Nine years ago. Another story.
Shadows danced around the room as the single lit candle burned brightly on the nightstand. It was wedged between the bed and the same wall as the door, though it still provided just enough space for him to sit on his wooden stool and sulk between the bed and the wall without blocking the door. He sat hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees, pretending to inspect his fingernails.
Zulwatha sat on wicker chair in front of the dresser in the opposite corner of their bedroom. The thick linen curtain was heavy enough that stood still in all but the heaviest of breezes, and any light from the stars above was blocked out. Just that annoying little candle, the flame dancing on its wick irreverently. The air was still enough that he could hear every movement of her fingers as Zulwatha unbraided her hair. He was too shy to take a peek at the mirror on top of the dresser and check if she was looking at him or not. Most likely not.
There was no reason for it to be like this, he thought.
"Ya know, dis gig I be havin' up in da north of da Barrens, maybe sometimes in da south of da Ashenvale...this could turn out ta be a real good thing," he finally spoke up. "It be stable work, an' just like when I was in da Third War. Dey said I can come home an' visit everybody four times a year, too."
He stopped, not wanting to sound desparate or manic. Did he say too much? Did he speak too fast?
You said what you need to, he didn't think. That wasn't him thinking. The voice had started in Ashenvale during the Third War. He tried to ignore its presence.
Zulwatha ignored him entirely as she finished unbraiding her hair. She didn't even speed up, nor did a single muscle in her body move to indicate that anyone else was even in the room with her. He had looked up now and saw that her expression was blank with the exception of her downcast eyes.
He decided to try again. He felt obligated to do so. They had made each other feel good before, many years before adulthood. He was eighteen now, and she just two years older than him. They were grown up, but this wasn't grown up behavior. They were dealt a hand of cards, and they needed to play it. There was no giving up in the game of life, he told himself.
"Dis could be a big opportunity," he continued vainly. "Dis be a salaried position, and dey said a Horde officer can send everything I earn back here to da village. We can live well, da whole family can. Dey gonna give me a stipend for food and necessities up at da base, so everything else is gonna be sent to ya here." It was good news; she was being taken care of. Things weren't so bad. Maybe the day has just been shocking to her. If their wedding day was overwhelming for him, he could only imagine how it must feel for her.
As Zulwatha brushed her hair, she finally cocked her chin up a bit to get a better look in the mirror. She was still ignoring him with the most disinterested look she could muster, but speaking out had helped him to gain enough confidence to look in her direction now. He did his best to scan the back of her shoulders, her lovely orange hair as it spilled over her back, the white night gown that was far more conservative than normal attire for Darkspear women in the home, the surface of the top of the dresser. Anything to look in her direction without the intimacy of eye contact.
This wasn't right. They could still be cordial to each other. It didn't feel as though he was rushing her; they normally spoke so openly. It was as though her personality just flipped, and in those few short weeks she had become a completely different person. He was determined to be her counselor, like he had always been, to help her through this as they had helped each other through other problems. Even if now, their problem was each other.
"Ya looked great in ya tribal garb tonight, Thawa," he said with a smile. Truthfully, she had looked quite good, though their long friendship had prevented him from looking at her in that way before. She was a sister to him in all but blood. Perhaps calling her by her nickname - a nickname she only allowed five people on all of Azeroth to use, including him - would remind her just who they had been to each other. He wanted so bad for her to be happy. Couldn't she see that?
She opened the glass jar full of yellowish-clear lotion and rubbed some between her palms. Her chin was cocked down again, focusing on her task. She was always so hard-headed, but she had never been closed off. She was an open book, even to people outside their circle of friends. This was not Zulwatha sitting before him now. It was almost as if another person had possessed Zulwatha's body. She didn't act this way with anybody, not even people she didn't like.
"I ain't never seen ya momma so happy, like she was tonight," he said as he searched for the right spot, the right piece to the puzzle to bring the old Thawa back. "Ya sister too, ya know, an' they were talkin' about it back at her weddin' a few months ago. Da whole family be happy for ya now. Dey gonna support ya when I be out west. I...I think everything is gonna be alright." It was idle talk, but he was out of his element. She was the one person he could always talk to, and all of a sudden she was holding out on him. He didn't know what to do.
Stop delaying. Get down to business.
He shoved the voice down, pretending it was his own intuition urging him to get to the point. There was no reason to wait. As she began massaging the lotion into her legs, he took a deep breath and decided that her silence was an invitation to have the talk.
"Look, Thawa...I didn' want this either. Ya know that. I don' even need ta tell ya, ya could always read me." The sadness in his eyes was real, though he did make an effort to bring it out more. She had to know he was sincere.
"I'm sorry dey made dis happen. I really am. It wasn' meant ta be, an' I know it ain't fair to ya...but we can still be happy. We can make dis work in our own way. Ya my best friend in da whole world, Thawa. Ya told me dat I be da same ta ya. We can still be best friends in private, ya know. Nothin has ta change between us in reality. In public, I guess we gotta fake it a bit, pretend dat we a normal couple, just distant from each other. I'm sorry things can' be da way dey was before, but it is what it is. No reason for us ta be mad at each other. We can still be friends and we both know da truth, right?"
Zulwatha's hands continued working the lotion into her skin without interruption despite the speed of her answer. She really had been waiting for this.
"You a man, you coulda fought dis. It be different for ya. Ya know dat. A woman ain't got no choice in an arranged marriage, and ya know dat too and ya let it happen," she said with more than a hint of resentment in her voice. Her eyes were still focused on her legs, not a hint of strain to be found. He was beginning to feel like it wasn't just an act and she really didn't want to be around him.
This was the discussion she had wanted, and now his confidence was back. His friend was still there, somewhere, and was responding to him. He would convince her that this wasn't his fault. She would see.
"What choice did I have, den? Our parents were all best friends since dey was kids, our daddies and our mommas. Dey from a different time, dey don' understand that a man an' a woman can be just friends. Dey saw us always tagether and dey got da wrong idea, and ya know dey weren't da only ones from da elders." There was no anger or frustration in his voice just as there wasn't any in his heart, but his tone was pointed and insistent. He felt that she wasn't being fair.
"Ya know my daddy's condition, Thawa," he pushed out in a controlled speed. He didn't want to sound angry, but he needed to speek before she interrupted him. She needed to hear this. "He be a lot older than my momma and ya parents, and ever since his heart failed him he just been talkin' about grandkids all da time. What was I supposed ta do? Tell him that he had ta wait another year, tell him again dat it wasn' time with no explanation? What if his heart stopped on him again? What about all da pressure on ya momma since..."
He hesitated before the next part. "Ya sister be younger dan ya and she got married already. It be wrong, Thawa, ya know me and ya know I don' agree with that kinda thinkin'. But what was I gonna do? Dey all decided we was ta get married before I even came back from da war, dey already decided and made plans for us. Ya wanted me ta fight da whole village, da whole culture?"
He paused there. He felt like he wanted to say more but it must have been overwhelming for her at that point. Their friendship had always been very balanced and they both took care to let each other speak, even though she was the elder when they were children. It was time for him to shut up and see what she had to say.
Zulwatha slipped her feet into a pair of thong house sandals custom made for troll feet and pulled her gown down over her thighs. She sat still on the chair, her hands folded over her stomach as she stared at the floor.
"Go ta ya new job in da Barrens. Be da good provider dey want ya ta be. Get buried in ya work an' stay dere. Ain't no reason for ya ta come back four times a year."
Still as a statue, she sat on her chair and continued staring at the floor. He waited for her to say something, anything, to break the silence. But she did not. She had said her piece and was done for the night. He decided not to push it.
His own eyes became downcast at his failure to help his former best friend feel better. What made it even worse was the fact that she was clearly blaming him for this. He meant every word he said, about not having been able to fight the entire culture, but her refusal to acknowledge that stung him as though it was his fault. Defeated, he crawled onto his side of the bed and lied down with his back to her. He wasn't ready to sleep, but the tension was so thick that he could't sit up straight under its mass. Leaving the bedroom wasn't an option, given that his mother and mother-in-law were staying in the same hut that night. He could hear their hushed voices drifting up the hall from the bedroom on the opposite side of the long hut. The partitions between the rooms and halls weren't strong enough as sound barriers.
"We can' sleep yet."
He looked over his shoulder to see her standing at the foot of the bed with her hands at her sides, her downcast eyes focused on some spot on the bedsheets. Her head was crooked down as she waited for a response.
Her obvious disappointment depressed his mood and extinguished any excitement he felt when he first entered the bedroom he was to share with her for the first time. There was no way he could perform in a situation like this.
"Ya don' gotta worry about dat, girl," he mumbled. "Ya don' gotta deal with me or be around me. I'm gonna respect ya space."
"No." Her voice was monotone yet still managed to sound matter-of-factly despite her lack of enthusiasm for even uttering the word. "It be different for ya. Dey all gonna judge me based on how soon."
It was almost as if she were trying to fill the air with as much awkwardness and discomfort as possible. "Thawa, da Darkspear be a part of da Horde now. Things be different, da Warchief even made gender equality one of da two stipulations for us joinin' -"
"Ya know dat doesn' change anything out here in da villages," she droned, cutting him off.
In the un-sexiest way possible, she pinched her underwear through her gown and shoved it down, allowing it to drop to her ankles. Like an Ironforge golem, she mechanically crawled onto the bed next to him and lied down unceremoniously on her back. Her knees were up in the air, though other than that her limbs were as limp as a corpse. For a split second, he saw a glint of sadness rush over her face before she closed her eyes and forced it away. It pained him to see the person who was once closest to him so distant and hurt, yet fighting his every attempt to make things better.
He was propped up on his right elbow, shifting between watching her eyelids and staring at the curtains. There was no romance or sexual chemistry between them even as best friends. Now she even seemed to be trashing their friendship, making it feel like two uncomfortable strangers forced to split a room.
Zulwatha moved her knees a bit further apart as she draped her entire left arm over the upper part of her head. Her forehead, eyes and nose were now hidden from his vision.
"Let's get dis over with," she rasped in a voice that was as far from sultry as one could conceive. She was being serious.
He let out a long sigh as he sat up, hesitating for a long time. She didn't budge, doing her best to demonstrate to him that she didn't want this, didn't want him, didn't want anything other than the morning to come.
Slowly, he slid off and stood at the end of the bed to remove his sarong. This was not how he had ever imagined his wedding night would be.
A/N: For those wondering about Zulwatha's ultimate fate (I received a lot of PMs), I will say the following. Characters in my stories who receive names will appear more than once. It may be across several stories and some appearances may be cameos, but their tales aren't finished. Think of all the people you pass by in your every day life; you never get to know most of them. That's the case with my stories: most of the characters are in the background and nameless, like people passing by somewhere. Those with names are intended to appear again, and Zulwatha pops in to You, Me & Us as well as oneshots I've planned for Domestication.