Obligatory disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, and I'm not usually a cruel person. Sorry to keep you hanging!
Two years. Two years of not knowing what she was doing with herself, or even if she had survived the burgeoning war; and yet, there she was. She looked really, really good, Ga'vik thought. She looked clean, and put-together, and calm, and busy, and terribly human, it was true… but that couldn't be helped. He did not like the way she kept her scars covered, though he supposed it prevented a lot of awkward questions. If he was truly honest with himself, he could admit that he did not like any of the clothes that she wore – long, demure robes that left too much to the imagination – but the green silk with gold trim did bring out the colour of her eyes.
"Ga'vik! Are you even listening to me? What's caught your attention over there?" Ti'jin turned to look in the direction of Ga'vik's stare, but - thank the loas - the hall was long and bustling. An enormous ogre was temporarily blocking his view of her. Ga'vik knew he would be able to see the human table again in a moment, but he forced himself to tear his gaze away.
"Just thinking," he replied. Ti'jin studied him doubtfully, but Ga'vik knew his brother would never guess the source of his distraction.
"That's the problem with you, pup," stated Ti'jin, eyes narrowed. "Too much thinking. Try not to think, just listen."
Ga'vik waited as Ti'jin started lecturing again, reading out loud from documents laid out before them, gesturing to one of the other trolls to bring over the maps. Fortunately, Ti'jin was not easily distracted.
After a few moments, Ga'vik sensed he was no longer on his brother's radar. He let his eyes drift back to the far side of the room… and there she was. She was seated at a table of similarly robed figures. Ga'vik had asked what he'd hoped were very vague questions of several members of the delegation before he'd determined that they were priests. So, that was the magic that the slave-collar had kept in check.
She hadn't looked in his direction even once, which is how Ga'vik knew that she knew he was watching her. She kept herself in profile to him, glancing up occasionally to look this way or that down the hall, carefully avoiding any attention to his corner, as if he were spelled with invisibility.
Ga'vik felt suddenly overheated and oddly breathless in the crowded hall.
"I need a break."
Ti'jin looked up in surprise. "What? Why? We've only been at this for two hours. We're meeting again with the consul in three…" Ga'vik didn't bother to hide a grimace at that.
"You know this isn't really my thing, Ti. Look, I'll be back before the next meeting; I just need to check on Lujin. She hates being left at the stable." Ga'vik stood, trying to ignore his brother's expression of frustration and disappointment. "Do you need anything?"
"No." Ti'jin waved him off.
Ga'vik stood and moved through the crowded hall toward the exit. He traced a path that took him within a few feet of her table. At the last moment, he stepped dramatically out of the way of the still-looming ogre so that his thigh bumped the back of Litha's chair, and his fingers just skimmed her shoulder. She whirled toward him, shocked, but he pretended not to notice, and continued to the door. His fingers tingled so badly he had to run them through his hair.
Ga'vik hurried out into the humid air outside, but hovered near the exit, waiting. He felt a rush of triumph when he saw her follow after a few minutes. She didn't come over to him, but looked once in his direction, her face tight and closed.
The troll looked up and down the main path, considering. It would be difficult to escape the crowds. In addition to the Horde and Alliance delegates and military leaders, there was an influx of merchants in the region, hoping to wring some gold out of the peace talks. When he looked back at Litha, she was flipping through a small stack of papers, apparently reviewing her notes. She did not return his gaze, but he could feel her attention on him, the way a hunter can sense when his prey is about to bolt.
Moving casually, he turned and strode away from the main buildings, ducked behind the stables, and drifted into the treeline. When he saw her peek hesitantly around the stable wall, he gave a soft whistle, and she followed him. Her face was flushed, and she had her hands tucked up her sleeves, no doubt clutching the small dagger she kept there.
After a few minutes of slow progress away from the town, the sounds of civilization were muffled by the dense foliage. Litha stopped following him and stood still in a small clearing, her eyes defiant. Ga'vik dropped into a crouch, hoping to put her at ease.
"What now?" she demanded, and Ga'vik felt his heart lurch. He wasn't sure what to say, actually. He'd wanted to talk to her, but had no particular topic in mind. It had seemed important just to get her attention, and get her alone. Loas, that sounds perverse, he thought.
"Is this about the talks?" she went on. "Is there something you need to tell me?" She bit her lip, warring emotions on her face.
"No… not about the talks." Ga'vik snapped his teeth together to clear his thoughts. "I just… how have you been?"