Coveted
Tristee was not stupid.
Her sister Azerieh liked to roll her eyes and wag her fingers in her direction whenever she was in the presense of Krag, but Tristee would flip her fingers into a curved shape upon her forhead, making it clear she was not amused with her sister's strange type of teasing. Azerieh would smirk, having learned to love her sister for the way she was, rather than just tolerating her, and walk away, knowing she was right. Tristee hated that walk.
Krag rarely left his little hutch in Orgrimmar, preferring to be near the city where there were plenty of people to mess with. All of his herbs and potions were stacked to one side of the room, his simple cot on the other, more than capable of holding his healthy Orc body up.
Tristee's coven was located in a small section of Orgrimmar's cleft of Shadows, and it was here she spoke with Krag the most. He was a simple orc, preferring silence to speech, darkness to light, and loneliness to company. But he liked her. He let her blabber on about her day, smiling lightly beneath his dark hood. He allowed her to make suggestions for his potions, and even let her try to add some of her enchantments to them. He accompanied her through areas where there were stronger creatures that she couldn't quite take on by herself, without asking for anything in return. She was more than greatful for that, as sometimes she guiltily sent her Voidwalker out to meet an enemy and well... It didn't always end well.
Krag did not speak about many things, in fact he was mostly mute, save for an occasional grunt or pointing at something and gesturing what he wanted done with it. She never asked him why he didn't speak, she respected his silence. His work was meticulous, and she envied him that. Her patience was often thin, and she could hardly focus on any potion making, let alone inscripting tomes, or working with certain mats to create spellweave. Their coven often loved to purchase his wares, whatever they might be, ranging from potions, to tomes, to robes of fine silk.
But Tristee was often jealous.
Being in Orgrimmar, meant that there were a lot of Orcs. Normally, this would not bother her. But if she were being honest with herself...
She took a quick sidelong glance at Krag, who was busying himself with grinding some berries into a fine juice to use for one of his potions. He was rather young, his green skin unmarked, exposing his profession. His hair was ebony, and cropped and spiky, though it was often flattened by his hood. His turquoise eyes were always trained upon his work.
It was this that drew them in.
Many Orcs respected Krag. He was a well known hero from the Lich King's downfall. Tristee herself had witnessed as he and a select few heroes, including her sisters Xaedrienne and Crysanthemum, came out, triumphant from Ice Crown Citadel, a ray of hope shining through the death of the Lich King.
But none of them had talked about it. It was like it was too painful to discuss, and details had been avoided at all costs. Krag seemed to take it to the extreme, refusing to speak of the encounter to anyone. His mysteriousness paired with his heroic status made him all the more... desirable, for a life mate.
Tristee knew it was unreasonable, but she coveted the type of relationship he would inevitably have. A strong warrior Orcess would come forth, and stake a claim, and, should her reputation precede her, he would invite her to a hunt. Assuming the hunt, and the mating ritual that followed, went well, he and said woman would be bound together as life mates.
She could see the wandering eyes that were full of curiosity, impressed by his accomplishments, each willing to be asked to hunt.
But... he never did ask.
So for now, Tristee could breath easily.
...
Well, here's the next one! I hope you area all enjoying these, some are really difficult to write! Anyway, enjoy! This is My warlock babies, Tristee the goblin and Krag the Orc. :)