10.
Vol'jin pulled his robes around his body. Teal and dark blue, they reflected the colors of his tribe. Though he had made the effort to wash his fur and comb his hair, the Darkspear chief was becoming increasingly agitated. He wanted to blame it on the confining clothing. His tabbard usually clung to his chest, but it was sleeveless and allowed him far more breathing room. These ceremonial long-sleeved robes covered him nearly completely. He almost felt itchy. But in truth, this was only a small reason for his discomfort. In reality he was nervous, and Vol'jin did not like the reason why.
On his way into to city the Darkspear had spied Armadda. She had made ready for a dance, same as he, that took place annually to celebrate the closing of the Winter Veil holiday. She was dressed to the nines. Underneath a beautiful, layered silver necklace, a low, v-shaped neckline curved into a backless dress. It was so form-fitting that Vol'jin could see the indentations where her abdominal muscles were under the fabric. It had a long, trailing skirt that started jet black, gently gradienting to deep red, to blood red, then to orange, yellow and hot white. He had never seen anything like it and the sight of her sent him into complete panic. She had not seen him, the shadow hunter had quickly dodged her sight, but now he stalled inside, unable to convince himself to move. Then, he felt a familiar giant hand upon his shoulder - Thrall.
"Ready?", he grinned.
"No." Vol'jin replied, sharply. The orc simply chuckled and moved passed him. He waved his hand, beckoning the troll forward as the sound of drums began to fill the evening air. His heart beat in time with the instruments, but his feet compelled him forward. Outside, the sun had fully descended, but there was light in the city, great bonfires blazed around Orgrimmar, and many benches and food stalls were situated around elevated dancing stages. Most benches had already been filled. Vol'jin's people called out to him as he passed and he regarded each of them as evenly as he could. Eventually, though, the troll was brought to a grinding halt once again.
His eyes finally beheld a wondrous sight; Armadda had taken the floor of a stage, and with the rapid beating of a nearby drum, she danced unrestrained in the intense light of a nearby fire. Her wide hips rolled her body across the dance floor, strong legs flashing from under her flailing skirt. Her arms moved fiercely in time with the beat, her head and chest, by contrast gyrated pleasingly with her midsection. It sent her jewelry flying wildly around her. In her hand, the woman held a sheer, black scarf. Vol'jin recognized this article of clothing, noting that many races used this cloth to rope others into dancing with them. There were a few orc women on stage with her, but no males had been brave enough to set foot on the platform. Vol'jin finally came to stand at the base of the woodwork.
Armadda had noticed him from a distance away, and, as she danced, she made her own path to the edge of the floor. She smiled at the humbled troll, his mouth slightly agape, her eyes glowing eagerly. The woman sensually winked at him, even getting her shoulders in, then turned to face away. Armadda threw the cloth over her shoulder, and it came floating down to gently land on Vol'jin's face, draping itself across his tusks. Cheers and whoops sounded from the crowd around them. Many hands came into contact with the Darkspear's back, pushing him forward. He clutched the fabric in his hands.
Vol'jin looked to the cloth, then to the woman. She had clearly chosen him as her dance partner, but he was having difficulty accepting. His body was rigid, his heart beat loudly in his ears. Suddenly, the cloth was ripped from his hands. A large male orc now had the favor and intended to climb onto the stage. The crowd errupted into "oohs" and other surprised and mocking sounds. Armadda raised an eyebrow as she cocked her head over her shoulder to flash him a cheeky grin.
Vol'jin's arm came wheeling into the orc's chest with a vicious snarl, claws scratching at his skin. The troll's victim fell back at the force and Vol'jin seized the cloth from the thief. He bared his teeth defensively, ears pinned back against his neck, and the on-lookers laughed at the spectacle. Vol'jin thrusted his tusks in the other male's direction and the poor orc, his opportunity gone, slinked away through the crowd. The Darkspear's blood boiled angrily, and he vaulted onto the stage before anyone else could take his favor from him.
Armadda still had not fully turned to face him, but as he drew close to her, Vol'jin could see her little eyes sparkle. She was watching him, waiting for him to make a move. Gently, the troll wrapped the sheer cloth around the woman's neck, stringing a bow and slowly pulling it tighter. Then, he tentatively placed his hands upon her shoulders, forcing her to turn to him.
"I... I not be sure how ta dance wit' someone so small.", he admitted. She giggled lightly at him, and Vol'jin could barely hear her above the noise of the drums. She reached for his neck and pulled the troll down to her level, speaking directly into his ear.
"Just dance like you normally would. I'll make it work. That's what I do.".
It wasn't untrue, and a bit of Vol'jin's tension alleviated. He stood back to full height. He gradually began to move his body, first his legs, back and forth they took him, but also around as began to circle her. She followed him, keeping her hips perpendicular to his. Armadda raised her arms and flourished in a leisurely manner. The troll kicked into a bit of speed, his arms picking up the beat of the drums. They cut the space between them each time Vol'jin stepped back, and out again when he stepped near, switching arms each time. After a few minutes repeating this action, the troll placed a hand upon his partner's hip, drawing her in. She obliged and was soon lifted into the air, if only briefly. She laughed at the unexpected turn, and Vol'jin joined her. He sunk back a bit, and lifted his foot, clearing her head in an almost roundhouse kick. Noticing his wide stance, Armadda gained some floor space, then ran to her partner, sliding under him flawlessly. Not to be outdone, Vol'jin sprang into a back flip and landed on one hand, upside-down, beside her. She laughed harder and, using both hands, she pushed on his chest knocking him over. The crowd around them laughed heartily, and the Darkspear chief did as well. Armadda stood triumphantly before them, earning her a round of applause.
On his knees, Vol'jin was just shorter than the woman. She offered him a hand to help him up. He took her little hand, with it's superfluous fingers, in his own, but instead he lifted it to his lips and kissed her knuckles lightly. He did so without thinking. The troll had gotten so caught up in the moment, focusing on Armadda, that he had forgotten there were others around them. He felt a familiar, hot sensation creeping into him and he knew he wouldn't be able to contain it there on dance floor. He opened his eyes and regarded Armadda, but her face had fallen, as if she could feel something was wrong. It was strange to see her so concerned, and doubt crept back into his heart. He saw her lips move as she asked him something, but with the pounding in his head, Vol'jin did not hear. His heart raced and his throat tightened. The troll stood and pushed passed the human without explanation.
The Shadow Hunter made quick work of slipping through the crowd. He soon made his way to the gate with every intention to leave. Against his better judgement, he turned to look behind him. Armadda quickly raced on her stout little legs to catch up with him. Vol'jin steadied himself, waiting for a lecture, or some smug accusatory banter, but neither came. Silently, the woman untied the sheer cloth from her neck. She gently took Vol'jin's arm in her hands and retied the favor around his wrist. She sighed slightly, then took in a heavy breath. Armadda forced a sweet, reassuring smile. It was not her own, and they both knew, but Vol'jin appreciated the gesture anyway.
"Goodnight." She cooed. Vol'jin rested a finger under her chin, then gently traced his claw and thumb across her cheek.
"Goodnight."