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Culture Clash	By : Makkoska Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 7770 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Quite unfortunately, I do not own Wow, I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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A/N: I thought some explanation might be in order about the setting of this story. Zangah and Ardel met a few years after the blood elves joined the Horde, but still before Cataclysm. Let’s say this is at the time when the Lich King still reigned, although that doesn’t matter much as I don’t plan to let them visit Northrend. Zangah doesn’t like the cold.
A/N #2: I’d like to thank everyone who took the time to read and review this fic so far. Your comments are greatly appreciated.

4.
‘Come again, why are we not riding?’
‘Told ya already elf, Tizza is too old to carry both of us. This way he stays rested. Can come handy if we need an escape.’
‘I still don’t see why can’t I ride it,’ he grumbled beneath his breath, but she heard him and sneered at him over her shoulder.
‘Don’t be lazy love, we’re finally climbing downwards.’
‘It’s not a question of laziness,’ he stated, ignoring her calling him ‘love’ – it was an improvement to ‘elf’ anyway ‘but my boots keep slipping on this mud. I don’t get how it can rain so much here when on the other side of the mountain is a desert.’
‘Well if it’s slippery, why don’t ya take your boots off?’
He couldn’t hide his horrified expression before he realized she was just teasing. ‘Oh ha,ha…’
He opted against making a rude gesture at her as she had a laugh on his expense only because she had her back turned to him again. And because he needed his hands for hanging onto rocks and trees to avoid landing on his arse. The troll however seemed absolutely sure-footed, just taking a little less long steps than usual as they climbed down the slope.
‘Cheer up now, I just know da perfect place for rest not far away from here,’ she pointed somewhere below them, but Ardel could only see the fog pooling a bit more thickly there, nothing else.
He thought it bit early for the rest as they were far from the night still, but didn’t complain. He was more tired since they started their descend to Un’Goro then he was ever before in Silithus.
As they got closer to the place Zangah showed the reason for the thicker than usual mist become visible; it was due to the vapors of an obviously warm watered pod protected by stone delve. It wasn’t a dry place (too much to hope for), but to have the chance to wash away the layers of dirt from his body and armor was elevating. He didn’t consider himself squeamish, but the sand of Silithus combined with the mud of Un’Goro was just a bit too much.
‘What do you think,’ Ardel asked after they settled down ‘is it safe here?’
‘Pretty safe,’ the troll answered, stretching out her long limbs ‘da animals of Un’Goro don’t really come here as the water is not nice to drink.’
‘And what about humanoids?’
‘Nah,’ she shrugged ‘no one lives here. There’s nothing to be afraid of.’
‘I can’t comprehend how you survived years in the wild with such nonchalance.’
‘Ah come on elf, relax and enjoy,’ she grinned tauntingly as she started to unbuckle her chest armor.
‘This is a bad idea,’ he thought, turning his gaze firmly away, but the promise of the warm water was just too hard to resist. Quickly and efficiently he removed his plate armor until he was dressed down to his undershirt and pants. He couldn’t help but wonder if the troll was looking.
Without glancing at his companion he walked into the water and submerged, unable to suppress a groan. By the Sunwell, but this felt amazing, almost as good as the baths at Silvermoon City. He only looked up when he heard a splash. Zangah was sitting on a rock in nothing but her shirt and loincloths, showing her long, blue legs. Ardel’s glance lingered on her thighs, which were at least twice as thick as an average elven woman’s. He knew well that some races preferred their females curvy, but the perfect Sin’Dorei woman was considered to be lithe and delicate (and definitely not blue), so he had absolutely no reason to find the site of the troll’s un-elfish limbs interesting.
She slid in and sighed. ‘Ain’t it the perfect place?’ she gestured proudly around, like she just conjured the pond. Ardel agreed – to his tired body it was pure bliss. They both gave over to the pleasure of floating in the warm water, occasionally scratching their bodies clean of especially clingy and itchy patches of dirt. Ardel found himself wishing that he could be nude – wouldn’t that be sinfully joyous? –but banished the thought. The situation was inappropriate enough as it were.
He imagined telling her mother this part of his adventure when he got to visit. ‘So I was there, swimming around in nothing but my underwear with a troll, and thinking about flashing my bits to her.’ She would faint. Or more likely shout and curse. He chuckled darkly. His mother’s curses were something to behold.
‘What’s so funny, love?’ he heard the low whisper from very close. Surprised he splashed to get his footing back and got a mouthful of water. Zangah was just arm length away with a very intense look on her face. The fleeting thought crossed his mind that he didn’t find her so alien and savage looking any more.
She was closing the distance as she raised her hand to smooth away a wet fringe from Ardel’s forehead. With her pupils dilated and lips party opened she actually seemed seductive, and the Blood Knight was too mesmerized by this sudden change to remember to pull back from her.
Her gaze passionate, she tipped her head down and kissed him. Her lips were surprisingly soft. Ardel’s hand rose on its own accord to caress the nape of her neck and pull her closer. His tongue pushed into her mouth and they both moaned. He could feel the roundness of her breasts through the soaked material of their shirts. Her leg slid between his, and he couldn’t resist grinding his awakening hardness against it. As the kissed deepened he felt her tusks press sharply against the sides of his mouth, which made him realize who - what- he was kissing.
He pushed at her shoulders gently, then harder as she didn’t let go. She staggered a half step back, but moved right away to close the distance again. He put his hand out to stop her.
Obviously frustrated she raked her hand through her damp, wild hair. ‘What’s yer problem, elf?’ she asked in a dangerous voice.
‘This is,’ he had to clear his throat to be able to continue. ‘this isn’t right.’ It wasn’t just not right, but positively wrong. He shouldn’t have let it happen, but she shouldn’t have initiated it either…
‘Ah, come on elf’, she exclaimed, splashing the water angrily. ‘Ain’t you had enough of this game yet?’
‘What game, troll,’ he shouted back, welcoming the anger, although it did nothing to lessen his arousal. ‘There is no game! There never was! I told you NO.’
‘Dat game!’ she growled, pointing her finger at him. ‘Ya look and ya want but ya do nothin’!
‘It’s not a game! And I don’t – well of course I don’t do anything! This is insane! Surely you must know that too.’
‘Why would it be?’ she asked frowning.
‘Oh for… because we are different,’ Ardel tried, but she seemed really not to understand. ‘Because I am an elf any you are… well you are a troll.’
‘I know dat,’ she said puzzled.
‘Just imagine what people would think!’
‘What people?’ she laughed bitterly, making a gesture around them. ‘Are you really doing dis ‘cause you’re afraid what others would think? What? An elf would pop outa nowhere point and say, ‘Hah, ya fucked a troll?’
Well, that was a cruel was to put it, but Ardel didn’t say anything as this was the gist of the issue. This sounded offending enough, so he didn’t add that if he would have ever known another elf who ever had a sex with some lower race, he would have felt nothing but contempt for them. Although he remained silent, the answer must have been obvious on his face.
‘Ya know what elf? Ya should learn not to give a shit what others thinking! I did years ago,’ she draw herself up to her full, imposing height, spun on her heel in the neck - deep water and marched out of the pool.
Ardel didn’t left the water for at least another hour, thinking and re-thinking what he should say to her, but didn’t coming up with anything that would make the situation less awkward. Under the stone delve the troll made a small fire. His skin feeling like sponge he wished he could join her. He sank lower until the dark water touched his nose. ‘Or I could just simply drown here,’ he mumbled into the waves.

Zangah didn’t raise her glance when the elf finally crawled from the pond. She felt deeply affronted; not only had he rejected her – something she wasn’t used to – but also insulted her. ‘Bloody, damned hypocrite,’ he mumbled in her own language.
The terrible thing was that although she didn’t get it first, she now knew exactly what he meant. Trolls, and the Darkspear wasn’t an exception of that, generally thought little of other races. Although their leader, Vol’Jin was quite open minded, in Sen’Jin village, where Zangah grew up, the majority thought things the old way – considering trolls superior to anyone else, and males superior to females.
Zangah had left home at an early age, after a serious argument with her uncle who raised her and her brother after their parents died. He seemed to think it natural that her niece should find a mate and bore children as soon as she reached maturity. Zangah wanted to travel to see the word and join fights to test and improve her skills. Their quarrel had been ugly and loud (the type that the village loved, as they had something to talk about for weeks). Next day Zangah waited on the road for the orcs who guarded the area. She had talked Raider Jhash into taking her to Razor Hill. She hadn’t say goodbye to her uncle. Although she felt bad to leaving her younger brother behind she had been very determined to find her own way of life.
She first moved to Orgrimmar where she was glad to find more liberally minded trolls and could mingle with other races. But city life wasn’t for her, so she set to adventuring instead. From time to time she visited her friends in Orgrimmar, and less often her family in Sen’Jin village. Those visits were always tense. Her brother grew to be a fine troll, and although the love remained between them, they often felt awkward in each other company. Her uncle was much worse – she knew his mind was sharp as a razor, but he liked to pretend he went senile whenever she was around. When his mood suited he simply didn’t recognize Zangah.
After a few days at home, she was always glad to be back alone in the wild. She haven’t minded being solitary, but she loved to meet other adventurers as well, most of them being similar minds. She expected Ardel to be like that as well. From his stories she knew that it was over a year since the elf left his kind. Although he always spoke about his friends and Silvermoon City fondly, he never sounded homesick. Zangah guessed that he, as most of the travelers she had met on abandoned roads or in the wild, was just too fond of freedom to mind other people’s options. Well, it looked like she was mistaken.
She cast an angry look at the elf in question, just to catch him turning his guiltily glance away quickly. Resisting the urge to throw something at him, she settled in for an uncomfortable night.
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Culture Clash