Future XIII

The high ground. It's always better to have the high ground.

Lena stood on the bluff and gazed down at the herd of deer grazing in the hollow. She closed her good eye and stood in her darkness and listened. Her hooves were solid on the ground, supporting her. Her curves were returning and filling out the awkward leather armor that Thuleos had provided for her.

While his specialty was crafting rifles and other guns, Thuleos was also a fairly skilled bowyer, and had taught Lena how to make her own. His theory was that she would have to learn to adapt to having only one eye. Ammunition, he reasoned, was difficult to make and recover out in the wild, and he wasn't sure how long they would be away from the main settlement. They worked on their bows in silence, Thuleos showing, rather than telling, her how to form her weapon.

It still felt strange in her hand, she thought, as she gripped the handle, rolling her fingers around the leather that cushioned her palm from the wood. It was a fine weapon, Thuleos had declared, after many hours and days of work, holding it up in the sunlight to inspect it.

He had helped her with some of the more detailed work of arrows, but then sent her off alone into the nearby forest to hunt for their week's food.

It had been nearly two months since they had quietly left Shadow Watch, stealing away in the middle of the night, probably the first night's sleep the residents there had gotten since it happened. Lena still wasn't talking, but Thuleos knew better than to push it. She clearly didn't care that they had been gone so long.

She didn't. She knew without ever setting foot outside her home that the other draenei were peering at the house with wary eyes, distrusting, probably even angry. At her, at Kras, at the whole damn leadership of their community, for putting them at risk. But like everything else, from putting food into her body to the cleanliness of said body, Lena just didn't care.

She had needed to get away anyway. The house still smelled like Kras. When no one was around, when Nhadi had finally stopped her daily fussing, in the dark when Thuleos would stand watch at her door, she would slip into a closet full of his old clothes and sit on the floor, burying her scarred face into the soft materials and crying, stuffing the fabric into her mouth to muffle her sobs as she rocked back and forth in the small space, bumping her head against the wall. She could still smell him, still sense him, still roll over in the bed and expect to find him beside her. With every instance of him turning up gone, her heart dropped a little lower. She still dreamed about him, his strong arms holding her, the elemental pets he allowed her to keep, how he always kept his shield and a dagger beside the bed, that crazy grin that would spread across his face when they fought.

And when she would wake, jolting herself up in the bed, gasping for breath and realizing that he was never going to be there again, she would scream. They would come rushing in, fussing over her even more, making her cringe in humiliation and shame, forcing her deeper into the pain.

Her fingers tightened around the bow in her left hand as she lifted it. It spanned from just above her head to just below her knee when held at the proper height, perfectly curved and strung. She took a deep breath - finally able to do so - and rolled her shoulders back. Form, Thuleos had said, was just as important as aim. Her left elbow tightened, but remained fluid as she continued to adjust her posture with her eye closed. Her right hand brought up an arrow that she had fletched herself, one that took many hours and many do-overs and many frustrating moments of pursed lips and nearly abandoned efforts.

Nocking the arrow, she lifted the right elbow to be level with her ear, slowly making a circle in the air with it, rotating her shoulder in perfect archers form. The fingers of her right hand tugged at the corner of her mouth as she drew on the string. She finally opened her eye and stared blankly down the shaft of the arrow into a blur. Her depth perception would now and forever be broken.

Sighing, she relaxed her pose and watched the deer again. She picked out one that stood slightly away from the herd, grazing as if oblivious to their movements. She had wasted many arrows, broken many more, and just plain lost them as she practiced. Her vision was not getting better. Her good eye was not compensating for the lost one, and nor could it give her a better handle on spatial relations. Her aim was horrible, and any moving targets she was assigned usually got away as the first shot nearly always missed.

For the first time, Lena started to doubt this plan. She would never be able to be a marksman. How could she exact revenge now? With no magic, and clearly no aim, was she just destined to be broken forever?

A nauseous wave of guilt rolled over her, nearly buckling her knees. No, she decided. She would figure this out, too. She had to.

She lifted the bow and drew back on the string again, this time focusing hard on the deer away from the herd. The arrow flew and impaled itself in the animal's rump, and she swore she could hear it squeal from her bluff as it began a panicked limping toward, and then away from, and then once again lurching towards the scattering herd.

Her heart seized as she identified with the animal for a brief, flashing moment. But she composed herself and lowered the bow, pulling a dagger and marching slowly toward the flailing form to finish the job.

She had to.

Future XII

Stormwind Keep, for thousands of years, had been built into the side of the mountains of the Elwynn Forest region of the Eastern Kingdoms. The decaying fortress had been refurbished and rebuilt a number of times after razing by numerous Alliance enemies as well as general wear and tear continued to eat away at the center of the human city.

The humans were nothing if not tenacious.

Bekkami glared with dark eyes through the tree limbs. She was a climber, preferred the high ground, and was currently perched on a limb overlooking the Stormwind cemetery, where the long line of human nobility was buried, off of Cathedral Square. Peering at the wall that surrounded the Keep, she spat, barely hearing the startled protest from the ground.

Bekka was a well-muscled, but nimble, twenty-five year old tracker. Her blonde hair was always pulled back into a ponytail at the nape of her neck, keeping it out of her face. She was dressed in dark leather so soft that it barely made a sound as she crept along the bough. Courtesy of her brother Streig, she snorted softly to herself as she remembered doubting that such a thing would exist. His handiwork always put all the other leatherworkers in Azeroth to shame. She had, when she first started tracking at age twelve, been subject to such outfits, but as she progressed in her training and expertise, Streig had provided her with proper leathers. She remembered the wicked gleam in his eye when he handed over her first set when she was sixteen. All of her brothers – and there were seven of them – clapped her on the back and cackled in approval. She would do well, they said to each other. She would be an expert thief and close-combat expert. Maybe even an assassin some day. Bekka grinned with pride before scurrying off to put on her new outfit.

Her family was nothing if not ruthless.

Bekka leaned back against the trunk of the tree, straddling the limb and scratching at the bark with her dagger. Her expression was dark, brooding. It had been several weeks since the, the… draenei – she spat again – dared to set foot in their territory. For ages, the families involved in the Underground were warned of Krastos, the shaman who had dared to leave the organization back in the old days, a few thousand years before. Bekka had grown up believing it was a fairy tale, something youngsters were told to discourage disloyalty. From the stories, she had imagined him a monster with a terrible countenance, but weak with age, easily frightened and intimidated.

She growled softly as she remembered actually meeting him, tracing the tip of her dagger along the back of her hand, along the scar that he gave her, one of several that she was usually able to hide by her combat gear. Her brothers and friends, now the core of the Underground operations, had ambushed the pair – Krastos and his… mate, they had assumed – as they traveled idly through the Eastern Kingdoms.

The pair of draenei fought hard, Krastos more accustomed to hand to hand combat than the spellcaster, who was fairly easily disabled while they attempted to subdue the shaman. But the humans hadn’t gotten off that easily – the mate had had time to scorch all of them with fire spells, disorienting them momentarily with icy flashes and strange arcane magics, until one of Bekkami’s brothers snuck up behind her and slid a dagger with a binding poison on the tip into her side, making her crumple to the ground. Bekka crinkled her nose at the smell of burnt leather and hair, shaking out her pony tail, loosening the icy tendrils of hair that curled around her neck.

It had been a long time since shamans had been the norm in this region of Azeroth. It was still a practice held dear by some of the dwarves, but the humans had never gotten into it. So when Krastos let loose with the power of the elements, Bekka wasn’t exactly prepared. He summoned elementals made of fire and stone to fight by his side, and Bekka paused to gape at them just long enough for the draenei to get the upper hand, knocking her back with a crackle of lightning that shook the ground and bowled over the humans. The elementals scattered her brothers, pounding the ground at their feet, chasing them away from the epicenter of the battle, and Krastos narrowed his strangely glowing eyes at Bekka.

Her daggers nearly slipped from her fingers as Krastos bellowed in his queer native tongue, raising his lightning-fisted hands in the air and calling on the power of the storm growing overhead. Thunder rumbled in the near distance, and Bekka stood stock still, frozen at the sight. Krastos called the elementals back to his side, and lifted a single finger in her direction, giving her a deadly look, setting them loose on her while he turned away and tended to his wounded mate, picking her up and cradling her in his arms, whispering softly to her.

Bekka gasped and turned tail, ducking into the shadows of the forest and scrambling up into a tree, the elementals close behind, beating on the trunk of the tree and threatening to set it on fire. She clung to the limb she was precariously perched upon and squeezed her eyes tight as she heard her brothers return and reengage the draenei.

Her brothers eventually overpowered and bound the pair of draenei, knocking them unconscious and, using all their strength, dragged them to the nearby farm, paying off the destitute landowner for the use of his wagon and best – which wasn’t saying much – horse. The troupe made their way slowly back toward the city in silence, eyeing the alien draenei apprehensively, as if the creatures would spring back to life at any second.

Bekka narrowed her eyes at the Keep once more, snorting to herself. If the King in power had any idea who really ran this city, she thought. They were puppets, and had been for as long as humans had been on this planet. The Underground ran everything in the Eastern Kingdoms. Their power knew no end, their sticky fingers were in everything.

True, society had fairly crumbled around them, and for the most part, the entirety of the human race lived in destitution – even the so-called King – but it was no matter. It would come back around.

The humans were nothing if not tenacious.

Future XI

Eladea stretched out beside the campfire, listening to the other elves speaking softly in their native tongue.  She found herself grooming again, and if a panther could blush, she would be.  But she quickly shook it off, knowing the others didn’t mind, and actually expected it of her at this point.  Her tail thumped on the ground as she resumed her ministrations.  Lick, lick, lick, purr, rub ears.  Repeat.

The elves whispered among themselves, and Ela wondered about things as she groomed.  She, like everyone at Shadow Watch, was concerned about Lena.  She still wasn’t talking, barely eating, barely moving.  They still had no idea what had happened.

Ela often crawled into the bushes late at night, watching the hunter standing guard.  She took it upon herself to approach and wake him when he seemed to start dozing off, sliding out of the underbrush and nosing at his knee.  She wondered, though, when the last time he had gotten a full night’s sleep.  It had been several weeks since Lena was back.  During the day, Nhadi would take over duties, and the others would rotate in as necessary, but Thuleos was her sole guardian at night.  Nhadi would often shoo him away, ordering him to get a few hours of rest, at least, and sometimes, Ela would see him ambling in the direction of his home.

Something about the way Lena often screamed at night made them all nervous, wary of her, but Thuleos seemed to take it in stride, weathering most of her thrashing as he would try to calm her before Nhadi would arrive with her teas.  It was duty, Ela thought, that kept Thuleos up all night.  She didn’t know much about the hunter, but she knew he was Krastos’s kin, and didn’t seem to have other family.  In the old days, when they were part of the Sha’nash, she recalled him being youthful and bombastic and sometimes overly charged.  But he was a serious marksman, and always focused when on the battlefield.  Perhaps that was what made it hard to see him now, notably aged, and much more subdued than before.  Was it time alone, or the recent grief? 

The others didn’t notice, but a soft noise from the direction of the mage’s home drew her attention.  Ela glanced at the elves and found them deep in conversation, not likely to miss her.  Shadowmelding into the dark of night, Ela crept toward the house.  Lena was awake, and standing on her own, outside the door, holding Thuleos’s rifle.  Eladea’s eyes widened as she drew closer, unsure of what was about to happen.  Had Lena snapped?  Was she going to try to hurt herself?  Or Thuleos?  Though she was undetectable, she crouched behind a large bush, peering through the leaves at their exchange.  He finally stood and wrapped an arm around her, guiding her back into the house.

The druid sat still, apprehensively watching the house for hours until Thuleos finally reemerged.  She followed him at a distance, suddenly realizing that he was headed toward the vaults of storage for Shadow Watch.  Where was he going?  Still stealthed, she quickly leapt into the room before getting her tail shut in the door, and she watched him gathering supplies.

As he stuffed items into bags, she realized – he was taking Lena somewhere.  The armor he had packed was far too small for him… but it would probably fit well enough on Lena’s emaciated frame.  And the rifle.  What on Azeroth was going on?

When he finally crept out of the vaults, she followed, lest she get locked in, and sat in the dark at the turn of the road, watching them go.  She glanced back toward the settlement, then north toward the pair of retreating talbuks.

She paced nervously as they faded from view, even as the sun rose.  She should have followed, she admonished herself. But she had to tell someone.  But they would only force Lena back to her home.  The pair had headed north, which bothered her.  Not toward the dock for a boat, not even attempting to leave the isles.

Suddenly, it dawned on her:  Thuleos was going to train her.  She had no more magic with which to fight, so he, or she, or they both together decided that she needed a way to fight.

But surely they wouldn’t take on the Underground alone…

Would they?

Burnt

She was so tired.

Lena loved magic, and was always eager for it, eager to display her skills and talents. But in combination with her temper, it sometimes left her too drained to move. It wasn’t often that she and Krastos fought, but in confrontations like this one, she usually burnt herself out – literally and figuratively. She had collapsed into Krastos when he released her from the block of ice and eventually let him pick her up, lifting her onto his talbuk and leading them home. She could barely stay upright. Her robes were soaked through, and she was shivering violently. His large hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her down from the saddle, shifting her in his arms as he carried her inside and up the narrow stairs of their home. He laid her on the bed and pulled a blanket over her, pushing her wet hair back from her forehead as she watched him blankly.

Lena heard him go back downstairs and fumble in the kitchen, not even caring that he was rooting around in her perfectly arranged dishes and flatware. She lay under the blanket, still shivering, eyes barely open and unfocused on the ceiling. Barely able to put thoughts together, she still felt an overwhelming guilt for having lashed out at him that way, and even more prominent worry over what his revelations meant to them now. When he reappeared at her side with a steaming bowl, she rolled away from him and shut her eyes tight.

She woke, much later, the sky outside the window rapidly darkening as night fell. She heard a whooshing sound and a soft clatter behind her. When she rolled over, she gasped at the small fire elemental standing guard over a still warm bowl of broth on the nightstand. It chattered at her in an unknown language and wiggled toward the spoon that was sitting beside it. Kras had to have summoned it, she thought and sat up slightly, grimacing at her still damp robes, singed at the edges. She was still so tired. Her head felt fuzzy and heavy. She sighed and shook her head. Of course he didn’t think to put her in something dry. Now she would have to sleep on a damp bed all night. The elemental chattered again and nudged the spoon at her, the resumed patrol of the bowl.

 

The soup was still warm, and she smiled at the elemental as she warmed her hands on the bowl. It whooshed and chattered, bouncing slightly on the nightstand, seeming to watch her every move as she started to sip at it. Lifting an eyebrow, she wondered if Kras had left it to keep watch on her.

She peered around the bedroom as she sipped the broth, nearly dropping the spoon when she saw it. She tipped her head at the attentive elemental, then looked in the direction of the corner. It skittered across the room eagerly and bounced on the floor nearby, illuminating the corner. There was a dress form, which hadn’t been there before, and draped perfectly on it was the most beautiful dress… It looked much like the one she had lusted over in a shop in the trade district for weeks. She always thought it was a bit too pricey, and she rarely had an opportunity to wear such a thing. Fighting her exhaustion, she struggled out of the bed and made her way across the room, reaching out to finger the deep red satin. It was low cut, but not indecent. The bodice laced in a mock corset on the front and back, with black satiny ribbon, and the skit fell simply to the floor. She had tried on a similar one a few weeks before at the shop. Modest sleeves fell to her fingertips, edged in delicate, but not overly frilly, black lace. This one was much richer, much more sumptuous, than the one in the shop, and she wondered how he had had it made so quickly. She dropped her eyes to the floor. It must have been so expensive.

She peeled away the damp robes that served as her armor, kicking them away with a hoof and drying her skin and hair with a towel from the linen closet. Her hands shook as she carefully removed the dress from the form, slipping it over her head. It fit perfectly, she marveled, and smoothed the fabric along her torso, eyeing herself in the mirror. Behind her, Krastos stood in the doorway, eyes shining and smiling. He approached as she ducked her head shyly, silently pulling the corseted back taut and lacing her up. He lifted her hair from the back of her neck and kissed her shoulder, wrapping his arms around her tentatively, resting his cheek against her head. She tensed slightly, not sure if she should forgive him.

“I know you’re still upset at me, Lena,” he started. She pursed her lips and sighed. She was still upset. She opened her mouth to say something smart, but stopped herself. He knew why she was upset. He knew now the risks he was taking. Did she have to live with that fact? She raised her eyes to the mirror and watched him watching her. She looked deeply into the reflection of his eyes and searched, knowing all they had been through together, thousands of years of all sorts of creatures coming after them, being broken and starving and lost in the universe. The draenei had survived so much, she thought. She closed her eyes and stayed silent.

When she opened them again, he was still watching her nervously. His arms around her grew tighter, as if he was afraid to let go, afraid she would run again. Her body relaxed against him and she turned her head, burying her face in his neck.

If they had survived all these millennia, surely this challenge would be no worse than the rest.

 

Burn

Just gonna stand there and watch me burn

But that’s alright because I like the way it hurts

Just gonna stand there and hear me cry

But that’s alright because I love the way you lie

I love the way you lie

Her eyes were furious as she lifted her staff, slamming it into the ground and a wave of flames and arcane energy advanced toward him.

–

Lena had wrestled out of his grip, hooves clomping down the stairs, throwing on her armor, grabbing her staff and daggers and untying Pryt from the porch with trembling fingers.  Mounting up, she nudged the animal and he shot forward, narrowly ducking and twisting around the residents of Stormwind as they fled the city, her cloak flying behind her.  She leaned forward in the saddle, laying low against the talbuk’s neck as he charged forward, through Elwynn Forest, through the pit of sin that was Goldshire, past the logging camps, and into the Redridge Mountains.  The air was suddenly dry, the soil soft and loose and dusty, and she pulled up on Pryt’s reins, slowing his frantic gallop to an easy, more relaxed run.

Krastos had promised.  He had vowed that he had stopped working with the Underground.  He swore he wouldn’t put her in danger any more.  The trunk full of treasures and gold that was supposed to last them through the tough times, she knew, he had acquired it through the work he did with them.  But he promised he was done with that life.  He worked for Shadows of Argus now.  There was too much at stake now that they were starting a new order, now that they were on their own out there.  She rubbed at her face, swiping angrily at the tears that came despite her fury.  They were watching her now.  They were following him.  They were taking stock of what they could take back from him.  He had earned all that, and they wanted to take it away.

She had been brushing her hair, smoothing it out after their day-long session in the bed, at the dresser when he came up behind her with a pained look.  He wrapped his arms around her naked body and pulled her against him, nuzzling at her neck apologetically.  She looked at his reflection in the mirror, eyebrows furrowed, face falling as he began talking.  Once you’re in, you can’t leave, Lena.  He had said.  It’s not that simple.  She turned around and glared at him directly, “What do you mean it isn’t that simple?  Just walk away, Kras!”  He had sighed and pressed his forehead against hers, arms tight around her back, “I have, Lena.  I walked away a long time ago.  But they’ll always be watching.  They’ll always be following me.  I know too much.  They’ll always be trying to get me back or kill me.”  He let the last statement hang between them as it sunk in.

Lena growled and wriggled away from him, pushing him away, and slapping him across the face, cursing him out in Draenic.  ”How can you do this to me?  How can you tell me this?  Kras, didn’t you think before you signed on with them in the first place?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Lena!”  He took a step toward her.  ”Do you remember what it was like when we landed here?  We had no home, we had no food, no shelter, no way to know what was good or bad about this planet.  I had to provide for you, Lena, for my people.  They offered money – a lot of it – for basic tasks.  Sure, eventually, I was doing less than savory things, but it had a purpose, Lena!”  His voice was growing louder as he got closer, but she kept shaking her head and backing away.  He finally caught her, grabbing her arms and pressing her up against the wall.  She struggled and ducked away from him, making her escape.  ”LENA!” he bellowed as she fled.

Maybe our relationship isn’t as crazy as it seems

Maybe that’s what happens when a tornado meets a volcano

 

Kras smashed his head against the wall, punching it, barely feeling the pain.  He’d fucked up.  He dressed quickly, grabbing his shields and finding his own talbuk ready to ride outside.  He closed his eyes for a moment, sensing her, trying to see where she might have gone.  He called on the ancestors to give him a lead.  After a moment he nodded to himself, mounted up, and headed out of the city.

Coming through the pass in Redridge, he saw Pryt’s frantic hoofprints.  They seemed to slow in the sandy soil by the lake, but continued on.  He thought he saw a glimpse of her telltale red armor shimmering in the sun up ahead and nudged his talbuk to catch up with her.  When he was in earshot, she popped off a curse over her shoulder, and nudged Pryt back into a run.  ”Lena!” he called, spurring his own mount into a gallop, “Come home.  You’re going to wear out that damn talbuk!”

Suddenly, she pulled up on Pryt, swinging down from the saddle.  Even from a distance, he could see the anger on her face.  He saw her mouth moving as she raised the staff and slammed it against the ground.  His talbuk reared at the wave of crackling arcane energy and fire rolling toward them, tossing Krastos to the ground and bolting.  So that’s how we fight this out, then, Kras thought, scrambling to his hooves when the air returned to his lungs.  So be it.  He lifted his shield to protect his face from the oncoming magic as he prepared himself.

 

Krastos summoned and threw a grounding totem as far as he could, hoping it would land in her range and slow her spells.  He knew how dangerous she could get when her temper was out of control.  She scowled at him, and he saw her mouth moving as she chanted the incantations that would volley her power at him.  She let loose with a series of quick fireballs, which he deflected easily with the shield, calling on the nearby lake to rise up and dampen any fires that she might cause on the dried, dead earth.  He glanced up at the skies, just a few moments sunny with few clouds, now darkening with a storm.  He had asked the skies to assist in balancing her, helping to calm her or deflect her enough so that he could communicate with her.  Now, he called for lightning and directed it from the sky, to his fingers, toward her, where he wrapped her in it, not intending to hurt her, but to slow her even more.  The crackling energy pinned her arms to her sides and he pulled her towards him.  As she got close, she let loose with close range spells that didn’t require channeling.  Her mind lay down a circle of fire around them and she threw her head back and laughed wickedly, a cone of fire seeming to emit from her throat at his face.  She had set both of them on fire.  Her robes were starting to burn, and he smelled the unpleasant stench of burning hair.  He gasped and glanced up at the skies, quietly asking for rain to heal the scorch marks she was leaving in her wake.

The winds picked up as the storm sensed Lena’s unrest and Kras’s desperate attempts to calm her.  Clouds opened up and rain began pouring down, the lake churning dangerously, waves lapping angrily at the shore in the wind.  Lightning struck the earth nearby, breaking both their concentrations as it knocked them to the ground.  Lena was freed from her lightning stasis and started winding up for another devastating fire spell, struggling to her hooves as she pushed Kras away.  He called upon the wind, feeling it surround him, watching her quietly as it interrupted her cast.  She howled in frustration, stomping a hoof and trying to start over.  Kras frowned as he let go of a lava burst of his own, a fireball that interrupted her once again, praying it wouldn’t injure her too badly.  She was more than frustrated now, and he knew he risked her very life if he pushed her over the edge now.  He hated to do it, but he cast an ice block, freezing her in place, keeping her from casting for the third time in a row.  The storm raged around them as he looked at her sadly.  He pressed his hands against the ice and searched for her eyes.  ”I’m sorry, Lena.”  He whispered, knowing she couldn’t hear him, hoping that she could read his lips.  The anger in her eyes lessened as she was contained by the ice, immobilized.

When he felt her anger receding, he asked that the ice return to water, watching it splash to the ground, and Lena with it.  She gasped for breath, soaked to the skin from the rain and the ice, and cried as he knelt beside her, gathering her in his arms.  ”I’m sorry, Lena,” he said again, whispering it in her ear this time as he stroked her sopping hair.  ”You are my life, and I am so sorry that I have ever put you in danger.”  She continued to cry, defeated.

They sat there in the mud, listening to the storm continue to rage overhead, feeling the rain washing them clean.

Going

Lena grinned and nipped at Kras’s earlobe, slowly extricating herself from his lap, tucking the letters back into the trunk and standing between his knees.  She draped her arms around his neck, knowing that her bare breasts hung right before his face as she kissed his forehead reverently.  Her hands massaged their way down along his arms and she grabbed his hands, sliding one behind her and placing it squarely on her bare ass.  The other, she tugged down, pressing his fingers between her legs, letting him feel how wet she was already.  Her legs automatically spread for him while she eagerly pushed his fingers against herself.  Letting out a breathy moan, she rocked her hips forward, looking down at him sitting on the bed, holding her between his hands.  She smiled and lowered her forehead to his, spreading her knees wider, pushing out against his thighs to steady herself.  His fingers started moving against her and she groaned, “We can get breakfast later, no?”

 Lena squealed and smiled lazily as he picked her up rather effortlessly and laid her back on the bed, happy to reclaim it as theirs.  She purred up at him as his fingers worked, arching her back and eagerly lifting her hips to her shaman.  She loved the feel of his weight on her, pushing her into the bed, holding her still, and she moaned when he slid down along her body, kissing the insides of her thighs as he spread them further apart.  Her shaman was always so good to her, she thought, as his tongue danced along her clit, holding her hips still as she trembled.  One hand gripped the blankets tightly in a fist as the other snuck up and massaged her breast, kneading it roughly and pulling at the nipple.  Her head rolled back as his tongue pushed inside her briefly, then moaned when he went back to biting gently at her clit.

It had been so long since she felt him.  All other thoughts of those pursuing her affections fell away as he continued playing with her.  As his teeth closed gently around her clit again, he suddenly pushed two of his large fingers inside her and she yelped, nearly sitting up, panting as she held herself back.  She knew he’d never let her cum like that.  She had to wait.  She had to beg permission.  And even then, it was only when he wanted it.  He would keep pushing, though.  And he did.  His fingers pushed deeper inside her, curling against her as she tightened around them.  She felt him grinning against her thighs as he kissed them, then rested his chin on lower belly and watched her.  She lifted her head slightly and gazed at him, whimpering softly.  Yes, Master.  She is yours.

Lena grabbed for his shoulders, eagerly pulling him down on top of her again, lifting her hips to meet him.  She groaned into his shoulder as his cock sunk deep into her, then lifted her arms above her head and smiled wickedly up at him.  Her fingers brushed the chains kept discreetly along the headboard.  She had installed them herself, after much cursing at the wood bedframe and wondering if it would actually hold up to their marathon sessions.  She nearly purred as she tightened around him, remembering his eyes light up when he found the cuffs attached to the ends of the chains.

He reached up and instead wrapped his large hands around her wrists and held her there.  She grinned and squirmed in his grasp, testing his grip and pushing her hips tighter against him, nipping at his tendrils.  He pushed back against her with a satisfied grunt, resting his full weight on her.

She smiled innocently while her hips rocked against him, wide eyes staring into his, “Belongs to Master…”

Lena groaned and felt her body tighten as his gruff command rumbled in her ear.  She could only come for him, and only when he commanded.  He owned her, controlled her orgasms, took great pleasure in making her squirm only to leave her breathless and whining.  But today, he needed her, needed to feel her enjoying him.

He had been gone so long this time.  She whimpered and looked up at her Master with wide eyes, squirming under him.  She lifted her knees and pushed her hips up to meet him.  When his hands tightened around her wrists she let go, her cunt spasming around his cock and burying her head in his shoulder as she let out a loud groan.  ”Only…” she panted, “Only comes for Master…”

Lena nipped at his neck as he came inside her, purring and smiling wickedly up at him.  She loved how he felt inside her, the way his body gave in to hers.  She rocked her hips up against him gently, flexing around him, and listened to him groan.

As they both relaxed, she rubbed her cheek against his chest and he kissed her.  She yawned languidly and stretched under him, suddenly drowsy again.  She was safe in his arms, his weight keeping her secure under him, in their bed, in their home.  She wriggled her wrists from his hands and wrapped her arms around him, tugging at the long ponytail of dark hair trailing along his back.  Rolling out from under him and laying on her side next to him, she draped a leg over his.  ”Must we get up today, Master?” She pouted playfully and wiggled close, pressing herself against him and tugging a blanket up over them.  His large hand came to rest on her waist and he laughed softly, “Well, we do have to get this house in order, Lena.”

Her pout grew deeper, and she tipped her head as he quirked an eyebrow as if he had an idea.  He traced a finger up along her figure and tugged at her collar gently before kissing her forehead and glancing furtively at the window.  Looking back at her with an evil sparkle in his eye, he grinned, “And maybe I should watch you do it… naked.”

Lena blushed and ducked her head shyly at the memory.  Her Master had her completely under his thumb, and she loved every moment of it, even when it was risky.  She knew he wouldn’t put her in harm’s way, or risk her modesty or position with the order or the larger community.  That’s what allowed her to take those risks with him.   She smiled and rubbed her forehead along his chest, her hands wandering along his scarred blue skin.  They were so small against his broad chest, she thought, as she watched her fingers.  He chuckled again at her reaction and wrapped his arms tight around her, gathering her up in one of those smothering bear hugs that she loved.

She glanced back at the windows and pouted slightly, “But, Master… I haven’t even gotten the curtains up.  Surely, you don’t want to share a naked pet with the rest of the city.”

Kras smiled into her hair and lifted her chin for a kiss.  ”Of course not,” he rumbled possessively, a thick finger tracing a line down her body.  He gripped her bottom and pulled her hips closer, rocking against her teasingly, “So let’s do that first.  That’s what you can wear the apron for.”

Lena smirked and crawled out of the bed when he let her go, digging for a robe and fingering the curtains she had left by the dresser.  He watched, stretched out on the bed, lifting his hands behind his head with a teasing grin.  He had already drilled the holes and put up the curtain rod, so she climbed up onto the trunk and fussed over perfectly draping the fabric, her robe hanging open a bit.

“Good.  Now lose the robe,” he said sternly when she stepped down.  He loved making her blush, he thought, as she slid the silk from her shoulders and revealed the blue flush in her skin.  He let out a pleased, silent sigh at the sight of his pet.  ”Have you unpacked all the clothes and upstairs things?”  His voice took on a commanding tone, and she melded seamlessly into his obedient pet.  He smiled to himself and sat up against the headboard, watching her.  Lena shook her head slightly, eyes on the foot of the bed, hooking her fingers together in front of her body, anxious to cover herself, but more anxious to please him.  ”Go get a box and unpack it for me, pet.”  She scurried from the bedroom and returned, dragging a large bin along the floor.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he commanded her to her knees, smirking as she dropped like a shot, her thighs spread, wrists resting inside up on them, the customary position for when he asked her to present.  He stood and nudged the bin out of the way, coaxing her thighs even further apart and stroked her hair.  She made a soft purring sound and rubbed her head against his hand ever so slightly, but he suddenly gripped her hair and pulled her head back, gazing down into her surprised face.  ”None of that, pet.  We have things to do today.”  She nodded slightly, then her forehead crinkled as his grip tightened on her hair.  He leaned down, pressing his lips against her forehead and murmured, “I say, you do.  That’s how this works today.”  He waited for her nod, but gave a pleased smile when she didn’t react.  Repressing the natural urge to react to stimuli and general social contracts like nodding, smiling, and speaking, was something they had been working on for a long time.  It was often frustrating for her, but he was always so proud when she remembered.He sat back down on the bed, leaning back on the headboard.  Piece by piece, he had her pull out objects from bin after box after bag and present them to him, then directing her every move and each item’s location in their home.  After a couple of hours, she was flushed and clearly tiring from the constant up and down, scampering to put away every single belonging, one thing at a time.  He patted the bed beside him, calling to her to climb up next to him and present.  She scrambled up onto the mattress and knelt beside him, knees spread, the backs of her hands resting on her thighs.  Her head was down and she was clearly trying to focus on her breathing.  His eyes were locked on her breasts and he reached out his hand, resting his palm on her belly, smiling wickedly at her.  ”Such a good pet I have,” he said, and slid the hand down between her legs.  She visibly relaxed, but made no reaction.  He pressed his fingers against her, just barely pushing inside, feeling her tremble slightly.  ”Look at me, pet,” he commanded.  She had a habit of avoiding his eyes, which in many cases was appropriate.  But today, he wanted to see her.  She lifted her eyes slightly and peered at him timidly as his fingers teased her.

“I wonder what we should do next…”

Lena waited patiently, keeping her eyes on his and staying quiet, acutely aware of his hands on her and trying not to squirm.  She dared not move until he asked her to.  Suddenly, his hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her bodily into his lap where he cradled her close and kissed along her neck.

Kras loved holding her in his lap like this, his beautiful little pet curled up against his chest, letting herself relax into him and giving him permission to have power over her.  She was strong on the battlefield and in front of the order, purposeful in her studies, dedicated to the causes of the Alliance, but here in his lap, she let herself be helpless, letting him be fiercely protective, showing him what she couldn’t show anyone else.  They were off duty for a few days, at least, and he had plans.

He nuzzled her hair and gave her a squeeze.  ”My sweet little pet,” he breathed in her ear and felt her shiver.  His hand was kneading along her thighs and he smiled faintly.  He shifted again, laying her on the bed on her stomach.  She was relaxed enough to let him do what he wished with her body with minimal resistance.  She looked up at him questioningly as he got up and opened his trunk again, looking for something.  ”Put your head down, pet,” he rumbled sternly.  Her head hit the pillow and he smiled while he pulled something from a hidden compartment in the trunk and laid it on the bed beside her.  He was slow, deliberate.  He had plans.

As he stepped back to her side, his fingers trailed lightly along her skin, from her ankles to her shoulders.  He spread her legs as he moved purposefully, spending a few extra beats cupping and kneading her ass.  He massaged along her spine, ending at the base of her skull, carefully kneading and watching her eyes droop as she let down more of her defenses.  Under his fingers, he felt any remaining tension drain from her body, and he leaned down, kissing her cheek and tucking her hair behind her ear.  He had plans.

He reached across her body and picked up what he retrieved from the trunk.  Pointed, but not overly sharp, metal claws, one for each finger.  Once in place, he lightly walked his new claws along her spine, watching her face as she tried to figure out what it was.  His free hand slid down along her ass, giving it an appreciative squeeze before nudging her thighs apart even more, teasing along her slit.  The claws increased their pressure, but so did his hand between her legs, finding her clit and gently pressing against it.  He smirked as he heard her breathing quicken, body tensing slightly as she tried to stay in control.  He knew she wanted so badly to grind against his fingers, but he had plans.

Kras lifted his clawed hand and traced his pointer along her cheek very lightly, letting her feel the metal, warmed already by her body.  The same finger began to trail along her back, leaving light welts in its wake.  The fingers at her clit circled gently, then slid back and pressed into her cunt, ever so slightly.  He watched her face, her lips parting and letting out a silent gasp.  He added another claw and increased the pressure on her back, fingers pushing inside at an agonizingly slow pace.  He took a deep breath and calmed himself, lest he get too excited by his pet’s internal struggle.  She was so wet, and trying to pull his fingers deeper inside.  She groaned softly, but he heard it, pulling his hand away from her cunt and giving her ass a swift slap, dragging one claw, digging deep, against her back between her shoulder blades, an angry welt rising and a few tiny drops of blood appearing.  She whimpered and squirmed for a moment, eyes squeezed shut.

He leaned down to her face and whispered, “Who does this body belong to, pet?”

Her face crumpled and she opened her eyes slightly and whispered back, “Master.”

“And who gets to do whatever he wants to this body, pet?”

“Master…”

“And who decides when pet gets to play?”

“Master…”

He gave her ass another slap and stood back up, giving her a moment to compose herself.  Frowning at the welt he had created, he smeared the blood with the claws, then almost as an afterthought, brought them to his lips and licked her blood from them, smiling to himself as he tasted her.

He had plans.

Lena lay still on the bed, wanting so badly to grind her hips against his hand to rub her clit.  To stop herself from whimpering out loud, she buried her face under the pillows, biting at the sheets as Krastos’s hand returned to her ass after his lecture.  Her cheeks burned in shame at not being able to control herself, and for disappointing him.  She vowed to be a better pet.

Kras lifted the pillow that was covering her head and smiled faintly as his hand massaged her ass.  His girl was so shy.    She shivered as he touched the claws to her back.  He lowered his other hand between her legs, gently caressing her.  His smile grew wider as he teased and she didn’t move.

He nudged her side and rolled her over onto her back, pressing his palm to her belly, ignoring, as always, the indentation of a scar from Argus times.  She’d never told him the whole story, and as far as he cared, it didn’t matter.  To have remained all these millennia, the wound must have been grievous.  Dragging a claw along her torso to her neck, he tapped her chin, looking for her eyes.  She peered up at him shyly, timidly… trustingly.

Kras climbed onto the bed, straddling her and leaning forward, rocking his hips teasingly against her pelvis as he reached for the cuffs hidden in the headboard.  He sighed softly, laying down on top of her while he secured her wrists, biting gently along her shoulder.  He could feel her struggling to stay calm, knowing that she wanted him.  Sitting back up, he dragged his fingers along her body, claws on one hand, none on the other, grinning down at her, never taking his eyes off hers.

He lifted the clawed hand and clinked the metal appendages together so she could see, a wicked gleam in his eye, before latching the claws around her breast, the nipple just barely brushing against his palm as he dug deep.  She froze under him, her breathing uneven and haggard, and he knew she was trying not to make a sound.  And she looked away.  He tapped her chin again and gazed at her sternly, claws wriggling in the flesh of her breast.  He lifted an eyebrow.  Breathe.  Her eyes widened and she struggled for a moment, looking at him desperately as he rested his hand between her breasts, before her breathing returned to normal.  Good girl.

He hadn’t intended to break the skin, but the claws were new, and sharper than he counted on.  He frowned down at his hand, then at her breast.  She was bruising already, and he had indeed drawn blood, tiny blue pinpricks seeping from the skin.  He bent down, licking it clean, then biting at her nipple, tugging gently with his teeth.  She was breathing hard again, and he grabbed her chin and gazed at her pointedly.  This time, she calmed down without him saying a word.

 

Progress.

 

Together

Lena loosened her grip on the letters, afraid to ruin the already fragile paper, as Kras stroked her hair.  She closed her eyes and nuzzled her cheek against his arm before standing up, lazily dropping the blankets and moving closer to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, massaging his shoulders.  Her big, gruff, tough, intimidating shaman needed her as much as she needed him.  She smiled and leaned her body into his, kissing the top of his head.  His hands wrapped around her waist, almost engulfing it, and he lifted her easily into his lap on the bed.

“I am sorry for snooping, Master,” she whispered in his ear as she curled up against him.  But he didn’t seem angry or disappointed.  His hand slid up and down her bare back, sending shivers throughout her body so much that her fingertips tingled pleasurably.  He shushed her quietly and held her there, his large, rough hands stroking her skin.  He liked teasing her, but this seemed more like exploring, reacquainting himself after being away so long.  She didn’t mind.

She purred softly and nudged her head under his chin, still holding the letters, and peeking at one, skimming over it, hardly remembering when she wrote such flowery prose.  The time with the Sha’nash had hardened her in certain ways, apparently.  Now that they were pioneers, setting off with a brand new order, and starting from scratch, she suddenly longed to be the draenei she had been.  Doing whatever it took to take care of herself and Kras, and of the order.  It had been many ages since Kras had joined an order she belonged to, and she smiled at the thought.  Perhaps they worked best when they worked together.  And at least they now had a combined safety net that would let them survive a very long time, and indeed could add to it as they continued their work.

They sat there quietly for a long time, listening to the sounds of the human city outside the open window.  Lena lifted her eyes and noted again the shield and daggers on the wall beside the window.  She also spotted a large axe she hadn’t noticed before in the corner beside Kras’s side of the bed.  The bedroom seemed an odd place for such things.  She raised an eyebrow and pointed at them, “Must we really have weapons in the bedroom, Kras?”