A:N- I fell in love with them both after I finished the quest chain at Dragonmaw port. I just got this really good vibe for them both. Also, based sort of on the 'Bringing down the mountain' quest chain.

Blizzard owns Warcraft. I own nothing!

~8~8~

She was strong. That was the first thing that sprang into Garrosh's mind as he watched the new Dragonmaw leader, Zaela, walk towards him. Beautiful was the second, as the sun shimmered upon her ashen gray skin, glinting with the sweat of battle and blood. One expertly cared for pauldron sat on her left shoulder, Garrosh could see marks and bruises where another had rested but had probably been shattered or damaged in battle. Dark red hair, once bound behind the orcess, but now free, fell around her face extenuating her small ivory tusks, and soft brown eyes; the only part of her Garrosh guessed was soft. She knelt before him in posterity, her voice commanding but reverent in its own husky growl.

"Warchief, Garrosh. Your people have aided mine in overthrowing our tyrannical ruler. For that we willingly ally ourselves with our kin. For the Horde!"

Zaela's eyes, sparkling with dying battle lust, made Garrosh's knees weak, he found his tongue thick as if coated with molasses and refusing to work properly on its own volition. He extended his hand to help her rise, using all his will to keep it from trembling, his voice gruff, to hide his nervousness. "Welcome to the Horde, Warchief Zaela. Lok'Tar Ogar!"

The survivors of the rebellion cheered fervently relishing in the victory over the dread fel orcs who had once ruled them with an unyielding, cruel, iron fist before the real work had to get under way. No amount of celebration could over shadow the fact they were surrounded by enemies with a venerable village and wounded warriors. As the old Dragonmaw saying went, they were a drake with a broken wing.

As the crowds began to disperse, both leaders strode, side by side, into the battle scarred clan hall silently. The hall still showed signs of battle, by the splats of blood on the walls and the rank smell of fel orc still wafting through the air. The body of the former Warchief had been cleared away and dumped in the sea, leaving only a large splotch of black blood that told a body had once lain there. Zaela went around, fetching a few non damaged sitting furs twisting her way through discarded or lost weapons that had been scattered on the floor.

No matter how hard he tried, Garrosh could not draw his gaze away from her swaying hips. They mesmerized him, his brown eyes following every move they made. Scolding himself almost instantly after coming back to his senses he shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was not naïve to what this was, he was attracted to her. Of course he had had his share of lovers, spying them across a room, making his heart leap and his thoughts dance around things they might do later. It was nothing like this, though, it was more than lust, something far more, something different. He didn't know where to embrace it or fight it.

Zaela dusted the furs off slightly, placing them in the center of the room as was custom, and Garrosh put those thoughts away momentarily, business before pleasure of course. Her fur, Garrosh noticed, she placed directly over the large blood spot of the former Warcheif, and couldn't contain a grin; she was the type who liked to rub her conquest in. Once they had seated, Garrosh felt the nervousness he had when first meeting Zaela come surging back. It was infuriating how she could make him loose his head with out even trying.

Zaela began speaking about her people's history and how they would aid their new allies. She spoke of the glorious Dragonmaw drake riders, perilous and ferocious, their ongoing battle with the accursed Wildhammer, and how they ransacked the dwarven towns that pocketed the Highlands. Each time she told of a great Dragonmaw victory or what they could do to aid the Horde, it seemed to Garrosh she welled with pride just a little more. Though wanting to hear more, or perhaps simply desiring to listen to her speak in that alluring gravelly voice she possessed, Garrosh put up a hand, stopping her suddenly. "These are great deeds you speak about your people, but I want to know something else, something of great importance."

Zaela flashed him a crooked grin that set Garrosh's heart to racing, sweat began to prick the back of his neck, and he hoped he didn't appear as awkward as he felt.

"Ask away, Warcheif, the Dragonmaw have nothing to hide."

"I want to know of Warcheif Zaela." He stated firmly to mask the quiver in his voice, forcing his nerves to steady.

It was obvious his question had surprised her, a look of worry momentarily over shadowed her features before hiding it behind a wall of neutrality. Zaela sighed in resignation, nodded more to herself than to Garrosh before she spoke. "I will always be honest with you, Warcheif Garrosh, as I hope you shall always be honest with me. Both my parents where Drake riders, we lived a modest life, and did nothing very special. I joined the warrior ranks to support my parents when they became ill, they soon died after. In truth I have done nothing very note worthy. I wield no legendary weapon, and my armor is basic guards wear. Until the rebellion, I was no one very known."

The silence that came after the confession was almost palpable. Here was, for lack of a better word, a Nobody taking up the mantle of leadership for the Dragonmaw. She wouldn't be prepared for the challenges to come, but, Garrosh thought ironically, neither had he been much prepared for leading the Horde. Yet he prevailed, what did that say about her?

"Is all well, Warchief Garrosh?" Zaela asked finally unable to tolerate the silence any longer.

"Uh… yes, very well, Warchief Zaela. Why do you ask?" Garrosh prayed fervently to the spirits his voice didn't sound as squeaky as he thought it did.

"You appear displeased with my answer. While I would not usually care, it is perhaps a bad first impression." She replied. "I will not deny I am extremely new to leading, your input and wisdom would be much welcome as much as I am loath to ask your aid."

Garrosh smiled feeling oddly comfortable around this woman he had just met. She was proud, but not to proud to ask for aid when the good of her people depended on her. A good quality in a leader.

"I am still getting used to leading myself, wisdom is something that appears to constantly elude me." He admitted with a shrug and couldn't help thinking of when he had attacked the Alliance ships on the way to the Highlands. His foolish choice could have killed him and left his people in turmoil, making them easy pickings to their enemies. It was the first time he had admitted his vulnerability to anyone. He had not even shared his concerns with Thrall convincing himself it would make him look weak in the eyes of one so strong. Had this strange woman put an enchantment on him, to plumb his deepest worries and secrets? After a moment he abandoned the thought, he would have sensed an enchantment or any source of magic. So what was it about this woman that made him relaxed an open?

"Then you are displeased with me?" Zaela asked.

She didn't sound sad, or dismayed, Garrosh bet she never sounded, or felt like that. No, it was rather like a cold statement not liking it, but accepting. She had known this might be a possible reaction to her confession and was prepared to face any challenge should it present itself. It was another quality that was making Garrosh respect the battle hardened orcess more and more. Her warm brown eyes searched his fearlessly for the answer, caused his insides to bloom with a fire he had never felt so intense. Did she think, he thought her weak, or stupid? Garrosh shook his head rapidly feeling guilty but not knowing why.

"No, Zaela…" He paused totally taken of speech as he peered into her eyes.

He felt as if they were reading his soul, but couldn't turn away. It seemed as if his brain had cut off from his mouth. Just saying her name brought up such feelings! Perhaps he had been wrong about the enchantment.

"A tad disoriented." He finished the lame excuse with a cough.

'Stupid fool, get it together you have a war to lead, this is no time to loose your head over just another pretty face!' But 'pretty' he decided after a moment, was an understatement, there was something about her…just something so different.

With a warriors discipline he forced himself to abandon the topic, how could he get anything accomplished here if he was staring and stumbling every five minutes! He decided to stick to another discussion that would take his attention away from her…he hoped. Leaning forward his eyes sparkled with the far off promise of battle and blood. "Tell me all you know of the Wildhammer."

Zaela caught on to the glint in his eyes, gaining one that mirrored his own. With a slight smile, she readily complied.