. She had known Atal’ai was special, she just didn’t realize how special.
“I dun wanna, but I really should be returnin’ ‘im ta da Darkspear. He belong ta da trolls, not some Elfie,” he stated looking almost sad. “You can’t take him. He’s been with me for so long. He’s become a part of me, I couldn’t bear to lose him,” she pleaded. “I tell ya wha’, we gonna let da rapta choose. It be only fair ta him. If he obeys mah commands, he be comin’ wit’ meh, but if not, he be stayin’ wit’ ya,” the troll offered. With a defiant nod, she accepted his terms. She didn’t want to lose Atal’ai, but if he’d rather be with his kin, she wouldn’t stop him. But deep down she knew he wouldn’t abandon her. The troll gave a series of clicks and whistles and Atal’ai responded immediately. The raptor came straight over to the troll looking confused but interested, his intelligent eyes darting between his mistress and the troll. Aeia’s heart began to sink, but when the troll beckoned Atal’ai to leave, the raptor took one look at the troll and planted himself at Aeia’s side.
“Aye, ya be one strange Elfie. Da raptor truly be yours, mon. Da commands I made be ingrained in dem at birth, but he be denyin’ em for ya,” the troll said again, stroking his tusk pensively. The troll muttered something to himself in Zandali before turning back to Aeia. “What be ya name Elfie?” he asked. “Aeia,” she replied simply. With a nod, the troll responded, “I be Rohkan.” Startled, Aeia asked, “I’ve heard that name before. In Northrend I believe…” she trailed off in thought. She was certain that name was familiar to her. Surprised the troll spoke, “Ya probly met ‘im in Dragonblight. Dere be a troll dragon slayer wit’ mah name doe spelled a bit differently. Dat be mah fatha. “Aven’t seen ‘im in years doe. Surprised an Elfie would member ‘im let alone ‘is name.” Aeia was floored. Not only had she met his father, but they had come to respect each other. “You’re a druid, aren’t you? Your father talked about you. Said he couldn’t believe his son walked the path of Cenarius, but that he was proud of your accomplishments. And though ne never said as much, I could tell he missed you and regretted being away. I met him while exploring Dragonblight. I was freezing and had gotten lost in the snow. His camp fire’s light drew me and at first, I thought I was dead when I realized I had stumbled into a Horde camp, but Rohkan had held up his hand and stayed their arrows. He said there was no honor in killing a lost elf just trying to find warmth in the snowy wasteland and welcomed me to sit at the fire. I was still young and inexperienced and I had looked at him in awe. That was when I started learning all I could about the other cultures, specifically troll. I had never before seen kindness from a Horde member and it made me rethink so many things. I owe a lot to your father, including my life. It had just been so many years since I’ve thought about him, let alone his name.”
Rohkan’s expression held both surprise and something else. Intrigue perhaps. “Ya just keep gettin’ mo’ interestin’ Elfie,” he muttered to himself in Zandali. In Orcish he said, “So mah fatha be why ya be lookin’ mo’ troll den Elf?” Aeia blushed a bit, “I guess you could say that. I am the way I am because I respect your culture. I’m also fascinated by it.” “Dat be so? Mebbe ol’ Rohkan stick around for a while. See just how interestin’ ya can be, Elfie,” Rohkan said with a chuckle. “Aeia,” she glared at him. “Not Elfie, Aeia.” “Alright den Aeia, be seein’ ya ‘round.” And with that he left.
Aeia didn’t know what to think about the whole encounter. Her emotions were all over the place. Starting with excitement at talking to a troll that seemed interested in her, then running the gambit from fear, anger, and pride concerning her raptor companion, to shock, awe, and confusion on learning who he and his father were and his declaration to get to know her. Unfortunately, she would just have to wait and see what became of this. Cooing to Atal’ai, they both made their way into their home. The sunset eyes that were watching them going unnoticed.
Rohkan had come to Ratchet tagging along with his buddy Krolak. The orc had teased Rohkan about a beautiful and strange Night Elf that crafted exquisite armor matched only by her beauty. Sometimes he seriously regretted letting his friend know that he found Night Elf women beautiful. Today was one of those days. But at the same time, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do, so he came along. Running a hand through his unruly mop of bright green hair, he had followed Krolak into the shop. Only mildly disturbed at being accompanied by Drake, the undead priest that decided to come with them. The Forsaken bothered him on three levels. He himself as a troll disliked the smell and brought to mind too much dark voodoo, as a druid his mind railed against the unnaturalness of him, and just personally he found them off putting.
Walking into the shop, he had not been prepared for what he found. Yes, there were all kinds of beautiful armor pieces on display, but here and there were knick-knacks representing various cultures. The Horde cultures seemed to take up the most space, with trollish items being at the forefront. ‘This couldn’t be a Night Elf’s shop,’ he thought. They don’t ever seem to show interest in anything but themselves and nature. He had met a few in his studies in Moonglade and they only seemed to tolerate his presence, but just barely. This place however, felt almost like a shrine to his people and those of the Horde. One Tiki mask in particular caught his attention. It was a rare one. It looked to have come from the frost trolls of Zul’Drak. She had apparently been an adventurer or explorer to have come across such a rare find. Those trolls wouldn’t have parted with it easily. The mask was a representation of one of their war Loa’s. A Loa that the Darkspear would have liked to have learned more about, but the hostilities of the Zul’Drak trolls wouldn’t allow for much information trading. His thoughts were disrupted when a beautiful and very recognizable raptor raced by him chasing after Soot. ‘It’s not possible.’ The raptor had identical markings to Swiftclaw, which meant he had to be one of his whelps. Again, not possible. Swiftclaw rarely bred and his offspring were highly coveted within the Darkspear. There was no way an outsider had one. Glancing from the raptor to the elf, her beauty and strangeness stunned him. Quickly, he slipped back out the door.
Rohkan allowed his bones to break and melt as he brought his tiger nature to the forefront. Slipping into the shadows, he prowled over to the tree the two pets had sheltered under. ‘Markings are absolutely identical,’ he thought looking over the raptor. Said raptor’s head swinging about sensing his presence. Bright yellow eyes stared right at him. ‘Smart one too,’ Rohkan padded closer to the tree and leapt up on a low-slung branch. He wanted to think. His mind however kept drifting to the odd yet beautiful elf. If it hadn’t been for her soft purple skin, glowing silver eyes, and her delicate features, she could almost be mistaken for a troll. Beads and braids had adorned her hair, her long ears were pierced and studded, she even had a fang shoved through her left earlobe. Her very presence seemed much more alive and welcoming compared to others of her kind.
Fascination coursed through him. He just had to learn more about her. When he saw his friend leave, he jumped down and told them he would catch up later. Krolak gave Rohkan a knowing wink and he and the undead wandered off towards the inn. Seeing the elf outside, he prowled over and slipped behind her. Quickly and quietly, he let his form shift back to his familiar troll shape and waited for her to notice. He was not quite prepared when she had turned and nearly ran straight into his chest.
She had quickly caught herself and was apologizing in Orcish. Oh, how he hated that language. It was all grunts and harsh sounds compared to his native tongue. It especially sounded awful coming from the beautiful creature before him. Reaching for one of her long, beaded braids, he tugged it and started speaking in Zandali, “You don’t have to speak Orcish with me, pretty thing. I’d rather stick with Zandali and I would really like to know how you came across that raptor.” His native tongue felt so much more comfortable, however he inwardly sighed when she continued in Orcish. Though truth be told, he would have been surprised if she had known Zandali. The Darkspear were secretive and didn’t take to sharing their language very often.
Rohkan became absolutely flabbergasted to learn that Atal’ai, he had inwardly cringed at that name knowing she didn’t know the true meaning, but understanding her interpretation of it, was in fact one of Swiftclaw’s brood. The claw in her hair clenched it. At that point, he couldn’t figure out what shocked him more, that she wore the claw exactly as a proud troll hunter would, that the hatchling had survived, or that she had bonded to him so easily. He couldn’t believe it when the raptor had ignored his commands and had instead refused to leave his mistress. Rohkan knew Atal’ai had known the commands, he had answered his initial call, but he would not obey the command to leave with him. He had never seen a raptor who had been taught the demanding commands refuse them before. The sounds were etched so well and deep as hatchlings they almost couldn’t help but respond. But this raptor adamantly refused to leave the elf. His fascination with this elf just seemed to keep growing. But when she learned his name his mouth about hit the floor.
His father. His father, his mind reeled. It wasn’t that surprising that she had heard of him, he was rather famous in Dragonblight, but she had actually known him. And to top it all off, his father had actually mentioned her to him on one of the few times he had come home to visit. He had told him of a timid yet brave Night Elf that had camped with him for nearly a week. She had learned many hunting techniques from him and they both had found a new respect for each other’s faction. Now to see her embracing the Horde because of his father, it left him speechless. He made up his mind that he was going to get to know this Aeia.
Walking away he waited for her to return indoors before shifting back to his tiger form. Climbing back into the nearby tree, that just happened to have a great view into her shop, he settled himself in to watch.
Aeia had immediately begun to work on the orc’s request. She had pulled down several leathers and other items and had let her crafting magic build in her long delicate fingers. Slowly, the leather began to twist and shape to the size and fit she wanted. She had been working for nearly an hour, the fruit of her labor being the base of the armor that would later be treated with scales and other things to enhance its effectiveness. Suddenly she got the distinct impression that she was being watched, but after a look around, she didn’t see anyone or anything amiss. Returning to her work, she continued to shape the leather how she saw fit. That feeling didn’t go away and only seemed to rise within her. Pausing in frustration, she made a few whistles and hand movements towards Atal’ai who had been gnawing on an old bone at her feet. Quickly, the raptor had stood up and raced out the door. Following, Aeia found him under the tree from before looking up at the lowest branch and chittering.
Closing her eyes, she allowed her track animal ability to overwhelm her senses. Upon reopening her eyes, she could make out the faint form of the troll tiger lounging on the branch, she could almost see right through him as he remained cloaked in shadows. “I know you’re there and I know you’ve been watching me. You might as well come in where it’s cool and have a drink with me. I promise I won’t bite, but I can’t say much for Atal’ai if you keep irritating his master,” she said with friendly smirk. Grumbling to himself at being caught, Rohkan rose and stretched his lithe cat form. With a hard shake, he dropped his stealth and jumped from the branch, landing gracefully right in front of a surprised Aeia. Growing to his full height, he followed her into the shop.
Sunset colored eyes drifted to the swell of her nicely round ass as he followed her to the back of her shop. He just couldn’t seem to help it. The swing of her hips momentarily mesmerizing him. ‘Damn it’s been far too long since I’ve had a woman,’ he thought to himself, shaking his head to clear his dirty thoughts he refocused his eyes on the room around him. The back of the shop seemed to be a small kitchen with two large pantry doors to the left, an old wood burning stove, oven, and sink along the back wall with shelves and cupboards, and the raptor’s nest in the right corner. In the center was a small table and 4 chairs, which she waved her hand at for him to take a seat.
Lowering himself into the closest chair, Rohkan began to speak, slipping back into Zandali accidentally, “I’m sorry I was watching you. You’re just so different from any other Night Elf I’ve ever met or heard about.” Seeing her confused yet interested look he realized his mistake and switched to Orcish, “Sorreh bout dat. Ya trollish appearance has meh slippin’ inta Zandali. I be preferring dat language ovah Orcish. If it be easiah on ya, I can speak Common as well. Fact I’d almos’ ratha that ta da gritty Orcish.” Seeing her nod happily, he switched to Common, “Wha’ I was sayin’ was dat I was sorreh fo’ watchin’ ya. Ya jus’ be so different.” He was worried she might take offense but that thought was put at ease with her smile. “I get that a lot. My own people don’t really know what to do with me. I don’t see the need to keep fighting the Horde. At least not in all-out war anymore. Sure, I don’t agree with what the orcs are doing in Ashenvale, but if we could just put aside our differences for one damn minute and actually talk to one another, we might be able to come up with some sort of agreement and end all this useless fighting. And frankly I’m rather happy Vol’jin is the new Warchief. As much as I respect Thrall, he was a fool for putting Garrosh in charge. No offense, but glad he’s dead. With Vol’jin at the helm, maybe we can try for peace again like Jaina had attempted with Thrall,” she had worked herself up. Politics and this endless fighting always seemed to make her blood run hot. “Sorry, didn’t mean to kind of unload there. I just can’t help it sometimes. The useless slaughter of so many people just rubs me raw.” Rohkan just chuckled, “Da Horde be glad ta be rid o’ Garrosh as well, so dun worreh ‘bout offendin’ meh. Ya be well informed on da workin’s o’ da Horde doe.” “I keep my ear to the ground. I like knowing what’s going on in the world,” she replied simply. “An’ dat doesn’ explain ya trollish look,” he continued. Smiling, she poured them both a cup of cooled Junglevine wine as she sat down to explain, “I just find your culture fascinating. You all seem so full of life and carefree. All the Horde’s races just seem so different to those in the Alliance, but trolls especially draw me in. Your father originally started my obsession with trolls, but the more I learned about your race, the more I wanted to know. Your history, your culture, the language, it all called to me on some deeper level and never really let me go.” Her voice started to turn playful as she continued, “Even with how you males moved, so laid back, yet thick with sinewy muscle, and your accent is just so exotic, but your language. Now I could sit and listen to that all day.” She sipped at her wine, hiding the smirk behind her cup. She couldn’t wait to see how he handled that little bit of extra information. She knew she was probably pushing her luck, but why not take a chance instead of possibly missing this opportunity. Most trolls found her odd with her eccentrics and just bought her wares and left. Only a few had chatted with her, and none for this long. And definitely none as attractive as Rohkan.
Silver eyes fully took in his appearance. He was average height and build for a male troll and his skin was colored a pale sky blue and stretched tight over long muscles. Bright forest green hair sprang up in all directions atop his head. It was short and very messy but in that ‘just got out of bed’ sexy way. Studs dotted his long ears and a few small feathers hung from one tip. His eyes were the color of the setting sun, oranges mixed with yellow and flecked with red. They were some of the most beautiful eyes she had ever seen and quickly looked away to avoid falling into their depths. Her eyes strayed to his long sharp nose that was painted dark green with a matching streak across each cheek. Foot and a half long tusks jutted from the corners of his mouth and swept down sharply, widening as they reached the sharp tips that pointed up to the sky. They were amazing and deadly and she couldn’t stop staring at them. Without her noticing, she had reached a hand out and slid her finger along the cool bone near the tip. They were polished smooth and she couldn’t believe how sharp the end was when she carefully ran a fingertip across it. When he shook his head, knocking her hand gently away with his tusk, she snatched her hand back. She hadn’t meant to reach out, but they had just looked so beautiful.
His eyes had watched her take him in and he was breathless. Her eyes had traveled over him in both awe and almost hunger. He licked his lips and decided to return the favor, letting himself learn her features. Skin the palest of lavender that it was almost pink graced her lithe body. Thick teal hair ran along the top of her head and ended at her waist, while many, many tiny braids ran along the sides of her head. They were beaded and strewn with all kinds of small trinkets like fangs, feathers, and jewelry. Long pale ears held several silver studs and the fang he had noticed earlier. He realized it was a raptor tooth, probably one Atal’ai had lost as a youngling. Her eyes glowed with molten silver and there were two pale blue tattoos in the shape of leaves across her eyes. Her pale pink lips were plump and were smiling at him. Suddenly he felt her fingers trail along his tusk and he was momentarily taken aback. Not many people were willing to touch his dangerous tusks, let alone a stranger. Not to mention it was rather intimate. Gently, he knocked his tusk against her hand when he realized she had zoned out.
Chuckling as he saw the lights turn back on in her eyes and she started to stutter an apology. Holding up his hand he interrupted, “It be ok mon. Ya just surprised meh, not every day a sexy Night Elf be feelin’ up meh tusks.” Red flared across her cheeks as embarrassment flushed through her. Embarrassment and a slight bit of arousal. Not being one to back down, she countered him, “Is it true what they say? That the bigger his tusks the bigger he is?” It was Rohkan’s turn to blush. He liked this Elfie. She was playful and beautiful. He certainly couldn’t wait to get to know her better in all ways. Wiggling his eyebrows, he answered in a low voice, “Dere be only one way fo’ ya ta find out dat ansah. N’ I dun tink’ ya be wantin’ dat.” He downed the rest of his wine. He knew he was playing with fire, but he quite frankly didn’t care. And if she was willing to play this dangerous game, he certainly wasn’t going to stop her.
Getting up gracefully she returned with the pitcher of wine and refilled both their cups. She leaned against the table next to the troll, looking at him through hooded eyes, “And what makes you think I wouldn’t want that?” Her hand slid up his tusk and her fingertips ghosted over his bottom lip. Without thinking, Rohkan’s tongue slid out and licked her fingers. She gasped and brought her hand up to her chest as though it had stung. She couldn’t believe she was being this forward with a troll. But his interest in her had all her sensibilities and better judgement disappearing out the door along with all her inhibitions as she licked at the fingertips that he’d just tasted. His eyes widened as he watched her, his own disbelief in the matter vanishing with his sensibilities.
Suddenly his arm shot out and wrapped around her thin waist, pulling her into his lap. Thick blue lips crushed to pale pink as he kissed her. His long tongue sliding back and forth across her lower lip, begging for entrance. When the shock of her new position faded, she moaned against him, her lips parting to allow his tongue admittance. Rohkan was careful to keep his tusks from gouging her, thankfully they were just wide enough that he could slip them on either side of her body, just under her arms as he kissed her. And damn did she taste good. Hints of the Junglevine wine were still prevalent on her tongue, but he could also taste her. She tasted of hot cinnamon tinged with wild berries. The taste was incredible on his hot tongue and he released his own moan when he felt her hand bury itself in his hair, pulling him harder against herself.
Mind racing, she hadn’t even realized her hands had moved on their own accord. One tangling in his soft yet coarse hair and the other was gripping his upper arm for support. Muscles moved like liquid steel under his taunt skin as he tightened his arm around her waist, his three-fingered hand splayed against her back. His fingers itched to feel her skin, and so he slowly edged his other hand just under the bottom hem of her chest piece. Her skin was smooth as silk and warm like the afternoon sun on a spring day, tight muscles rippled under her skin as she tensed and arched into his touch. Aeia was surprised when she felt his hand against her bare skin at her midriff, but had leaned into his heated touch. Blunt but thick nails dragged lazily up and down her side, not touching anywhere too intimate just yet.
Everywhere he touched, her skin was on fire. When she felt his hand slide up higher along her ribcage, she sucked in a breath. But when his thumb brushed along the underside of her breast over her breast band with a feather light touch, she bit his lower lip. This only seemed to spur him on as he growled against her lips, his hand fully cupping her breast above her breast band. Her head fell back from his lips as a soft moan escaped her throat. Eyes squeezed shut and body arching sharply into his touch, she felt him close his mouth over the juncture of her shoulders and throat. His teeth pricked at her skin and his warm tongue licked a line from the base of her throat up to the bottom of her ear. Ever mindful of his tusks, he slid them over her shoulder as he nibbled along the base of her ear, then licked his way to the tip. His reward was loud moan and a rock of hips against him.
The sounds coming from her lips were like music to his ears. And he wanted to see what other noises he could bring forth, but he never got the chance. Just as he was about to slide his hand under that cursed breast band, Atal’ai let out a loud screech that had them both freezing. Immediately, Aeia had herself untangled from him and was heading to the front door, shifting her clothing back in place as she went. “Customers,” she called over her shoulder to the frozen and silent troll. Relaxing his shoulders, he slumped back into the chair. ‘Dammit all,’ he thought as he shifted, his pants having become entirely too tight. Growling, to himself, he downed another cup of wine trying to cool the heated blood coursing through his body.
Aeia gulped down air to calm her own trembling body. She was incredibly turned on and if Atal’ai hadn’t interrupted she was sure she would have led the troll upstairs at any moment. Licking her swollen, tingling lips, his taste still lingering, she went to greet her potential customers. This time it was a human and a fellow Night Elf that entered her shop.
In Common, Aeia welcomed the pair to her shop asking what she could do for them. The human brought out a chest piece from under his arm and showed it to Aeia. He needed repairs done asap so he and his companion could be on the next boat out. They had come down from Ashenvale and had gotten into a few skirmishes with the Horde along the way here. The chest piece didn’t seem to have too much damage at first glance, but when she took it from the human she saw a pretty significant gash to the leather starting at the right shoulder and traveling down across his chest. If the leather hadn’t been thick and well treated, the man would probably have lost his life. However, it didn’t seem as though the blade had actually cut all the way through, just a few places here and there where the attacker would have pressed harder on the blade. Glancing up at the human from the armor piece, she said, “You’re very lucky. That was a serious blow you took. Are you alright?” Grinning, the man replied, “I’m fine, but you should see the other guy.” Winking he elbowed his friend in the side. The Night Elf just smiled back at the two of them. That was when the Night Elf really took in her appearance. “What’s a beautiful elf like you doing looking like one of those disgusting trolls?”
Aeia’s eyes darkened a bit with anger, “I happen to like the way I look thank you very much. And I don’t find trolls disgusting in the least.” Looking past her, the Night Elf spotted the troll sitting at the back of her shop. Rohkan had been listening in, but didn’t show any signs that he understood as he pet and scratched Atal’ai’s warm scales. Hissing the Night Elf spat on the ground at Aeia’s feet, “Are you fucking that thing? That Troll? Filthy troll whore,” he said with venom. “Whore and a traitor. You’re unfit to even call yourself a Night Elf. I hope Elune has turned her back on you.” The human had backed away looking like he was at a loss for words. Aeia and the other Night Elf stood staring at each other in the doorway to her shop. “He’s not a thing. He’s a person, and he has shown me more kindness that you have, and you’re of my kin,” she ground out. Tears were shimmering in her eyes even as anger bloomed through her. She had been called many things, and didn’t care about the whore comment. She would have willingly slept with Rohkan and wouldn’t have felt bad about it or felt like she was a traitor. Lines were blurred in her eyes. They were all Azerothian. But the comment about Elune stung. She loved her people, and it was one of the gravest insults to hope that Elune no longer held you. She was also rather pissed about the troll comment. Just once, she wished people of all races could just that, they were all people. Not animals, not scum, not enemies. They were all the same, living breathing people who deserved to be treated as such. Squaring her shoulders, her back going stiff, she swung an arm back to punch him. Before she could finish the swing, a large three-fingered hand had captured hers.
“Dis troll,” he ground the word out at the other Night Elf, “be tinkin’ dat be enough, Aeia. He not be worth ya time, nor upsettin’ da bruisers ‘round ‘ere.” The Night Elf was stunned into silence to realize the troll could speak common. Switching from Common to Orcish Rohkan added, “I can be followin’ ‘im when he leaves n’ make sure no mo’ nasty words ever leave ‘is lips again.” He grinned at her as he released her hand. She couldn’t help but giggle wickedly up at the troll and answered in Orcish, “As amazing as that sounds, I don’t want you in trouble with the bruisers either.” “Dun worry bout dat girly, if it be wha’ ya wan’, I be glad ta be doin’ it,” he winked at her. Aeia just shook her head and waved him off with her hand. Looking back to the silent Night Elf, she inhaled deeply and glared at him switching back to Common. “As for you, I want you out of my shop. Your friend there is still welcome,” she gestured towards the still silent and slightly scared human, “but I never ever want to see your face here again. If I do, I just might have to let this thing,” she flicked her thumb towards Rohkan, “off his leash and do as he pleases to you. And I’ll watch.” She almost lost her composure when Rohkan stood to his full height and bared his teeth to the Night Elf with narrowed orange eyes glaring. The Night Elf looked as though he was going to piss himself and Aeia had to bite her lip not to laugh. Clenching his jaw, the Night Elf spun on his heel and left the shop and the human staring open jawed at the whole scene.
Relaxing her tense shoulders, she turned to the human, “Would you still like me to fix that for you?” The human clicked his jaw shut, “Yes please. And I apologize for my friend, he can be a pompous dick. Your personal business is your business, sugar.” His voice wavered a little, “Do you really have him on a leash?” Both troll and Night Elf just stared at the human then burst into laughter. Resting his hand on Aeia’s shoulder, Rohkan answered when he could finally breath again, “Nah mon, I jus’ be a traveler dat wondered inta her shop. But dat Night Elf gonna tink twice bout botherin’ da Elfie ‘ere.” Rohkan patted Aeia’s head. Placing her hands on her hips, she glared up at Rohkan and in Orcish said, “Just a wondering traveler huh? Then what was that back in the kitchen?” Grinning wickedly, Rohkan answered, “Dat be jus’ fo’ us. Not dis human ‘ere to run ‘is tongue ‘bout latah. An’ I plan ta finish what we started,” he winked. Blushing, Aeia quickly spun back to the human and switching back to Common once again said, “I can have your armor fixed in one hour. The price is one gold and twenty-five silvers. If that price is fine I’ll see you in an hour.” The human nodded and cautiously held his hand out to the girl, his eyes dating now and then to the troll, “Deal.” Aeia returned the shake, “See you in an hour then.” And with that, the human left the shop.
She could feel Rohkan watching her as she took the armor to her work space at the right of the shop. Her large table covered in tools and leather scraps and she perched on the stool before it, armor in hand. Fully relaxing as she started to work on the armor piece she began to talk, “You didn’t have to step in like that. But I thank you for it. I would really hate to lose the home I’ve built here because of one narrow minded Night Elf. Thought part of me wishes you would have let me punch him." Chuckling, Rohkan pulled a spare stool around to the side of the table and sat facing her, his hip and elbow leaning on the table. “An as much as I woulda liked ta have seen dat, I dun much fancy seein’ dat pretty face o’ yours getting’ beat by da bruisers. ‘Sides, my offa still stands if ya wan’ ‘im ta disappear. He not exactly kind ta meh eithah.” Frowning she replied, “I’m sorry about that. People, especially my people, can be so close minded about things. They just don’t seem to understand that the Horde are people as well. It just makes me so angry to hear people say things like that. Especially since I used to think like that as well. It almost pains me to know that I was once so narrow minded.” She grit her teeth, grinding them almost loud enough for Rohkan to hear over her work. Reaching out he slid a finger along her jaw line and she visibly relaxed. “But ya changed and dat is in da past. Wha’ mattahs now is dat ya dun tink dat way no mo’ and dat ya be ‘ere talkin’ ta dis ol’ troll like he be anyone else. Be nice if mo’ people be like ya, on both sides.” Aeia had leaned into his touch before he let his hand drop away. “What about you? You don’t seem too bothered with me being a Night Elf?” she asked. Snickering, he tugged at one of her braids, “Ya not exactly a Night Elf, but I see ya point. I guess I jus’ be odd like you.” He grinned at her small huff of indignation.
From there, they both fell into a companionable silence while she worked her magic on the leather chest piece. Aeia had started to hum the song the elder had taught her, and Rohkan found himself leaning heavily on the table, his chin resting in his hand with his eyes closed listening to her. When she started to sing the words, his eyes cracked open in awe. Her voice was like crystal bells tinkling in a summer breeze. And that she sung in Zandali only made it that much sweeter. Her accent was flawless as she sung through the verses. It reminded him of being a child back in Sen’jin village. His mother used to sing that song to him when he was sick or scared. Awe and something more filled his eyes as he watched the beauty before him work and sing.
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