Gylledra woke still feeling tired. She'd gone to bed and sometime later heard Varok enter the room. He stood for a long moment before undressing and getting in beside her. He did not move close to her and gather her in his arms like he usually did, and it only served to make her feel more wretched. Now there were two things to contend with in addition to trying to ensure the celebration was a success.

The long hours she had put in working on the planning had paid off when she found that there was relatively little to actually do the morning things were to begin. Varok had been gone already when she got up that morning and again, she felt disappointed he'd said nothing to her. She didn't believe he'd been going through her things intentionally, but that didn't change the fact that he had. He had a great many things lying about pertaining to Orgrimmar and the Kor'kron which she never looked at, though she wasn't particularly curious about them.

"Pava, everything is done, why did we get up so early?" Gylledra asked, trying her best not to sound as though she was whining.

"To get ready, of course…" Pava stared at her.

"Get ready? Everything is ready…" She glanced around the Valley of Strength where vendors were setting up their booths and some last minute decorating was happening. The sun had not risen yet above the cliffs that surrounded the city and it still felt shadowy and cool. The patrolling guards were still carrying torches even.

"No, I mean for us to get ready for the celebration…what do you plan to wear?"

"If you speak of clothing too loudly, Nasorya will appear out of nowhere and…" Gylledra stopped as she heard the familiar elevated chatter and laughter from afar. "See? I swear she can sense such discussions. The monster she becomes with clothing makes her dragon form look like a kitten." The dragon in question spotted them from across the valley and waved enthusiastically.

"You've planned nothing?" Pava looked bewildered.

"I didn't realize I was supposed to…"

"I figured as much. You're very fortunate, you know, that I was clever enough to plan ahead for just this very thing."

"You what?"

"Come on." Pava took her by the wrist, gesturing to Nasorya to follow as they headed toward Gylledra's own house. "It's a big day, we must look our best."

Her own physical appearance was something Gylledra only rarely ever considered. It wasn't until knowing Varok that she thought with any regularity about how she appeared. He'd chuckled at her before when she had mentioned her lack of knowledge when it came to the orcish sense of beauty, making it seem as though there wasn't one. Pava demonstrated otherwise as she gathered clothes from a chest Gylledra hadn't even noticed in the corner of her bedroom before.

"Lord Saurfang allowed me to conspire to get these here." Pava explained before she could even ask how they had gotten there, then tossed them down on the bed. It was strange having anyone in her bedroom that wasn't Varok, it had become their quiet, private sanctuary where none could invade or interrupt their sleep…or anything else.

It wasn't an extravagant house, orcish architecture primarily centered on practicality. It was big enough for them to live comfortably, the library was probably the most frivolous room in an orc's opinion. The bedroom itself was fairly large; the ceiling was vaulted and there was a fireplace. The bed was expansive of course, it had to fit an orc after all. There was a simple wooden armoire with Gylledra's things kept within and one of the adjoining rooms was where Varok kept his armor and various clothing items. The other adjoining room was the bath chamber, Gylledra's second favorite room. Downstairs, in addition to the allegedly frivolous library was an entire armory where there was more armor as well as what Gylledra thought was a nearly inordinate stockpile of weapons. Though some were things that belonged to warriors who had died in battle.

"Gylledra?" Nasorya's voice called from downstairs. "Are you home?"

"Up here!" She replied.

"How exciting!" Nasorya beamed, entering the room a moment later and making a beeline for Pava as she organized the tangle of items from the chest.

On the table by her side of the bed, Gylledra noticed a small parcel which had not been there when she'd risen that morning. With Pava and Nasorya busy chattering about the upcoming events of the day, she picked it up, turning it over slowly in her hand. The paper, she realized, was what Varok had taken from her desk the night before. It was folded neatly and tied with thin twine; there was no writing on it but she knew it was from him.

With her back to the others, she sat on the edge of the bed, carefully untying the tidy knot. There was something wrapped inside the paper that moved with a tiny metallic clink. Once unfolded, Gylledra saw there were seven metal rings, not the type for fingers, six of them comprised three matching pairs made of steel, each with a different design and the seventh was very small, highly polished silver. Carefully, she poured the rings into her hand, looking closely at them, touching the texture. It was fine metalwork, dwarven, she was sure. The rings had been wrapped in a letter; to her shock, he'd written in Shalassian, which itself she found touching.

Dear Gylledra – I owe you an apology, there is no excuse for having invaded your privacy. I deeply regret that I have upset you, and crossed a line that risked damaging the trust you have in me. It will not happen again, and while we both know the hollowness words can have, I assure you, I mean every word and will endeavor from here on to prove it through my deeds. I can see that there is more beyond that, which weighs on you, and I will not press you to tell me, but please know that I will do whatever I must to help if I can.

While sometimes I think to myself that you must know well the regard in which I hold you, I know I have not often said it. It has been an honor I cannot put into words to have been chosen by you, to have the happiness I thought never possible that I certainly do not deserve. Perhaps your titans have smiled upon me for some unknown reason, I cannot speculate much, I only can be grateful. I want you to have the items enclosed, I sought them from your Dwarven friend, Rook, I know how you admire her work.

When you read this, it will be the morning of the celebration in the great city we have built. It is a joy to see my people again in a home, and an even greater joy still that we share it together. I look forward to having you at my side as we stand with our Warchief. I love you. – Varok

Gylledra read the letter over two more times, she had not expected him to notice that there was something else wrong, but it was not something she would burden him with. She could not bear it if he were to go through with a ceremony simply to placate her. She had been content without it before, she could be content with it now. He loved her, he said it, he showed it, and she knew that he meant it, and that was all that mattered. Smiling inwardly, with her lower lip between her teeth she felt a warm feeling deep inside her that bloomed outward, something much grander and deeper than any physical response she'd had to him. She looked down at the metal rings in her hand, they really were quite beautiful. They were Dwarven made, but they were Orcish jewelry. Typically, Gylledra never wore such adornments, not because she didn't want to, but because she'd never had any reason to, and simply because she just never had any to begin with.

"Can you pierce my ears?" She turned and asked suddenly, interrupting the chatter.

"I can pierce whatever you want me to." Pava grinned in response.

"What?" Gylledra blinked, slightly taken aback as Pava chuckled.

"You heard me." The somewhat lewd grin on her face led Gylledra to wonder just what else exactly orcs commonly pierced.

.

Saurfang was uncertain about how angry Gylledra was with him, though he hadn't exactly given her the opportunity to tell him. He was well out of practice when it came to domestic disagreements, more than two decades out of practice…and Gylledra was not an orc. He imagined that in a lot of ways, she would be much less pleasant even than an angry orcish wife. He trudged broodingly around, completing his morning duties, double checking the plans for security and that the officers who served beneath him would have everything in order. Technically he would still be overseeing things, but he intended to spend the day with Gylledra, having some recreational time for the first time…since they'd even met.

"Did you have a fight?" Nasorya appeared out of nowhere and he quickly looked over to where she was now walking along at his side.

"What?" He frowned, certainly not about to reply one way or the other, though if she was asking it meant Gylledra hadn't said anything about it. He wondered if that was bad or good.

"You both look wretched, I can think of nothing else that would cause that." She went on. At least she wasn't asking more questions. "Whatever it was, I know she will forgive you." Why was she assuming he needed forgiveness? Though, she wasn't wrong. "She will forgive you anything, you know. Well, almost anything, probably. But I suspect you would do the same of her."

Nasorya smiled up at him, putting a hand lightly on his arm before she headed off in another direction. It was very different for her not to be teasing him, for her to be genuinely helpful. He saw that like Gylledra, there was much more to the dragon than what anyone could see.

When he rose, the sun was not up yet, he had not seen Gylledra since then, the curving shape of her beneath the blanket as she slept on her side. He'd kept an eye out for her as he went about his duties, to no avail. There was plenty that needed to be seen to at Grommash Hold still, though he was distracted for most of the morning, lost in his own thoughts.

The schedule was that at three hours past mid-day, a procession led by Thrall, his advisors, and of course numerous Kor'kron guards, would leave Grommash Hold, passing through the Valley of Honor, acquiring whoever wished to join along the way, then they'd make their way through part of the Drag to the Valley of Spirits and finally enter the Valley of Strength where most everyone would be gathered. Thrall would make a speech, and the revelry, which undoubtedly would have only just barely paused, would continue with music, food, drinking, and whatever else any and all participants wanted to do. Gylledra was supposed to be at Saurfang's side for the procession, and as the time drew nearer, he grew somewhat concerned that she had yet to arrive. He wanted her there with him for all to see; he needed her there. This was as much her home as the orcs, she had worked just as hard, had sacrificed just as much. In any other situation with any other elf, he doubted a pairing such as theirs would be at all accepted, let alone welcomed. Though she had never said so, he could tell she worried often enough about that. He was not ashamed of her, he was proud that a warrior such as she saw him fit to be her partner. Everyone knew her strength and her power, and everything she had done for them. It helped that they were both too old to have or want offspring, which would have been impossible anyway. Saurfang's youth had long since left him, but whatever was left of his life, he wanted to spend it with Gylledra.

The conversation in the throne room of the Hold droned on in a dull roar as those present waited for Thrall's direction to assemble. Saurfang nodded periodically when it sounded like he was supposed to in the conversation going on with the orc and the troll standing with him, but he wasn't listening. His gaze was fixed blankly on a spot on the wall across the room from him and it wasn't until the room got oddly quiet that he came to attention, glancing around for the cause, expecting Thrall to have begun assembling.

All eyes seemed pointed in one direction and Saurfang turned toward the doorway to see what they were looking at. His mouth dropped open a little bit as he stared like an idiot just as everyone else was. Gylledra had stepped into the throne room, but did not appear as she typically did. Publicly, on a regular day, Gylledra appeared one of two ways, covered from neck to toe in dark leather pants and a vest or jacket, or in her plate armor, with her hair back in a long braid. Practicality was always first and foremost in her mind and despite not particularly caring about the aesthetics of her day to day attire, she always looked beautiful he thought.

She was dressed at present in distinctly orcish garb. The top was a dark, rich brown leather, ornately carved, studded, and fit her as though she'd been poured into it, her breasts accentuated with a long slice of visible cleavage. Her midriff was bare, the silvery arcane marking glinted in the light. There were various straps and buckles, arm bands to match around her upper arms and bracers, all of it emphasizing her warrior's physique. Around her hips was a leather loincloth of the same design as her top, a heavy, studded belt with straps and flaps that tapered off between her thighs. There was gray fur poking out from under the edges of the belt, no doubt for comfort as well as aesthetics, to keep the hard edges from chafing. There were straps around her thighs attached to the belt, and her legs were wrapped from the knees down in matching boots.

When Saurfang closed his mouth and tore his eyes from her body he saw her hair was loose down her back, two small braids hanging down in front of her ears, the top portion intricately braided back from her forehead. To his shock, he saw her ears were pierced each three times; the two larger sets of hoops went through her lobes, the smallest set was about halfway up her long ears. Her eyes, which were on him, were slightly darkened with kohl and he noticed then the small, delicate silver loop hung through her nose above her lip.

Gylledra didn't seem to notice everyone staring and when Saurfang cleared his throat, all conversation resumed as she made her way toward him. He stepped away from the conversation he'd been a non-participant in and met her part way across the room, his pulse racing as it often did with her.

"In truth I thought you'd make them into a necklace instead." He gestured to her earrings, careful not to touch in case the new piercings were sore.

"Because I'm so predictable?" She arched one brow at him and Saurfang gave a snort.

"Yes, that's what you are." He murmured, then took her hand, his voice lowered. "I am sorry. I must know that you forgive me."

"Yes, I know. I do forgive you." She smiled. "There is nothing I would keep from you. If you like, when this is all over today, we can talk at length in private about anything you wish."

"I would like that." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him a bit.

"Me, too."

"How do you like orcish clothes?" Saurfang changed the subject then, pointedly avoiding whatever the other thing was that she had not mentioned yet, whatever it was.

"I quite like them." She looked down at herself. "I might get more things like this, its more comfortable than I'd have thought."

"I'll never get anything done."

"That's your problem." She flashed a wicked grin.

"I will suffer well." He said, close to her ear. "Just so long as I can peel them off you when we get home."

"That is the idea."

.

Gylledra could feel the eyes on her as she stood beside Varok, though she pretended not to notice. Since construction had begun on the city they had not been seen together much since they each had their own separate responsibilities. It had led to whispered speculation of course as to whether or not their wartime attraction had continued since the battles had ended.

Orcs weren't particularly inclined toward gossip in the open, but they enjoyed rumors and intrigue as much as anyone else, and whether she liked it or not, she had become a much-discussed topic since coming to the Horde. Varok choosing to have Gylledra stand at his side as they officially made their way through the newly-built city was as much an open declaration of their union as if they had sent out written invitations to a wedding the way the Nightborne did. It was unnerving and exciting at the same time; her life had taken a wildly unexpected turn.

Thrall led the procession and it was incredible to walk through Orgrimmar and see the faces of those who lived there and the faces of their new allies, all of them joining the march to the Valley of Strength where the revelry would truly begin. The new construction all around them represented the rebirth of the Horde, they'd returned to their shamanistic roots, moving away from the constant state of conquering and invasion they had spent many decades in the midst of. There was hope again that they might live a life connected to the elements, that they could raise their families and exist without the strife and tragedy.

The crowd was silent as they looked up at their Warchief. There was pride in his eyes, and hope. They had earned this peace, this home…it made Gylledra's heart swell to have been part of it, to see people who had driven back the Legion, who despite their sacrifices and the grievous experiences they'd endured, they came out the other side of it alive and they were not the monsters many believed they were.

"It has been a long journey rife with bloodshed and loss, but finally, at the end of it…we are home. The orcs will never again be pawns for demons or slaves to humans. We hold dominion over ourselves in this land, Durotar, in this city, Orgrimmar. We are grateful to our allies and welcome them to our new home. This is the beginning of a new era, FOR THE HORDE." Thrall raised his hammer and the crowd roared in response and the sound echoed off the cliffs like thunder.

Gylledra felt perhaps even a little overwhelmed by his words and by the response. The change in the orcs from the day she had first met them to this was incredible. No longer were they outcasts wandering in search of a home, they had found one and woe betide any that might try and take it from them.

There was a pavilion set up not far from the food stalls that Thrall decided to make his own. Gylledra sat beside Varok as he, Eitrigg, and other older veterans told stories, some of them were their own, others were of legendary orcs that had earned a place of honor in their history. Thrall himself listened, rapt, but managed to look like their Warchief and not the young orc he was. He'd been born on Azeroth, sometime after the orcs had come through the dark portal, which made him only twenty years old. Orcs matured faster than many other races, however, but he'd grown up a slave, he hadn't heard all the stories as a child or spent nights by fires listening to such tales. Despite his history, he'd united the surviving orcs, liberated the incarcerated ones, and here they sat, now in their own land.

Eitrigg regaled them with a tale of his youth when he'd been caught unawares by three ogres whilst he and his young mate were in the midst of making a vigorous effort to get her with child. They roared with laughter and Gylledra somehow couldn't quite picture a youthful, pantsless Eitrigg fending off his attackers with a rickety tree branch.

Varok's fingers trailed up along Gylledra's spine, sending a shiver of anticipation through her. He was a veteran orc, older than most, but however white his hair might be, his mind gravitated to certain subject matter as potently as any young male. For nearly a week or more even, the days had been very long and the nights exhausted, for both of them. There had been little time alone together and the aching flame at Gylledra's center was very close to consuming her entirely.

She was hyperaware of him, his movement, the sound of his breath, and now the torturous way his fingertips skimmed over her bare skin. Her attention wasn't even on the stories anymore, and it was doubtful that his was either. When suddenly one of the many buckles came undone, Gylledra whipped her head around to look at him, his face still completely impassive and attentive, eyes on whoever was speaking. She narrowed hers at him though, and finally he glanced down briefly. Most everyone was faced away from them and didn't notice when she got to her feet and slipped away between a couple buildings and into the alleyway that ran between them and the cliff, but she was still within earshot.

To her knowledge, there was no stealthy way for an orc of Varok's mass to stand up and depart his companions, but a few moments later he came around the corner and there had been no break in the voice currently taking his turn captivating them with a long-ago battle.

"You managed not to be seen leaving?" She asked him quietly as he loomed over her, his intent plain on his face.

"You don't give me much credit for going unnoticed, do you?" He smirked.

"Well, you haven't managed to truly sneak up on me yet." Gylledra shrugged.

"Hey…where'd Saurfang go?" Someone at the pavilion asked suddenly.

"I can guess!" Came a slurred, lewd reply that sounded a lot like Broxigar.

"Well, hopefully there are no ogres." Thrall's deep voice carried well, and the comment was met with another uproar of hilarity. Varok grinned, grabbing her by the waist. He lifted her, and she held on with arms and legs, but he pressed her against the wall.

"You'd have me right here in the alley?" She murmured, her mouth close to his.

"Absolutely…and against a wall." He pressed his lips to hers and she could faintly taste ale on him. Gylledra gave a pleased sigh as his tongue slid against hers, pressing her hips against the hard ridge that strained inside his trousers. She kissed Varok's neck, gently biting him then took his lobe between her teeth and he moaned. His hand made its way up the inside of her thigh but out the corner of her eye, Gylledra saw shadows shift far down the empty alleyway and she turned her head, listening into the darkness, focusing beyond the sound of Varok's breath. He'd frozen the instant she did, knowing she must have sensed something, his instincts were sharp regardless of how much blood had left his brain to fill up other things.

"There's someone here who should not be." She whispered, and he released her at once. She searched the shadow and saw the outline of a figure moving very slowly, but she also saw the long ears. A night elf! Most likely a rogue, few others could wrap themselves in darkness and fewer still could see through it as she could. "Do not raise the alarm, I will take care of this."

"A spy?" He asked.

"I cannot think of any other reason for a night elf to be seen lurking here."

Gylledra melted into the shadows as though her very substance was that of darkness, and in some ways, it was. She moved fast, making her way silently after the intruder. He turned a corner, and then another as she was gaining on him and was moving at a full run as she turned the second corner. He made the mistake of stepping too close to sunlight as they neared the edge of the Drag. With only a thought, Gylledra's bow was in her hand and she had a black void bolt nocked. She aimed and released and heard the grunt when it struck him as he crept along, believing himself unseen. The impact had knocked him to the ground, but not pierced him. Killing elves certainly wasn't going to earn her the trust she needed to recruit from them.

The shock on the nigh elf's face as Gylledra approached him bordered on comical and with a gesture, he was flat on his back on the ground, arms and legs splayed, held in place by smoky black tendrils of void. She folded her arms, looking down at him for a moment. His chest was heaving, golden eyes fixed on her in both anger and confusion.

"Risky, isn't it? Sneaking into a Horde city in broad daylight." She asked him in Darnassian. It was still close enough to her own language that it had been easy to pick up as they worked with the elves during the battle on Hyjal. He was free to speak but set his jaw. "I'm sure you thought we'd all be sufficiently distracted by the celebration. I'm not going to kill you, or even harm you, so you need not fear for your life." Her captive had long, dark purple hair, and a short, well-groomed beard to match, which looked a good bit more decent than some of the more feral-looking druids amongst the night elves. His skin was a paler hue of purple and she had forgotten just how large male night elves were.

"What kind of an elf chooses to be here?" He asked, the disbelief evident in his voice.

"I'm not a night elf, so I don't see what business that is of yours." She smiled and to his wide-eyed horror, knelt astride him, unfastening the buckles on his jacket.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking back what you borrowed, of course. If you're going to spy for Tyrande and Malfurion you're going to have to get better at it." She pulled several envelopes and folded sheets of paper from an inside pocket. Opening them, she saw they were rough copies rather than originals. "Smart enough to leave the actual documents intact at least." She murmured. "Wouldn't want to incite Horde retaliation."

"Why are you here?"

"Why are you, the spy that I've caught in my city, asking me the questions?" Gylledra couldn't deny her amusement at how bewildered he was. "I'm here because I choose to be, and in my efforts to save this world from the invading Legion, I have made allies where I can find them. My allies happened to be orcs. I'm familiar with the way elves think of outsiders, one of many things we disagree on." She continued going through his pockets. "Your politics mean nothing to me, no more than Thrall's do, believe it or not. I care not at all for the corporeal squabbles of those who live here."

"You don't care what happens to anyone?" He scoffed.

"On the contrary, I care what happens to everyone. I didn't say that your conflicts are unimportant, but when the idea is to keep the world from being destroyed by an insane titan, it makes being upset about felled trees look a little silly, no?" She met his eyes and he said nothing for a moment. "What's your name?"

"You think I'd tell you?"

"I am Gylledra Alenos." She introduced.

"And you're just going to…let me go?"

"Yes, when I've finished talking to you." She gave a shrug.

"What about everything I've seen?"

"What about it? Would you be satisfied if I said I was going to reach into your mind and rummage around for memories to squash?" Gylledra refastened his jacket then folded her arms, still kneeling over him. "I could have killed you with one arrow, or in any number of other ways while I've had you at my mercy. I am not interested in killing you, or anyone really…it just seems to happen a lot in war."

"Rell Nightwind." He finally told her his name. The restraints on one of his arms vanished and she reached out, shaking his hand; he stared at her in complete astonishment.

"It has been nice meeting you, I do appreciate that you haven't been vile or rude." She told him.

"I…yes, of course, well…that wouldn't really get me anywhere, would it?" He almost smiled and looked more confused to be having what could almost pass for a pleasant conversation. "Were you…with an orc in the alley?"

"Have a good day, Rell Nightwind, give Tyrande and Malfurion my best." She smiled, ignoring his question and he disappeared in a small puff of black smoke as she ported him out to the middle of Ashenvale. He'd be able to find his way back to them from there.

Varok was still waiting where she had left him and she smiled as she approached, holding the stolen papers.

"That's all you got?" He asked.

"Was I supposed to come back with his head?" She eyed him a little warily. "It would be rather stupid, don't you think, to bring harm to someone who essentially is your neighbor?"

"But you caught him?"

"I did, and I spoke to him, he even told me his name. He was incredibly confused of course." She gave a small laugh. "You should have seen his face."

"What documents was he trying to take?" Varok's frown deepened and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She'd been hoping to resume their previous activity.

"Likely he was disappointed that he didn't find invasion plans or some such thing. From what I read, they're just security briefings, schedules, nothing that will actually jeopardize anything." She sighed. "I'm going to let Thrall know and then I think I will go home for a bit…for a rest." Not for a rest, not at all for a rest and he knew it.

Thrall looked concerned when Gylledra returned holding papers and considering what they all obviously, and correctly, assumed she and Varok had run off to do, it was odd to return as she had.

"I took these off a spy I just happened to encounter. I searched him, he had nothing else. Probably hunting for evidence that you're planning to invade." She explained, handing over the copies.

"Was it an ogre?!" A sloppily intoxicated orc sitting off to Thrall's left cackled madly at his own joke, nearly swaying off the bench he sat on. Beside him, Broxigar clapped him on the back, joining in his amusement.

"No, just a night elf, luckily." She smiled though.

"And you let him go?" Thrall asked.

"Yes."

"Good. I don't want to give them any reason to start plotting an attack." He gave a nod.

"My thoughts exactly. Enjoy the rest of your evening, Warchief."

"Cause she's about to enjoy hers!" Broxigar called, inciting more drunken laughter from the other orcs.

Gylledra did not dally getting home and she threw down the bolt once inside. There would be no more interruptions for the night! The thick floorboards overhead creaked a little as she heard Varok moving around

She hurried upstairs and stepped into the bedroom to find him in just his trousers and she took in the sight of him for a moment. She had memorized every inch of him, every scar, every line, every muscle…but she never tired of simply gazing at him and the sheer strength he embodied. When she reached up to begin unfastening her own buckles, he stopped her hands.

"Leave it on." He told her, using the only tone she'd ever obeyed because of what it promised. Gylledra watched his eyes, waiting for whatever was next and she saw him looking at the standing mirror across the room. Her heart started beating faster when he shoved the upholstered bench at the foot of the bed toward the mirror.

"What are you doing?" She asked, nervous and excited at the same time.

"Come here." He took her gently by the arm, pulling her over to stand in front of him and she stared at their reflection. Truthfully it was something she'd never looked at before, the two of them together like that. He was so large that his body framed hers and her breath caught as he splayed one hand over her middle. "What do you see?"

"You." She breathed.

"I see us both." He rumbled, and his fingers moved downward, slipping beneath the leather draped at her hips. Gylledra gasped, leaning back against Varok as he found her, and she closed her eyes, exhaling a shuddering breath as one finger moved in a small, rhythmic circle. "Look." She forced her eyes open and was a little shocked to watch what he was doing…watching and feeling it at the same time somehow intensified the sensation. Her mouth dropped open when he lifted the leather with his free hand and she stared at the movement. One finger slipped inside her and she clutched at his thighs, making a surprised but pleased sound.

Just as she felt that glorious tension building, though, he stopped, and her indignation seemed to amuse him. Without a word, he made quick work of the buckles and straps that held her bottoms on and they fell to the floor.

"Kneel on the bench." He ordered.

"Wha—"

"You heard me." Varok grinned, pointing to the bench and Gylledra did as she was told. Her back was still toward him and she watched in the mirror as he unlaced his trousers, freeing himself before stepping up behind her. Staring at their reflections, she couldn't look away, fascinated and aroused to watch. She got onto all fours, but lowered to her elbows. Varok's gaze hungrily traveled over her, her backside up in the air, and he gripped her hips, squeezing a little then releasing. His eyes met hers in the reflection and he drove into her, making her cry out. He moved inside her and she pressed back against him, panting.

"More…" She groaned, and he obliged. The sight of him—his face, his muscles straining, his hips and thighs as he moved…it was all too much, and the tension snapped, her body writhing against him, her voice loud.

As the sensation ebbed away, he withdrew and Gylledra, still breathing fast, turned around, sitting on the edge of the bench, facing him. Before he could back away, she grabbed the waist of his trousers, pulling him forward and without warning, took him into her mouth. His shocked gasp was very satisfying as she let her tongue play over his flesh, stroking and swirling, her lips tight around him.

"By all that is—Gylledra…wait…" His chest rose and fell rapidly as he pulled back. "I'm…that's…"

"Good?"

"Too good." He shook his head, but his smile was answer enough. "Move back." She scooted a bit away from him and Varok sat, straddling the bench. He took her by the hips, pulling her onto his lap and filled her again. His eyes closed briefly and Gylledra kissed him; he was close, she could tell, and it gave her a thrill to know she could please him this way, that he wanted her. His face contorted as she moved, and he put his head back, crying out with release.

Gylledra was on her stomach in bed, hugging her pillow and staring sleepily into space as Varok lie beside her, trailing his fingers from the nape of her neck down to her thighs and back. The sensation relaxed her and she let out a long, happy sigh.

"I find myself wondering sometimes how this all came to be." She murmured.

"I found you naked by a creek. The rest is history." He chuckled.

"Not the literal events." She rolled over, smiling at him. "I believed for century after century…for millennia…that there was nothing meant for me but ultimately death at the hands of the Legion, that the things most others concerned themselves with would never be anything I would experience." She reached up to touch his cheek. "I had made my peace with that, I have existed a very long time with no company but that of a crazy, somewhat hedonistic dragon." A grin spread across her face and he chuckled.

"I can't say things have improved much, you're in bed with an ugly old orc now." He told her, then turned his head to kiss her fingertips.

"I'm in bed in the home I share with my mate." She retorted. "This is exactly where I want to be." He kissed her soundly, and she could feel warmth stirring again deep down.

"Don't think about the how or the why, it is of no consequence. The future is what matters now, and you are part of why we have one."