Author'sNote: First off, I wanted to say how grateful I am for what attention that first bit received. I honestly wasn't expecting much, if anything; and six reviews was six more than I thought it'd get. This story is very important to me, and though I'm unsure as to whether or not I will confess the origin of the story, I sure as hell will not let it end anytime soon. Secondly, I hope for the story to get better as the additions continue. We'll have to see, my weakness may be caring so much about Azeroth that I'm going to treat it as my own world, and make sure I do everything right. While I will of course do some things my own way, an example of which is actually in this part.
I hope you guys enjoy the next part. I'm sorry it took a while, I went through it in my head a few times to make sure it felt right to me before posting it, hehehe.
Grommash Hellscream placed his large gauntlet-clad hands on the able and leaned on it as he frowned. While there was no longer anger or frustration in his red-hinted eyes, there was exasperation, for before him was a sight he thought he'd never see. It was none other than a human pup, too little to be parentless, fearlessly (or foolishly) playing with Snowsong. The frost wolf merely laid still and allowed the pup to play in her fur, as the child seemed to be conscious of where not to be, and what not to do.
The orc got the feeling this was not the first time the pup had played with Snowsong.
Grom let out a growling sigh as he turned his head to half-heartedly glare at his war chief. The young shaman was watching the human he'd...adopted play with his wolf, but the way he squirmed betrayed his awareness of the elder warrior's gaze.
"Thrall..." Hellscream ground out silently, "What...the...hell...?"
Thrall sighed and ran an armored hand over his face. "I could not leave her in the ruins of her own home, Grom! I will not apologize for rescuing her, if that's what you want."
Grom just barely stopped himself from snarling. "Of course I don't want a damn apology! You're the warchief, I had better not hear you apologize. What I want is to hear what the warchief has planned for his..."
Grom cringed in a loss for words before he finally sputtered out: "Adopted Doomhammer."
Thrall almost chuckled at the nickname, no doubt derived from the fact that the girl had cuddled the hammer as she'd watched the two orcs argue vehemently in Orcish but moments before. Then of course, she'd lost interest due to not currently understanding the language and began to play with Snowsong. In fact, the two continued to converse in Orcish; by Thrall's own request ("For the purposes of privacy and to acquaint her to the sound of it.").
The young chieftain drew a deep breath and let it out in a slow sigh before he finally met the Warsong's fiery eyes.
"First and foremost, I plan to keep her—partly because I've grown fond of her, mostly because she's grown attached to me and Snowsong."
Grom grunted as he pushed off the table and crossed his arms. "And whose fault is that, mmm?"
Thrall inclined in his in affirmation, but continued undaunted. "Secondly, I fully intend on acclimating her to our people."
Grom scowled, "So you are adopting her?"
The young orc nodded, and the elder one sighed again.
"Fine then, it is clear you've made your choice... So tell me, anything else you have in store for her?"
A sharp gleam lit in Thrall's blue eyes. "Before we set sail for Kalimdor, I am going to introduce her to my clan and make the adoption official. If my people accept her, then I hope to find a frost wolf who may accept her as Snowsong had me."
Grom let his arms fall to his sides as he glared steely at the young chieftain. "I didn't know the son of Durotan was a reckless gambler... You court so many dangers at once, Thrall. Are you certain this is wise? The pup is young, little brother; if we send her back to her people now, in a few months' time she may not even remember us."
Thrall sighed through his nose as his gaze fell. He could not deny the logic of Hellscream's argument—hell, the fact that Grommash Hellscream was asking him if "this is wise" was undoubtedly a glaring warning. Though the fearsome Warsong chief was not nearly as brash as he had been twenty years ago, he was still of fiery mind and heart. If he questioned the wisdom of his warchief's choices, perhaps there was credence to his words...
But then a soft bark sounded, followed by a noise Thrall had not heard in years: the laughter of a young girl. He looked over to see Snowsong affectionately nuzzling the little girl's brown hair with her comparatively large nose, sniffing as she did so and perhaps tickling the pup. Said little girl merely giggled and hunched her shoulders, half-heartedly trying to push the large wolf's head away. The sight was alien to Thrall, but at the same time, it was exceptionally welcome.
The Warchief returned his gaze to the eyes of his comrade and spoke without a shred of doubt.
"Whether or not this is wise no longer matters, Grom. It is far too late for me to change my decision now, not when both I and Snowsong have already grown so fond of her. We will take her to my clan, initiate her, and by then the Horde should be fully amassed and we'll be on our way out to sea."
Grommash held Thrall's gaze for a long while, scrutinizing every flicker of emotion within the sharp blue eyes—a color that to orcs, denoted a great destiny...a color the girl herself shared. Though being human, it was unlikely the dramatic accompanying the eye color counted for her. Unlikely...not impossible... Finally, the warrior sigh and broke his staring match with the warchief.
"Very well, Thrall...I concede in this argument, if only out of respect for you. If the weapon and the wolf of the Warchief of the Horde accept the pup, then it is only proper that so should his men."
Thrall smiled, then stepped closer to the Warsong and clapped a hand on his shoulder, a resounding clank echoing as armor struck armor.
"It means a great deal to me to hear that, Grom. I swear, as a proper parent I will take full responsibility with the girl."
Suddenly, an ornery gleam shone in Grom's eyes as he smirked at Thrall. "That reminds me...do you even know how to raise a pup?"
As the young orc's eyes widened in horror, Hellscream bellowed in laughter. "Never fear, Thrall, never fear! You have the mighty Hellscream on your side, and believe it or not, I have some measure of experience in this!" The mirth faded as Grom frowned. "Though I'll admit, raising a human pup will be much different than raising an orc one."
Thrall mustered up a half-smile. "Then it is fortunate I have experience with human training, mmm? It seems we shall have to work together to ensure the girl is properly reared with a healthy balance of Human and Orcish."
Grom let out another hearty chuckle. "Two orcs raising a human pup...Azeroth just got a little bit stranger!"
Thrall glanced over at the little girl, who was now dozing off against Snowsong's fluffy chest, and smiled. "Indeed it has..."
A silence comfortably reigned for a few moments until it was broken by Hellscream.
"Erm...Thrall?"
"Yes?"
"What's the pup's name?"
"...damn it..."
With a drawn-out sigh, Thrall lumbered around the table to Snowsong whilst ignoring Grom's smothered chuckles. The frost wolf was still, gently hugging the little girl with her muzzle, her eyes closed. As her companion approached, Snowsong didn't move but did open her eyes to regard the orc. Thrall knelt as quietly as he could and, bowing his head just the slightest, reached out for the child. Snowsong hesitated for only a moment before she pulled her head back, gently nudging the top of the girl's head. Just as she began to stir, the young orc had already pried her from his wolf's fur and held her in his arms.
"Wake up, little one," Thrall whispered, speaking in Common now. "You nodded off while you were playing with Snowsong."
The girl sniffled and yawned, then rubbed her eyes before she looked up at Thrall. "I'm sorry...I didn't know what you were saying, and you guys were being boring."
Grom chuckled from where he stood, and Thrall couldn't help but grin. "Aye, we were being rather boring. But while we were talking, I realized I'd made a mistake."
For a moment, a flicker of fear seemed to appear in her eyes. The girl discreetly gripped the armor on his arms, but it didn't go unnoticed. The warchief held her closer and let his smile grow.
"No need to worry, little one. I simply remembered that I had forgotten to ask you what your name was. What is your name, little one?"
Instantly the girl seemed relieved, and sat up in his arms before she made an adorable attempt at ferocity. She screwed up her face in a "fearsome" glare and puffed out her chest.
"My name is Nichole! It means victory!"
Hellscream nearly immediately burst out in boisterous laughter. "Victory! Her name is victory! How perfect, haha!"
Though Nichole initially wilted at the sudden loudness of the warrior, to her credit swiftly recovered and rebuilt her fierce façade. As Grom approached—and to his own credit, not too quickly—he saluted the girl with a wide grin. "It is an honor to make your acquaintance, little lok'tar. I am Grommash Hellscream of the Warsong Clan, and I have agreed to help this young fool here raise you as a member of our Horde."
Nichole stared wide-eyed at Grom for a few beats before she leaned towards Thrall, who leaned closer in return. "Papa, why is Grom not wearing a shirt?"
The suddenness and innocence of the question stunned the Orcish duo at first. Grom recovered first as he laughed once more, while Thrall merely smiled and chuckled.
"Because, little one, his might in battle works best if he can move freely. Besides, Grom may be not truly be Blademaster, but he's as hard to hit as one."
Nichole now frowned at Thrall and tilted her head. "What's a Blademaster? Is it like a knight? Can I be one?" Suddenly, the little girl lit up with excitement and raised her fists in the air. "Can I have a BIIIIG sword?!"
While Thrall gaped in surprise, Grom merely gave a wicked smile. "By the elements, I think I like her..."
Ta-da!
The bits where I took a little freedom regarded the details of their Exodus and the oft debated topic of Grom's class, and the whole "Is he a Blademaster?" debacle. I personally don't think he is officially a Blademaster, if only because he wields an axe and not a sword—something every BM I'm aware of uses (it's in the name to Neltharion's sake). He does wear a banner though, so that's why I had Thrall say "not truly". He could possibly use some aspects of the techniques, since the only time he's ever been called a BM to my knowledge was in Warcraft III.
As for the Exodus, in the game it seemed they were all gathered and set sail way too quickly; Thrall wanted his troops to have "food and proper lodging when they arrive", so I highly doubt he'd had a temporary settlement built unless it was going to be used for at least a few days. If Starcraft could have books expand on the game's story-arc, I don't see why I can't give myself a little breathing room here, hehehe.
