Disclaimer: Hm, nope, fresh outta Warcrafts. I have a few cats if you're interested though.
A/N: Okay, let us start by saying that I still have no idea what I'm going to do about all the predicaments this story has run me into. So many loose ends to tie. But so fun! It's great to get feedback too, do you realize that I've almost hit forty reviews. Believe it or not, this is big for me! Anyhoo, here's some reader review replies! R!
Crimson Reaper, yah it does give me some type of feeling of romantic interest. Today was me and my boyfriends two month marker (ever since Valentine's Day). As for a song fic, I'm not crazy about Usher, so I don't know those songs. The rest of the three are all good choices, though I like Numb. Another good song in Sooner or Later by Breaking Benjamin, and maybe The Clincher by Chevelle. You can find all those on of course yay!
Azure Dragoness, no, I'm sorry but the pleasure of killing Malchior is mine alone. If he dies! Oh, plots! And as for being horribly entertained, isn't that a good feeling! I find that being lucid is only a cup of hot chocolate and about 7000 calories away.
Rhyia, Thank you! Being loved feels good!
So here is the next chapter, enjoy everyone….
Chapter Twelve: Crota
Malchior was not in a good mood. He spit and bristled like an angry dog, his hackles raised underneath the armor. He was tied in between Gwyn and Kat, roaring furiously as they were able to pull him along in a chain gang of sorts. The ropes binding were strong and secure, though they were not tied too tight. Everyone had a small dagger stolen from the Undead camp just in case the quick escape was necessary, everyone but Malchior that was. He couldn't be trusted with it because he was now bent of Var'Jun's blood. The two had been ordered not to talk to each other, but the troll was voicing his opinions of the paladin loudly to the druidess and smiling as it sent Malchior further and further into a rant.
"They will never believe you are prisoners." Yawna growled, looking rather awkward because she was trying to stare up at the approaching Thunderbluff while walking. The large plateau had risen it's spine over the horizon earlier that day, shaking sun from it's back and enticing them forwards.
"I can only hope that no one recognizes us." Var'Jun growled to his tauren companion, "If any troll calls out my name I'm worm meat." The warrior sniffed angrily, clutching his head as Malchior began a furious new batch of angry yelling that made his head hurt.
"Please, no yelling. You're making my head feel like a troupe of dwarves are banging hammers on my skull." The troll pressed two fingers to each temple, his intense yellow eyes closed for the moment.
"If you hadn't had all that beer last night then you would be able to stand our voices now." Kat spit, smiling despite herself. She was still shaky though, and her body jumped and flinched every time she was touched.
"I can never stand your voice," Var'Jun taunted ignoring his pained head, "It's always so sweet and concerned. 'Var'Jun, Var'Jun. Please be alive!'"
"Shut up," Kat spat back, blushing slightly and turning her head away from the troll. Unfortunately this lead her face to meet Malchior's angry gaze. She winced, the roped between their wrists tightening.
"You are the one who stopped me from killing him, dear Katherine. You know you could have stopped it here. But now we are prisoners." Malchior turned to look at Gwyn who's face was holding one of great annoyance at the Paladin.
Var'Jun was still shaken, though he feigned total strength. The troll was weakened slightly, and while he had lain asleep that night Malchior had made several more murder attempts. Only through Kat and Gwyn were they able to keep him off, for Yawna was the one tending to the troll.
"Fake prisoners." Yawna reminded them, "Just until we get through to Ratchet. Then we can unhand you and untie you. Ratchet is neutral, you know." The tauren winced as she heard the grinding of Thunderbluff's elevators in the distance. She looked to Gwyn, her mouth tightening. The elf's eyes had a strange far away look, the same look that she had when seeing things through an oracle's eyes.
"Your verdict, Gwyneth?" The tauren asked as Gwyn's eyes cleared back to their glowing light blue color. The elf blinked for a moment before sighing softly.
"Troubled waters ahead, captain."
"I'll keep that in mind." The tauren halted, taking Gwyn's wrist in her hand. It looked like a tight clench, though it really wasn't. The groups performance was about to begin as slowly the elevator of Thunderbluff fell. It was small, but the troupe bunched in and watched as the ground dropped from beneath them. Weary Traveler gave a little whine.
The elevator came to a grinding stop, the quick passage of Yawna and her friends immediately brought the attention of several Tauren guards. They were strong and sturdy, armed to the teeth and armored like tanks. They approached Yawna almost without question thinking her the leader of the group. Var'Jun saw the huntress transform into a hard-eyed captor in the blink of an eye. As a troll passed the warrior's vision he involuntarily tightened the grasp he had taken on Kat's hand (a nicer one in appearance then the fake grasp that Yawna had taken to Gwyn, a captor to captive clutch) as the elevator had risen.
She looked over, aware of the pressure that his body had converted to. Her face was worried, a light shock caressed over her features. She squeezed back, to his surprise, and he was dully aware that Malchior was watching them with a fiery gaze.
"Sorry Kat I-" He began his apology in barely a whisper under his breath, so soft that he could barely hear it himself. But she interrupted him with a warm smile that lasted no more than a breath's length. The troll steadied himself, braced against the predicament that they were in but also the wash of emotions that flooded over his mind.
"You are the Prince of the exiled trolls." Var'Jun reminded himself internally, "A steel wall against emotion."
"What do you mean by bringing these humans and the elf into Thunderbluff, young Tauren? Have you gone mad?" the guard demanded. It was not harsh though, more of a simple question than anything else. Yawna smiled back at him.
"They're prisoners from what is now Bloodhoof Village, as you know. We found them lurking around on our border and the Undead representative there demanded that we bring them for questioning in the Undercity." Yawna wrinkled her nose, "Though I doubt questioning is all they'll do."
The guard snorted, his face wrinkling into a grimace. The tauren held little love for the undead. It was only through the orcs that they were really connected to the Horde, but the undead's way of doing things often sickened the peaceful Tauren.
"You have that right." The second warrior responded, pulling a sheet of paper from his pocket. He dipped his finger into a pouch at his belt, the large digit coming out died with purple berry juice. He marked the paper with his finger print, offering it to the young tauren.
"If you take this to the Wind Rider Master then I'm sure he'll lend you some of the fastest Wind Riders that are reserved for Thunderbluff. They'll take you straight to Ratchet, those ones, specially trained. Good luck." With that the guards both saluted Var'Jun and Yawna and stomped off.
"Let's get outta here quick," Var'Jun's heavily accented voice cut through the silence that held the group, "This place is swarming with trolls today." He pulled Kat along, Yawna on the other side seemingly struggling to keep Gwyn moving. Malchior was the real help there. He was not acting when he kicked and struggled, calling out curses and angrily dragging himself backwards.
They reached the spiral tower that lead up to the Wind Rider's. At that moment Yawna felt everything give way. Her Awareness buzzed out of control suddenly, gathering up all the emotions of the city around her and flinging them into her face. She choked as the Awareness then plucked the fear of her friends, blowing it totally out of proportion and causing her to faint dead away, crashing down onto the ground in front of her.
Abandoning her role Gwyn knelt beside her, the bond cut in an instant by the dagger she had concealed. Kat followed suit, slicing through her and Malchior's bonds and commanding him to stay where he was. The fire she had put into the words kept the paladin, though half of it was the inability to leave the priestess for dead.
"Yawna," the elf shook her tauren companion, trying to figure out what had happened, "Yawna?" The guards from before came galloping over, the flat of a pole arm whipping down upon Gwyn. The night elf cried out, flinching backwards and clutching her arm where a newly forming welt was appearing.
"Treacherous snakes," another tauren hissed, his word coming up to strike Kat. Var'Jun was in between the guards and his friends suddenly, quick reactions to this occurred at once. The guards gaped in astonishment as the troll drew himself to full height, but this was only because he had defended the captives.
But a few trolls around the conflict were gaping for another reason. Without his royal robes of deep scarlet and violet velvet, without the crown that usually graced the heads of royal blood, without the council at his shoulders, and without the body guards that usually followed him Var'Jun was hardly the prince they knew. But drawn up, tall and regal with a murderous glint in his eye, the troll was recognized.
"Prince Var'Jun?" a few small voices asked, the trolls around gathering forward at the sight of their lost leader. Var'Jun closed his eyes, blocking out the sound of their pleading voices. Long ago he had sought to reject the throne, thinking that his mother would always be around to have it, But now he had outgrown his childhood and it was apparent that he could not just give up the throne to someone else.
At the mention of 'Prince' his companions looked at him with a new light. Kat looked rather betrayed, her eyes full of shock and mistrust as she slowly inched away from the troll. Malchior was seething, his thoughts racing. He could have been the one to kill the troll Prince and bring honor to his family, but he was denied this. Gwyn stared at the warrior questioningly and Yawna lifted her head from the ground, newly awakened and surprised.
"Prince?" One of the guards echoed.
Var'Jun nodded slowly, his eyes opening once more. He fished around in his pocket for a moment, a look of great regret crossed over his features. Finally he produced a large ring. It was heavy, a thick golden band decorated with designs of vines and thorns. It was crested with a huge deep green gem that was lined with white veins. He slipped it onto his left ring finger, a sad smile on his face.
"Of course," He said evenly, " Son of Meh'rah who was daughter of the celebrated Vol'jin. The last remaining heir to the throne of the Darkspear Tribe and the Prince who'll someday be King."
"Take them to Cairne." One of the people offered and it was met by a hearty agreement. They were guided at spear point to the second level of Thunderbluff where Yawna (still a bit dizzy) got her first glance of the leader who's name had been whispered over her cradle. Standing before her was Cairne, leader of all the Tauren.
The Tauren Chieftain looked up in surprise as the rag-tag group was lead to him. Var'Jun was still standing in front of the group, mostly concealing Kat and clutching his hand as if the royal ring pained him. Kat herself was still delicate, her arms flinching under a steady grasp that Malchior had put there. Gwyn was cradling her arm watching the guard that had struck her with narrow and angry eyes. Yawna was beside her, a dull and glazy look still left over from the mysterious effects of the Awareness.
"What's the meaning of this?" Cairne asked, taking a few confident steps forward. His leather and mail armor creaked and he made an impressive figure. Yawna bowed her head and began to speak before being interrupted by a guard.
"We welcomed these people into Thunderbluff under the pretense that they were taking captives. But then the tauren here collapsed and the captives were free. They defended her, trying to wake her up and we come to find out that this scrawny excuse for a troll is really the Lost Prince Var'Jun. Or so he claims, he has the Strangle Thorn Ring, but he might have stolen it."
"Stolen?" Var'Jun screeched, his tusks bobbing as he spouted in rage, "I am Var'Jun! I am Meh'rah's son. Ask any troll you see and they'll recognize me, though it might take a while. I'm travel stained, but not totally different." Weary Traveler took up his anger, snarling in agreement.
"Quite," Cairne thundered suddenly, his eyes fixed on Yawna, "I will take them into my tent to talk. But you must leave." He pointed to the guards and ignored their pleads. "I can handle myself, but I must talk with them in private. I expect to hear from you in about an hour or so." He nodded to the group, welcoming them in and smiling warmly.
Cairne's tent was furnished richly with pelts and cushy pillows to sit upon. There was a small fire heating it and scenting the area with hickory smoke. As the group took their seats Cairne motioned to a young female troll who was sitting to the side of the tent.
"This is Crota." Cairne motioned to the troll and she nodded, smiling at the group. She had long red hair that was tied messily at the back of her head. Wearing long leather robes and a clingy leather shirt she was a pretty troll. For a moment she seemed stunned, then gave a small cry of shock.
"Crota?" Var'Jun echoed with disbelief in his voice. A moment later the female troll had leaped across the room, almost tackling him to the ground. Her arms were flung around his neck and she pressed her face to his shocked one, a warm smile on her lips and sheer joy in her eyes.
Beside her Yawna felt Kat seethe. If it was possible she felt that the priestess might have burst into flames. Yawna watched the female human clench her fists and bar her teeth.
From Var'Jun she only got surprise and a slight recognizing of the troll Crota. He paused as she didn't let go, her soft voice whispering nonsense into his shoulder. When she finally realized that he was stiff and confused she looked up.
" You don't recognize me Var'Jun?" She demanded, tears welling up in her eyes. She clutched onto his tunic, her fingers closed on the cloth in a vice-like grip.
"I do Crota but…" Var'Jun faltered, breathing raggedly as if he were battling with something internally before hissing, "But you died."
"No, I lived!" She said, burying her head once again into Var'Jun's chest, "I lived and I searched for you but you had already gone." Var'Jun seemed to have nothing to say to this, his arms staying rigidly by his side. He cast a frantic look around, first one pleading Yawna and then something that was more apologetic to Kat.
"That's quite enough Crota." Cairne said firmly but not unkindly, "Let them take their seats and listen. I need to talk to them, for I fear the worst has happened."
The group took their seats. Kat sat as far away from Var'Jun as possible, the troll looking very melancholy as Crota sat down, practically on top of him. Yawna shook her head, watching Malchior take advantage of the situation and move closer to Kat.
"Now," Cairne began watching Yawna closely, "I want to know why you, young tauren, are wearing the horn band of Makar."
Yawna blinked as she heard her father's name mentioned. Cairne was watching her with an interest, as if he had known her father. But Yawna had never heard anything about her father being powerful or special, only from what her mother said of him as a loving husband and protective father.
"I am his daughter," Yawna replied, "The calf of Kiel and Makar." She felt his surprise in her Awareness, then a genuine interest of herself. Yawna practically blushed under the look of the powerful tauren leader. To even be spoken to by him was a great honor.
"Really," Cairne asked, a far away look reaching his eyes, " And how is your mother?"
"Dead." Yawna replied simply, as if she were talking about the weather. Cairne's jaw would have dropped if he were not so refined. He shook his head in surprise, sighing softly.
"Must have been in the recent burning," the leader commented softly, "My brother only recently sent me word, for only recently was anyone from that area able to walk here. I was not aware that Makar and Kiel had a child, though Two-Moons hinted on it once or twice."
"He's dead too," Yawna replied heavily, "Slaughtered by a new menace. I'm sure you know of Thralk? The shaman who leads the undead. He's hell bent on whipping everyone out. I'd mount extra defenses if I were you."
Cairne nodded, "I have already done so. I'm sorry for your losses, young tauren." He then turned to Var'Jun, his face now stern and reprimanding. "You know, you have caused a lot of trouble. Apparently Crota recognizes you as the real Lost Prince, but what right have you to disappear. Your mother was frantic, contacting my brother and I in search of you for two years now. She lost hope, and has now died a lost soul like you might have died a Lost Prince. How foolish of you."
Var'Jun bowed his head, staring at the floor. He said nothing in his own defense, instead choosing to remain awkwardly silent.
"She would have fought harder if you were guarantied alive," Cairne added salt to the wound before addressing Gwyn, "I feel badly at how my guards have treated you. Is there anything I can do to help?"
"Well," Gwyn started uncertainly, "There might be one thing. Could you get us straight flight paths to Ratchet?"
"Easily." Cairne said, smiling widely.
Not more than an hour later the group had been re-supplied and well stocked for anything that might be in their way, ready to go as soon as everything was packed. Spirits should have been high, but instead they were depressingly low and very tense. Crota had followed them, clinging onto Var'Jun all the way. Only Malchior was in a fair mood.
"You can't come Crota." Var'Jun repeated, looking away from the stare that gave him guilt. Crota was begged once more, clinging to his shirt in a child-like manner and watching him with a wet look.
"Why not Prince?" she demanded.
"Because," Var'Jun had reached patience end, "I can't be responsible for you. I won't have another life to be added to my responsibility and frankly Crota, I don't think I could stand being called Prince all day."
The group politely ignored their argument, though Yawna noticed that Kat couldn't help but look over every so often to see what was going on. She was in a vile mood, lashing out at those who spoke to her, especially Var'Jun.
"You will come back for me then," Crota put, "After your mission is secured. But believe me Prince, you will not be alone. I will be following you, whether in your sight or not." With that she pulled him down to her level, standing on her tip toes and meeting his lips with hers.
Kat dropped the dress she had been packing for herself, her fists clenched. Yawna felt a wave of jealousy originate from her and wash out over everything around. The priestess tightened her teeth and picked up the article of clothing, turning her back on the intertwined couple.
Var'Jun pulled away, his eyes blank. "Go back to Cairne." he commanded and when the female troll faltered and began to reply in her whining and conniving tone he adopted and angrier tone, "I am your Prince and that was an order. Cairne has use for you and I'm sure he'd be mad if I took you away. Now go!" Whether it was the fact that it was a royal order or that Var'Jun was actually acting like the Prince she wanted him to be she finally left.
When she was out of sight Var'Jun turned slowly to wall beside him and calmly began to knock his head on the wooden beam. Yawna would have laughed if the situation was funnier, but there was really no way it could have been any less funny than if Var'Jun had claimed Crota right there on the stable floor.
"I am going to check on the Wind Riders." Yawna stated simply, walking out of the hallway. She looked back, motioning at Gwyn and Malchior.
"I'll help you," Gwyn hefted some backs onto her pack, "There's a lot of stuff here."
When Malchior did nothing Yawna clenched his arm and wrenched him along. "C'mon Malchior. We need someone strong to help us."
Var'Jun cursed internally as the girls left him alone with Kat. She was furious, he could see that by the way she packed her clothes like a mad woman. Her breath could be heard hissing angrily across the room. He banged his head on the beam again.
"Oh stop beating yourself up," Kat dripped venom, "I'm sure she'll lay you later if you come back. You Don't have to worry, Prince."
"Damned broads." Var'Jun cursed Gwyn and Yawna again before approaching the priestess.
"Kat," He began softly, stepping beside her and handing her a package from her pile, "Crota and I were old friends, but I never had that kind of interest in her and-"
"Shut up," Kat said softly, then raised her voice, "Shut up. I really can't trust you at all, can I?" She looked up at him and he saw a fire burning in her eyes that he had not seen there before. She was so angry that he had to take a step backwards. With a sigh he handed her another light package.
She snarled, snatching it from him. "Those are my personal garments you jerk. Lecherous troll, you're always causing trouble."
"What?"
"You heard me. First you run off, looking for trouble. Then you come back and save me and just when I think you might actually plan on staying with us then you go and find her and now I suppose you'll leave again. Won't you?"
"No!" It was Var'Jun's turn to yell back, "I told her to go away, didn't I. That's not what I wanted, for her to kiss me, that's the last thing I wanted. I would rather have Malchior kiss me full on the mouth than that." Var'Jun made a face at the prospect, but continued, "Have a little more faith in me."
"How can I?" Kat demanded, "You just seem to change all the time. And I cant… I can't." She fumbled, her mouth unable to form the words she wanted to say. Finally she put, "I can't handle you leaving again."
The troll paused. He was the Prince of The Darkspear Tribe, and as soon as he married he would become King and his bride Queen. Their child would be the next ruler. Everything depended on him.
Without another thought the troll enveloped the human in a warm embrace. His arms circled her, leaving no room for escape. Kat was so startled that she once again dropped what she was packing, though this time she wasn't so angry. At first Var'Jun thought she might throw him off, but instead she brought her arms up around him.
For a few blissful moments the two were peaceful, warm in each other's arms and comfortable. Kat tilted her head up to Var'Jun, staring thoughtfully into his intense yellow eyes. She leaned closer unconsciously only to be interrupted by Malchior's voice.
"Are you ready yet, Katherine dear?" he demanded, his long voice trialing down the corridor.
The two separated swiftly, blushing and staring at their feet. Kat yelled that she was coming, trying to make up for time by packing her garments faster.
"Ahem." Var'Jun handed her another package, smiling saucily and starting to open it slowly, "Is this another package of your 'personal garments?' Really hope so because-"
"You lech!" Kat screeched, batting his head with a book she had been storing away and driving him off, "Next time I'm just going to let Malchior go full force on you!"
A few minutes later the party was seated atop the massive leonine Wind Riders, their scorpion tales curled over their backs. Var'Jun was sharing one with Kat, Gwyn with Yawna, and Malchior by himself. He had been offered the one with Kat first, but because of his heavy armor could only ride alone. It was to his great distaste, but he could only comply.
"I hope no one gets motion sickness," Yawna chuckled as se strapped Weary Traveler down to the back of their mount. "Ratchet is a long ride from here."
Yay! That was a pretty long chapter. Poor Kat and Var'Jun, they have such a complicated relationship. Hopefully I will soon do some fanart on them (maybe post it on the Warcraft site?) and then you can see what they really look like. And wow, maybe I actually did start the whole troll x human thing. I noticed one today that I hadn't before. Oh well, a good thing I suppose. You can never have enough romantically-inclined fan fiction.