Of Loyalty and Kinship

Behind a curtain in the council hall, surrounded by the elder women of the Mag'har, Joanne stood naked with her arms crossed modestly over her breasts. At her left hip, Agunta sat on a stool and penned the outline of the tattoo she would wear representing her acceptance by the Redwalker Clan. Seated on her right, an elder named Ushka drew a matching image.

A few women sat in pairs here and there, chatting away over various busy work – mending clothing and carving various utensils. One of the younger ones whose knuckles were not yet swollen with age was fletching arrows. Geyah only told Joanne the topics of discussion; there were too many conversations going on to translate every word.

They reminisced about their own trials, some taken before the world broke apart. Each one resolved the trial in their own way, and so showed the Mag'har who they were. The women laughed and teased one another like old friends. Magu was not there; only members of the Redwalker Clan shared in this ritual.

And ritual it was, though casually performed. Incense burned, and Agunta's grandaughter quietly tapped a drum in the background of the elders' voices. Both women drawing the talbuks hummed and chanted in low voices as they worked.

A light breeze blew through the council hall, only somewhat blocked by the curtains. Joanne shivered and tried to endure in silence. Geyah had explained this step, and the one to follow. She was to bear the Mark of the Talbuk, as all Redwalker women did. The temporary ink they used to guide the needles in applying the permanent design was cold against her bare skin. She fixed an image of Fentulk in her mind; this was for him as much as for her. She hoped she could bear the pain as bravely as he had when the clefthoof was pricked into his flesh years ago.

Kashka and Geyah stood apart and conferred. "She needs to be told," Kashka said in an undertone. "My son will take her up. He'll ask her."

The Greatmother arched an eyebrow. "You will accept her as his mate?"

Sighing, Kashka replied, "I have to. I can't lose my boy again, Geyah. He'll choose her over me... over his people."

"That is as it should be," she said. "One must follow the path laid out for them. When we choose a mate, we embark on a new path. He will follow wherever it leads... wherever she leads." Placing a hand on Kashka's shoulder, she added, "See this woman with your heart, not your eyes. I don't believe she would lead him away from his people."

The warrior woman paused for a moment, then nodded. "It is much easier now. I didn't think I'd ever see..." Huffing with impatience, she said briskly, "They love each other. It would be wrong to stand between them. And she isn't... so bad."

Geyah nodded again, suppressing a smile. "Tell me what you want her to know, and I will speak your words."

Kashka and Geyah stood in front of Joanne as the application of needles began. For Joanne, it felt like insect bites on her flanks. The old women had done this uncountable times; they knew their business. They also saw no need to test the endurance of the woman, as the men often did with their process. Women would receive their test of pain when bearing a child; they needed no other. For this, a soothing salve was applied beforehand, and eased the discomfort by dulling sensations of pain in the skin.

"Kashka wishes me to speak with you of delicate matters," Geyah began, and Joanne swallowed. Her mother had informed her of relations between men and women, surprisingly revealed in gentle terms considering her own experience. Joanne was naïve about a lot of things, but the mechanics of coupling were known. Yet she remained still and attentive; Orc ways were likely... different.

"I am told Fentulk will take you to a floating island," the Greatmother continued, and Joanne nodded. "I will tell you what this means. Ever since the Sundering tore those chunks from the land and put them in the sky, and held them there, they have been a source of wonder and mystery to the Mag'har. Their presence is both a reminder of our past, and a symbol of our future. Just as the islands defy nature by staying where they are, as they are, so too do the Mag'har exist and thrive in defiance of all threats within and without that would attempt to destroy us. We hold to our sacred traditions. We remain true to ourselves.

"Our people consider the islands to be places of special significance, where important rites are performed. These rites are made more meaningful by the location in which they are done. Beginnings and continuations are generally chief among the rites of the islands."

"Beginnings?" Joanne asked, her voice slightly pained as the tattooing went on. Agunta was engaged in shading, and her diligent attention to one area threatened to overwhelm the effects of the salve. Joanne's eyelids twitched, and occasionally she sucked a gasp through her clenched teeth.

"The beginnings of relations, the beginnings of life," Geyah explained gently, "and the continuation of the Mag'har people. Fentulk wishes to bring you to one of the islands. There, he plans to ask you to be his mate. If you accept his suit, it is traditional to consummate your union on the island."

Pausing to let this information sink in, Geyah watched the woman's expression. At first she seemed pleased, likely by the intended proposal. Then her face clouded with worry and she chewed her lip. The Greatmother hastened to reassure her.

"You are not required to lie with him at that time," Geyah said. "I say it is traditional, and tell you this because it is known among our people. When a man takes a woman up, it is fairly well understood by all what it means. Kashka did not want you to be unprepared. If you do not yet feel... comfortable taking such a step, none will condemn you for wishing to wait."

"But I do not want to wait!" Joanne cried, then pressed her lips together, her cheeks flaring red. "Forgive me," she murmured meekly. Her eyes shifted between Geyah and Kashka almost in a panic. "I... I have... desire for him. I only... It is just that... I have not..."

Geyah smiled. "You have not known a man's touch, have you?"

Bowing her head with even greater embarrassment, Joanne said, "No, I have not."

"There is no shame in that," Geyah said mildly.

Drawing a shuddering breath, Joanne looked up at Geyah and told her, "Fentulk... has known a woman. His mother was terribly angry with him for it." She looked away again. "I confess, I was as well. Not because he had, but... because of... other reasons."

"What is past, is past," Geyah soothed. "There is only now and what is to come." A slight smile curved her mouth, exposing her worn tusks. "Your 'harsh words' with him, hmm?"

Blushing again, Joanne nodded. "It was foolish of me to worry..."

"No, it was not," Geyah interrupted firmly. "Your heart was troubled by his deed; you had every right to seek satisfaction. You needn't tell me the reasons for your anger. This was between you and Fentulk, and you have resolved the issue, I trust. It is past." Arching her brows and looking carefully at Joanne, she pressed, "Isn't it?"

Joanne's brow furrowed in thought. How to convey how she now felt? "I am not... angry with him for what he did. It was before we met; I had no claim upon him. What... bothers me, I suppose, is that... he... he has shared such a thing with... someone who..." Sighing with frustration, Joanne blurted out, "She knew how to please a man, and I do not."

Pursing her lips to hide her smile, Geyah asked, "Where is he now?"

Startled, Joanne replied, "Here in Garadar."

"And who is he with?"

Joanne blinked, unsure at first why the Greatmother was asking such questions. "With me, I suppose."

"There is more to pleasing a man than sharing his bed," Geyah said wryly. "You need only love him as you do at this moment to walk with him. Once your feet are upon the path, nothing will come between you."

At that moment, the sound of raised voices entering the council hall could be heard, and the elders all stopped their talk to listen. Kashka bristled; one of them was Fentulk.

"What has that boy gotten up to now?" she muttered furiously, and stormed past the curtains.

"What is happening?" Joanne asked nervously. Geyah immediately waved her to calmness.

"Don't worry," she said. "This is far more important than what is going on out there. Stay still, now." Turning to the elders, she continued in Orcish, "Ushka, Agunta – carry on. Leelos, keep playing. If I am needed, I will attend to the matter. Until then, I will remain."

"It sounds to me like you'll be called upon to settle it, Greatmother," Agunta commented. "There is murder in those voices."

"As long as it isn't in their hearts, all will be well," Geyah replied, furrowing her brow uncertainly.

Kashka stormed across the council hall to where guards restrained her son and an Orc Fentulk used to know as a friend, keeping them separated. Both looked as though blows had already been exchanged; blood seeped from split lips and darkened, swelling flesh surrounded their eyes.

"Alliance whore fucker!" Rugak roared, his muscles bunching as he strained against the men who held him. Fentulk was likewise difficult to control. He hadn't cared for foul names directed at Karie; even less when applied to Joanne.

"Don't call'er that or I'll have yer tongue!" Fentulk shot back.

"Whore! Harlot! Slut!" Rugak barked, and this time Fentulk launched himself over the guards' arms with a roar of fury and came close to reaching the other Orc.

"That is enough!" Kashka bellowed. Standing between them, she delivered a resounding smack to both their cheeks. "Look at yourselves!" she snarled. "You practically suckled the same teat, you were so close. Rugak, stand down. Fentulk, you as well."

Shooting a glowering look to each in turn, she snapped, "You have been apart for many years, and there was no quarrel at your parting. There is no reason for this!"

Rugak thrust an accusing finger toward Fentulk. "He lies with Alliance filth!" Kashka struck his hand down.

"The woman is not with the Alliance," she growled. "She has completed the trial and is Mag'har. The elders of the Redwalker Clan even now mark her as one of us."

"She passed?" Fentulk gasped, his attention completely removed from Rugak. He searched his mother's eyes for the truth of her words.

"Her... completion of the task was found satisfactory," Kashka replied evasively. Turning to glare at Rugak, she growled, "You will not challenge her claim or you will answer to me."

"How can yuh stand them?" Rugak hissed at Fentulk, disgust plain on his face. "After what they did!"

Fentulk narrowed his eyes as he looked at his old friend. There was anger there, but anguish as well. "Rugak," he said in a subdued tone, "what did they do?"

Shaking from head to toe from grief-stricken rage, Rugak couldn't speak for several moments. Gradually, his trembling slowed and he gasped for breath. It took several more minutes for him to calm enough to speak. "Muh-... my Grehka," he whispered in a faltering voice. Swallowing hard, he added, "And little Lariny."

"Who...," Fentulk asked cautiously, schooling his voice to remain steady as though he spoke to an easily roused animal, "who is Grehka?"

"My mate," Rugak replied. "Was."

The Orc's eyes held such pain, Fentulk nearly wept for him without knowing more than this much. He guessed that the hate was what kept the grief at bay. Perhaps it was easier to manage than the loss.

"I went to the Mok'nathal," Rugak said in a quiet voice. His eyes seemed to see far away. "Years ago. To negotiate trade, offer any help they might need. They're so far from us, and their village is so small..." A slight smile softened his expression. "I found Grehka there. We became one, and were joined. We had... had a daughter. Lariny."

Fentulk bowed his head. Please, he begged the ancestors, even knowing it was in vain, don't let him say it.

"Grehka took Lariny to the forest," Rugak said almost dreamily as he remembered. "Teaching her about herbs and things. We had no reason to think... no reason. They didn't... didn't come home. Hours and hours... then days. Couldn't find them... not for days." Turning pleading eyes on Fentulk – as though he stood in judgment over Rugak, as though Fentulk might declare he hadn't done enough – Rugak said, "We looked everywhere. The hunters and their beasts. We looked and looked and looked..."

Tears welled in Rugak's eyes and his face contorted. "We found them. On... on stakes in the ground. Just... just their... their heads. Never found... the rest."

"I got no words," Fentulk breathed, stricken. "I... I'm sorry."

"It was humans," Rugak hissed, his expression hardening. "The wolves picked up the scent and we tracked them down. Alliance bastards. One of them wore her trophy necklace. It had things she'd taken from kills. Teeth and claws and such. He wore it like... like it was a trophy he'd taken from her. We slaughtered the lot of'em." Hate boiled up in his gut once more, and he glared at Fentulk. "And you... You come home beddin' one'uh them. As if it means nothing. As if Grehka don't matter. Lariny don't matter." He spat at Fentulk's feet. "Demons take you, filth."

"Rugak," Fentulk said hoarsely, "your mate's death... your child's death... mean a great deal. But... it was not Joanne who slew them."

"She is human," Rugak snarled.

"Yeah, she is," Fentulk nodded. "I ain't denyin' it."

"How can you betray the Mag'har like this?" Rugak hissed. "How can you... how can you fuck one'uh them after what they did to my mate? My child?"

Fentulk shook his head. "I ain't betrayed nobody, least of all you. I'm sorry for what happened, but it wasn't Joanne. She didn't do nothin' to you or your family." He reached out and gripped his friend's shoulder. "She's human and we are Orcs. We are Mag'har. But... did we destroy Theramore, or was it only one of us? Did all of our hands together drop a bomb that murdered thousands of innocent humans, or was it only one of our people who did it? Should we all be punished for the deeds of one Orc? I never thought you was the kind to think that way, Rugak."

Rugak bowed his head, his shoulders shaking. "She was my light," he sobbed.

"Joanne is mine," Fentulk replied. "It don't matter to me what her race is. I only see Joanne. That's all that matters."

"My child," Rugak whispered.

Fentulk drew him close and embraced his friend. "I know." He felt the tension give a little in Rugak, then the Orc wept. It was likely the first time he had done so since the tragedy occurred. Looking to his mother, Fentulk asked, "How long's he been back?"

Kashka took a deep breath and forced herself to think. She hadn't known of this bomb he mentioned. It wasn't easy to forget it now, even for a moment. "A month, I think. He never spoke of it. He just... joined a hunting group and began doing his part for the village, like he used to. Never said a word to anyone." Shrugging helplessly, she went on, "His parents died of the pox a few years back, so... I suppose... he hasn't had anyone... Oh, Rugak," she breathed, and put her hand on his back. "You come along to the house, boy. You come and see us like you used to."

"I'm... sorry," Rugak grunted, withdrawing and rubbing his face. He hung his head, ashamed of his outburst.

"Yuh got nothin' to be sorry about," Fentulk said. "Yuh held it in too long, 's'all. Maybe... you come over and we'll do some fishin' with da. I, uh... I got some stories to tell. And I wanna hear yours."

"Hmph," Kashka snorted. "You'd best keep one of your 'stories' to yourself."

Glaring at his mother, Fentulk growled, "Yuh gonna let it go, or bring it up all the time?"

"I'll let you know," she snapped, then turned on her heel and marched back to the curtained area.

Fentulk glanced at Rugak and rolled his eyes dramatically now that his mother couldn't see him do it. A slight chuckle escaped his old friend.

"You, uh... you ain't changed all that much," he said quietly. Fentulk nodded.

"Yer still like a brother to me, Rugak," he said firmly. "That sure ain't gonna change no matter how much yuh hate me."

Rugak bowed his head. "I don't hate yuh, Fen. I just felt... sorta..." Sighing, he shook his head. "Just couldn't believe it of yuh, I guess. When we was lads, we used to talk 'bout fightin' the Alliance together. Cause they was always sendin' their folks out after our patrols and hunters. They made themselves our enemy when they came here. I guess I just thought... you was still that way."

"Not no more," Fentulk replied. "And it ain't cause of her. I worked a neutral ship in Azeroth. Got to see both sides, day in, day out." He shrugged. "There ain't no difference, really. All the same, no matter what they called themselves. Want the same things, afraid'uh the same shit."

"You think... you think I did wrong, then. Killin' those humans," Rugak growled challengingly. Fentulk shook his head.

"Anything happen to Joanne, I don't know what it would take for me to stop killin'," Fentulk said with grim certainty. "And I ain't one to go down that road without cause. You know that. Don't look for me to say you done wrong. Don't know as I'd do nothin' different. Hope I never find out."

"Is everything resolved?" Geyah asked as Kashka returned.

"Yes," the warrior replied huffily. "Men and their quiet ways. Never tell you what goes on in their heads. Keep it close and secret until it explodes out of them. Idiots." She shook her head. "They should deal with it in the open. Hiding their grief only makes it worse."

Geyah nodded, pressing her lips firmly together to appear agreeable. She'd always known Kashka to be the sort who behaved in exactly the same way as the men she accused. Her reason was usually that she had no reason to grieve. She called the twelve-year-long stint of tears and worry while Fentulk was on another world simply 'fretting'.

"Did you hear of this... bomb?" Kashka asked suddenly, and Geyah startled.

"You mean on Azeroth?" the Greatmother asked. At Kashka's nod, she sighed. "Yes. A few days past. The shaman who came soon after it fell told me of it. They were... well, furious. That a son of the Mag'har... but I suppose... Perhaps he is more like his father than even he thought."

"Hmph," Kashka grunted. "Not many on that world want to remember what a power-mad beast Grom Hellscream was. They only see the one moment when he wasn't."

"Let them have their memories of that moment, for it meant their redemption," Geyah admonished gently. "If Grom could have his moment, perhaps the son of Grom shall one day have his."

Shifting her attention, Geyah urged Kashka to see how the tattooing was going. Most of each image on the woman's flanks were complete. The design was mostly an outline, with some parts, particularly the throat and tail, shaded more densely. On a Mag'har woman's brown skin, the earthtones of the finished tattoo were not easily seen; on Joanne's cream-white skin, they were vibrant.

Though her skin was reddened by the pricking of the needles and tiny beads of blood welled up here and there, the effect was stunning.

"Was... was Fentulk... is everything all right?" Joanne asked when Kashka stood back to admire the women's handiwork. Geyah nodded.

"All is well," she replied. "Don't trouble yourself." The Greatmother fixed a mask of calm on her face, hoping the young woman wouldn't see her own worry over the harsh words roared about the council hall. It was truly a blessing that Joanne didn't understand their tongue just yet. Geyah rather hoped she would not recall those vile names and ask for their meanings later.

"Is it almost finished?" she asked timidly. A shiver ran through her. Though the needles were quite thin and not terribly painful, she'd been pricked by them for over an hour, she was naked in an open building with a constant breeze blowing through, and her body was aching from having to stand still the whole time. Aware of how she must sound, she quickly apologized. "Forgive me. I must seem like an impatient child."

"Not at all. It is quite an ordeal," Geyah laughed. "But yes, it is nearly done." She repeated her assessment in Orcish for the elders.

"Quite close," Agunta murmured. Ushka grunted agreement.

"The question, as always, is how closely will they match?" Geyah asked with a smile.

"Mine shall be the more graceful," Ushka muttered. "As always."

"And mine shall show strength," Agunta added. "As always."

"On this side will be the blessing of many children," Ushka noted.

"Their bravery will be found here," Agunta replied.

"Your work is perfect," Geyah praised. "As always."

Agunta straightened then, and rolled her shoulders and neck. Laying down her needle, she shook out her gnarled hands. "This is a task for younger eyes," she commented, but her expression was pleased. Fetching a cloth, she wetted it and dabbed at the fresh tattoo, soothing the hurts and cleaning away the guide lines and blood. Ushka soon finished her work and did the same.

"I must say, I almost prefer a paleskin for this work," Ushka said, tilting her head this way and that, admiring the image she'd wrought. "Every line is clearly seen."

"In which case, you must hope you haven't made a mistake," Agunta chuckled, wiping her hands on another cloth.

"They are finished now," Geyah told Joanne. With a sigh, the woman relaxed. She had to arch and stretch to see the images on her flanks.

"They are beautiful," she breathed, awestruck. "I almost wish everyone could see them! They are too lovely to hide."

Geyah laughed. "But you must. These are for you and your mate alone. When the time is right, you will see the marks of your mate with your own eyes, and see how they differ..."

"Yes," Joanne said absently, still looking over her own and comparing one side with the other. "I have seen Fentulk's. They are quite different from this..."

Furrowing her brow, Geyah said, "You have seen his tattoos?"

Joanne glanced up, a blush coloring her cheeks. Seeing the Greatmother's surprise, she hastened to say, "He was kept in the tower barely covered. It was not... He did not do anything immodest." Recalling what she saw in the Dwarf's tent, she ducked her head and muttered, "Not on purpose, anyway."

"Yes, well... as I'm sure has been conveyed to you, one way or another," Geyah explained, "Fentulk's family is rather... conservative in its views. Not all Mag'har hold the same beliefs. Neither do all Redwalker, for that matter. For you to have seen Fentulk's tattoos when there was no understanding between you... Well, take my advice: do not tell Kashka of it." The Greatmother's eyes twinkled with mirth. "She would be quite furious with him."

"I will keep it to myself, then," Joanne replied with a shy smile.

As Kashka helped Joanne into a loose shift, she spoke briefly with the Greatmother. Geyah nodded and addressed Joanne.

"Kashka wants you to know that while you recover from receiving these tattoos, she will help you make a traditional dress to wear when Fentulk takes you to the island," Geyah told her. "And she will begin teaching you our tongue."

"Tell her... tell her I am most grateful for everything she has done," Joanne replied sincerely. "And please thank Agunta and... Ushka. They have done beautiful work I shall wear with pride."

Geyah nodded and conveyed Joanne's words. As she did so, Joanne hugged herself and smiled. Once I know their words, I will know I am home, she thought happily.