Tryst

Heeeey guys... So sorry this took so long =( My Husband went and reformatted the computer while I was at work one day, and failed to backup my folders... soooo, needless to say, all the work I had put into this chapter was LOST.. which sucked, because it was ALMOST FINISHED... So I had to go and rewrite the whole thing. In the long run, it's probably a good thing, as that first version was kind of sucky. So Yeah.

Just a note - This chapter hasn't been beta read, since Typo seems to be MIA. *pout* Ah well. You'll learn to speak my language eventually =D

Much love guys. Enjoy!


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The next few hours were a combination of frustration and amusement. The Elf had returned to the cave, pulling her armor back on as quickly as her sore muscles would allow. She tried as hard as she could not to stare at me, my trousers barely keeping my persistent arousal a secret. I tried to take it all in stride and ignore the burn between my legs when I was finally able to settle my blood. The sight of her squirming into her boots, trying to right her hair and avoid looking at me was a little unnerving, though.

Eventually, through no spoken agreement, we found ourselves back on the road, she atop her giant cat of a mount, me limping along beside them, one hand resting on the great beast's shoulder. The Elf lacked the strength in her muscles to properly guide him, so it fell to me to give gentle pushes when we needed to turn corners. The big feline wasn't too keen on the idea of traveling with me, but after a few harsh words from his Mistress, he conceded to a temporary truce. He reminded me of my place as often as he could get away with through a rough growl, or a quick snap at my fingertips. So it wasn't smooth sailing, but I managed.

Eventually, the path started to lead down the cliff face, toward the shore below. We still could not see it clearly, the fog being thicker there, rolling off the ocean waves, but I knew instantly what would meet us at the bottom. The fact that I had not immediately recognized the area was a serious blow to my ego, but I decided to keep silent about that for the time being. It would do no good to lose face even more than I already had.

“Steep rocks ahead, mon. Best go on foot.”

The Elf looked down at me, her brows lifting in surprise, but she did as she was told. Silently, I helped her down from the back of her mount, and with a few soft words, she dismissed the great beast. We watched him lumber back up the path toward the top of the cliff, and disappear into the mist. We stared at the space he had once occupied, seeming to vanish like a specter, and eventually realized that my arms were still around her tiny little waist.

She cleared her throat, and we parted, both slightly embarrassed. Together, walking side by side, we made our way to the bottom.

Spongy, almost mossy grass met my bare feet, wiggled between my toes, and I sighed in relief. The ocean was to my left, spraying softly against my exposed shoulder and arm, and unwittingly, I found my hand seeking hers. She did not stiffen, did not pull away, instead letting me envelope her tiny digits in my palm.

“The Overlook Cliffs.” she said, the fog around us making the noise a whisper, a tiny echo in a deep, empty vastness. I nodded, though I was sure she did not see.

“Near Revantusk. Ya be goin' on, Elf?”

Her breath was small, another phantom sound in my ears, “No, this is where I wanted to be. I came for my pet.”

I wanted to ask about that, but decided to keep my questions unsaid. It was obvious she was there for one of the giant turtles that populated the shore. To ask her would be just stupid, would make me sound stupid. Internally, I admitted that to even want to ask the question was just a mask; a way to delay our parting, to keep her talking, to keep reminding myself that despite the dream like state this fog had thrown us into, she was indeed real. I gave her hand a slight squeeze, which she returned.

Soon, I found myself looking down at her, most of her lower body hidden by the mist.

“Elf, der be sumthin' I needs ta' tell ya.”

She tilted her face up, the glow in her eyes barely strong enough to penetrate the wall of thick water between us. Her lips parted slightly, the lower looking full and lush and I could not help myself as I reached up, brushing it with my thumb. All the years of being separate from her, though our time together had been for only a single night all seemed to come crashing down on me then. I did not want to see her go, did not want to walk away from her toward the village. I needed to, I knew; I had injuries that needed proper care, and I needed to send word to my Guild Master about the mishap on the road and see about possibly taking a loan out from the Guild Vault to replace the supplies I had lost.

There were hundreds of reasons to turn, to walk away from her, but my legs would not obey my commands. Instead, they moved forward, closer to her little body. My own body tensed hard, the want of her coming to the forefront once again, despite how hard I tried to stamp it down. Then was not the time to give into my baser need for her.

“What is it?” she asked, though I had to read her lips to catch even three words. Her voice had gone so soft, wispy and light. I closed my eye, no longer able to stand looking at her, and rested my forehead against hers.

Both my hands went up to her face, cupping her jaw, my fingers tangling in her hair. She gripped my wrists loosely, giving them a reassuring squeeze.

“I be sorry. Fo'give da Atal fo everytin'.”

I tilted slowly, and careful of my tusks, kissed her as softly as I could manage. When I pulled away, I saw that despite the fact that she had enjoyed the kiss, her brows were drawn in confusion, her eyes still closed.

“Atal...” my name sounded odd on her lips, her tongue forming around the foreign sound, “If you are speaking of the lower moments of our encounter these past two days, I hardly think there is a need to apologize. I would say, in the grand scheme of things, that we are about even.”

I smiled, though she could not see it, and leaned forward again, kissing the little wrinkle between her eye brows. They relaxed immediately, her body moving in closer to mine. She could really be so simple at times.

“Ya really don't know, do ya?” I asked, examining her upturned face. When she only opened her eyes, staring up at me in confusion, I felt a knot inside my stomach loosen.

“Don't know what? What is it you are dancing around?”

I kissed her between the eyes again, moving down to her nose, her cheek and chin. Her hand flexed over my wrists with every small touch of lips to skin, and eventually I made my way back to her mouth, finding it soft and ready for me.

“Why ya be lettin' a Troll ya don't know kiss all over ya, Elf?”

The question was unexpected, obviously, but she slid into like a champion bullshitter.

“Because this particular Troll is hung like a Kodo.”

I laughed, the noise carrying surprisingly far. In the distance, one of the large turtles that roamed the shore squawked in response, and I chose not to take offense to that.

Of course, I wasn't prepared for her to push her earlier question.

“Why are you dancing, Atal?” she repeated. I turned to look toward the South, my heart starting to hammer in my chest.

Abruptly I turned to her again, pressing my mouth to hers with a fierceness she had not expected. She stumbled, and I gripped her lower back to keep her standing, pressing her into my body as intimately as two creatures could be. Her mouth still tasted of the pieces of sweet bread she had eaten on the road.

When I pulled away I spoke quickly, before she could ask me again.

“I be goin' to tha village. Should be back in 'bout two or three days. If ya still here, I come find ya, and answer ya questions.”

Before she could protest, open her eyes or even breathe, I stepped into the fog, letting the shadows cover me and hide my presence from all who cared to look. I moved slowly away, sighing internally when I heard my name, spoken so softly, with so much confusion, it almost made me turn and go back to her.

Forcing my feet forward, I willed myself toward Revantusk.

- - - - - - - - - -

“Ya be lucky, mon. Ya didn't puncture yo lungs!”

I grunted as the healer synched the fresh bandages around my middle, a little tighter than was necessary in my opinion. He did not seem to notice my discomfort, though, and continued on to my various cuts and marks. They had healed up for the most part on their own, though a few of the deeper ones needed to be reopened and properly cleaned. I winced silently as he did so, clean fingers picking scabs and rubbing stinging ointment into the wounds. These too were wrapped in fresh cloth, loser than the wrap about my ribs.

“Ya need ta stay put for at least a day, ta let the bones start ta set. I can do da healin' on dem tomorrow for ya.”

I nodded, shrugging a new shirt over my shoulders. It was, thankfully, a kind that did not require going over my head, instead lacing in the front, letting me leave it open to let the wounds breath. The Healer moved around his hut, putting his supplies away, dropping his utensils in a clay basin to soak for later sterilization. Once he was done cleaning up, he directed me toward the Inn with a gentle pat on the shoulder, careful of the freshly stitched cut.

The village of Revantusk was much the same as it had been over the past few years. I had not had much cause to visit, focusing more on missions near Durotar, but I found it wasn't all that bad. I had a cousin that liked to frequent the area, as the fishing was particularly fine, but it was currently out of season. I would find no family relations there that time of year. The thought was oddly comforting, to tell the truth. It was not as though my cousin and I were not on good terms – no, that was definitely not the case. I just felt the need to be alone.

Depression was never a good thing in a Troll. Bordem was worse. And I had a feeling that I would suffer both the longer I stayed in the village.

But, naturally, not all my hunches worked out. As I neared the Inn, I heard a telltale commotion inside; one that promised I was walking into what sounded like a bar fight. I sighed, shaking my head, wondering what fool was causing trouble inside, and hoping that I would not become an unwitting victim in the whole mess. The last time I had.... My hand went up automatically to the patch over what was once my right eye, and I shuddered. That was certainly no happy story.

Despite my track record with bar fights, I made my way through the door, and felt my veins freeze.

Crouched behind and overturned table was a Troll female and an Orc woman. The Troll in question was in the process of throwing a half full tankard across the room at a pair of terrified looking Undead. The two being assaulted looked to be warriors, their armor showing that they themselves were not entirely versed in the ways of the world just yet. The Troll was laughing as the tankard smashed against the wall, inches from one of the Forsaken's heads. The Orc was cursing at her companion, her blue eyes shining in absolute rage and horror.

It was, of course, just my luck.

Looking around me, I spied another tankard, this one blessedly empty, and I tossed it toward the guilty pair. It wasn't a hard throw, the cup bouncing against the floor once before it knocked into the Orc's foot. She looked away from her companion, her fierce eyes locking on mine and burning into my gut. But the anger faded almost immediately when she saw me. Her hand gripped the shoulder of her still laughing friend.

“Jazlok! Jazlok, you idiot, pay attention!”

The Troll ignored her friend, looking around for any available debris to throw at the poor, harassed Undead across the room. Finally, the Orc had had enough, and she gripped Jazlok's chin, forcing her to look in my direction.

Red eyes lit up, a wide smile spreading across her face. She looked almost manic, and the thought terrified me.

“Atal, mah' dearest piece a Troll Meat!” she squealed, and quick as a flash, a speed that always frightened me, I found myself with my arms full of ecstatic Troll woman. I tried to keep her away from my ribs, but knew the effort would be useless, and instead returned her embrace. Looking over the top of her head, I nodded to the Orc.

“Noth.”

She nodded back, resting her battle ax over her shoulder, “Atal.”

“Ya two be causin' trouble?”

Jazlok pulled away, giving me an impudent pout, “I didn' do nuthin'! Dem zombies be startin' it!”

“Not true!” One of the Forsaken yelled at us, apparently getting over his immediate fear of his harassers, “We just asked her a question and she went mad!”

“And I don't appreciate being tossed in with her lot.” Noth grumbled, nudging Jazlok with her foot. Jazlok pouted even more, blinking up at me with a strong attempt at innocence.

The problem was, with Jazlok, you could never be sure if she was completely sincere, or just that good at lying. In the five years that I had known her, I had yet to really figure out her motives and behavior. With her, it was best just to stop struggling and follow along for the ride.

“Atal, ya don't 'tink I be doin' anytin' bad, do ya?”

I blinked at her, my expression going blank. If I were to take the bait she so eagerly dangled in front of me, I would end up in a debate over her goodness and purity for at least the next two days, and that was if Noth decided to finally intercede and shut her up. For as long as I had been familiar with those two, Noth seemed to be the only one Jazlok would actually listen to, and even then it wasn't frequent.

Instead of letting the situation perpetuate, I took the next best course of action: Distraction.

“What ya be doin' here, Jaz? Thought you was torturin' da poor souls in Tanaris dis time a year.”

The change of subject brought a whole new brightness to her eyes, and ignoring the yelling and grumbling of the other bar patrons, she took my arm and ushered me over to a table that was still surprisingly standing. Practically tossing me into my seat, Noth demurely perching on her own chair to my right, she explained.

Apparently, the fact that I had gone missing for all of two and a half days was big news. The last she had heard, through mutual acquaintance, I had been heading toward the South for reasons unknown, and was due to send word to the Guild Master, which, obviously, never happened. After discovering my disappearance, she had bravely volunteered herself for a mission of required bravery and grit, to track me down in the wilderness of the Eastern Kingdoms and would not stop to even sleep until I was found!

Noth rolled her eyes through the spill of words, and I smirked inwardly. Apparently, bar fights were an acceptable use of her time as well.

“We were jus' on our way out da door to continue da search when bam, there ya be!” she chirped happily, reaching forward to pat my cheek. I allowed her to do so, though it would probably have been smarter to keep her at at least a 5 foot distance at all times. Jaz just has that strange affect on me, though. When someone accidentally gouges your eye out, you form a kinship with them.

“So what brings you to Revantusk, then? More of your secret spy games?”

Both Jaz and I shot Noth an annoyed look – the Orc had a habit of stirring it up between the three of us, particularly about our profession. Despite my annoyance at the jab, it at least gave me a feeling of comfortable familiarity. If Noth was taking digs at Rogues, then everything must be alright with the world.

Unfortunately, she actually expected an answer to her question, an answer I wasn't sure how to give. How could I tell my two friends, one of which who was insanely protective of me in the first place, that I had gone running across the world on a tip, a small whisper in the lines of information that I could find a certain Night Elf. Of course, I could lie to them, though that would only get me a knock to the head; aside from being overly protective, Jaz had a habit of seeing through me, then tattling to Noth that I had lied. Noth would do the knocking. Jaz would stand over me with that disappointed Mother look, and I'd feel about Gnome tall.

“Actually,” I said, my eye glued to the table top, “I got thrown from mah mount. Had ta' walk 'ere.”

“That's it?”

I chanced a glance at the Orc, then to Jazlok, finding their expressions suspicious, though they did not question me further when I confirmed that, yes, that was it. There was really no need to explain to them my capture, escape and almost coital circumstances with the Night Elf. Especially since she was likely still prowling around the shore, looking for a pet that would suit her. At least, that what's I was hoping. If they discovered she was the reason for my dallying, my disappearance, and a small majority of my injuries, she would not live to see the next morning.

Within an hour, the bar had been put to rights. The Undead that had been the unwitting victims of Jazlok's odd sense of fun had slunk away to parts unknown, and the drinks had begun to flow freely. I had a few myself, mindful of my injuries as I did not want my thinning blood to begin flowing again, and we spent most of the evening telling stories and catching up the time lost between us. It had only been a year, but as was usual for them, the tales Jazlok and Noth told me were numerous and held a strong scent of dark humor. Despite all I had been through the past two days, despite all I was going to have to face in the next, I relished the moment of companionship, filing it away for days when I needed a little encouragement.

By the time we started staggering toward our rooms, the moon was already on its way back down toward the horizon. Through another odd coincidence, my room was directly across the hall from Jaz and Noth's, and I watched, smirking and amused, as the former giggled drunkenly, gripping the door jamb as the latter tried in vain to yank her into their room.

“Ataaaaaaaal...” she whined girlishly, “Make her stop! I jus' wanna talk wit' you!”

“You've been talking for hours! It's time to go to bed!” Noth insisted, giving her another tug. Jaz's fingers slipped, but not enough to dislodge her grip.

“Okays, maybes I dun' wanna talk wit' 'im. It be his fault, though! He be lookin' all fine an' tasty and grinnin' an-”

I laughed, cutting off her drunken tirade, “Ya be makin' me blush, mon. Listen' to ya warden. Get some sleep, girly.” I stepped forward, easing one of her hands away from the door, and kissed her knuckles, “I be seein' ya lata, I promise. I needs ta rest tonight to see da healer in da mornin', though, so no more fuss.”

She pouted at me, but conceded, much to my and Noth's relief. I could hear her whining at the poor Orc even through the shut door, though. Sighing, shaking my head, I made my way into my own room, grateful for the relative quiet. I knew that the noise next door would continue for at least another half an hour as Noth attempted to get a drunken, upset Jaz out of her armor and ready for bed, but after that all would be blessedly silent. With that in mind, I began to prepare for sleep myself, glad for once that I did not have much to take care of with all my supplies gone. My armor had been directly sent from the Healer's hut, and it hung on the rack at the opposite side of the room. My bedding had already been turned down.

Off to the side was an adjacent room, more of a wide closet if you're considering space, and I spied a small, copper bathtub. Recently, the Innkeeper had dipped into his coffers and paid a Goblin Engineer to fit water pipes to all the rooms for the novelty of instant hot water. I was tempted by the idea, knowing that a good, hot soak would do my muscles a world of good. Glancing out the window, I gauged how late it was, and decided that it would definitely do more good than harm. I stepped into the bath closet and twisted the decorative ivory handle, grinning as the pipes rattled and hissed, and steaming water spilled out the spigot.

I made my way back into the room to undress, letting the tub fill. Within minutes I was reclined in the water, sighing heavily as my muscles started to loosen. The tub itself, though a wonderful invention, was not exactly made with Trolls in mind. While it was built in a comfortable recline, a shallow dip for my neck and head near the rim so I could rest my arms up on the edges and tilt my head back, it wasn't exactly long enough for my entire body. My legs dangled over the far end, and to make up for it, I shoved a thick, fluffy towel along the rim to rest the crooks of my knees on. All in all, I was in a comfortable position within minutes. It felt absolutely divine.

For nearly an hour I lay back in the water, a damp cloth over my eyes as I had removed the leather patch, and let the heat ease my aches away. Personally, I blame the strain of the past few days for my lapse in guard.

When I felt the sharp point of my own dagger pressing just below my chin, all I could do was mentally sigh.

“I be sensin' a trend here, mon.”