Wanderlust

Author’s note: BETCHA THOUGHT I WAS DEAD HUH?? OMG this is like 5 billion years in coming I suck SO MUCH!!! My only defense is chapter 9 was originally MUCH LONGER. So long in fact, I decided it needed to be split into 2 chapters, so now I can give you the first part while I finish up the second, which now be chapter 10! So uh, yeah, enjoy! 8D

Chapter 9

The months passed, the season changed outside the land that knew only summer and bore witness to Enoki’s transformation from a starry eyed youth to a honed, skilled fighter. Every morning he awoke at dawn with his compatriots and lined up for drills where he did push-ups, lifted weights, ran for miles in the baking sun and sparred until his darkening teal skin shone with sweat and his chiseled physique rippled beneath it. His once wiry form filled out with sleek, elegant muscle as the days went by and his prowess with an axe grew ever sharper and more deadly until he found that he could wield two weapons in either hand with unmatched deftness and cunning.

A natural, Gor’rik had commented upon seeing the brazen Troll gleefully knocking down sparring partners one after another. Each day saw him in his routine of brutal grace and deadly accuracy and before long, Gor’rik finally felt him prepared to handle simple missions with some of his fellow new Grunts.

Mornings still began with training and drills as it did with the entire battalion, but instead of ending only when he was given permission to drag his aching sorry self to the mess fires and then to slump into his hammock above a rather noisy Tauren, after a sparse lunch he and a small outfit of men would head out into the savannahs for patrol. Only then, did Enoki finally find the thrill he had been desperately searching for his entire life. Out in the wilds they were prone to attacks by roving bands of barbaric, reeking Centaur, shrieking Quilboar wielding curses and diseases as punishment for coming too close to their lands, or even the occasional Silithid mound, and it was there he faced off against real foes and sharpened his warrior’s instincts.

The Centaur were the bulk of the problem and more often than not Enoki found himself at the wrong end of a storm cloud or an axe as he tried to gather water or fruit for the troops from an oasis. Fortunately for him, he was never without his razor sharp wit and resourcefulness with a hint of dumb luck for good measure. Just such an attack earned him legendary status among his barracks as the man who, in the heat of an ambush, managed to rope and ride a stampeding Centaur to eradicate the rest of the herd of hostile horsemen from his back. The troops would remember it far more glamorously than the almost accidental, foolhardy maneuver that it was, but because it had worked Enoki gladly retold the story again and again in increasingly grand detail.

Cleaning out the Silithid hives did nothing for his reputation other than to add the tale of him volunteering to scale one of the towering alien structures to get a better view of the infestation and toppling into a vat of gelatinous green goo when the top of it crumbled under his weight. Enoki emerged, drenched, and staring straight into the dripping maw of a furious brood mother and her hungrily hissing grubs, barely escaping with his hide intact and trailing slime down the dirt road as the hive chased him nearly back to the barracks. His compatriots were still howling with laughter once they caught up to him, and he could not help but laugh at himself as well as he paraded into camp for dinner that evening reeking to the sky and giving everyone a particularly intimate hug in greeting.

An encounter with the Quilboar Enoki would not remember so fondly, though it would become a favorite campfire story for weeks afterward. General opinion was that since Enoki had to be first to charge headlong into the squealing, snorting pig men, crackling with lightning and cackling with glee as they scurried away in terror, it was only natural that it was he who became the target of their most powerful conjurer and ended up sprawled on the ground in a flurry of feathers and claws clucking with rage. Without anyone in the group to dispel the transformation, through their laughter the rest of the soldiers completed the task of clearing out the camp, burning the briars, and gathering up what supplies they could salvage before plucking up their disoriented and fluttering chicken companion and carrying him back home. Luckily for them, the spell endured until they reached the Barracks, feigning solemnity and sorrow for their lost comrade and offering out a bird they had dubbed Enoki in memoriam. Jyota was mercifully elsewhere as gasps of horror and dumbfounded stares ensued, only for the chicken that had been peacefully pecking at the ground to burst in a flurry of magical smoke and leave a dazed Troll sprawled on the ground in its place.

It was hailed as a great practical joke by all but Enoki, especially since the infamous prankster of the camp had finally gotten some comeuppance. The Shaman of course being the one who was accustomed to laughing at others’ expenses when they fell prey to his own jokes and mischief. With time and a little persuasion, however, he eventually saw the humor in it. He did have to admit it was well played, and he was never above laughing at himself since he was almost always the wounded party.

More frequently than he would have liked Jyota came back from his own missions to find Enoki in the medic hut, laughing and telling the tale of his newest debacle despite some gruesome resulting injury as his natural regeneration and the skilled healers patched him back together. Each time he would scold him, not only as his commanding officer but as his unspoken partner, and offer a prayer in Zandali to the Loa to keep him safe as well as a light kiss upon each new scar on his body or nick in his ears. It was a strange ritual to him at first but Jyota, as Enoki would discover, was a deeply pious man of faith.

His dedication to the ways and worship of the carnal Loa gods was unparalleled in any Troll residing in the remote, dusty landscape, or anywhere else in the world as Enoki heard muttered many a time. He learned rapidly that while on leave or not on duty, Jyota could be as spontaneous and playful as he had been on his short visit to Aykwani, but when he was in charge he was the most commanding and stern officer in the entire camp. He was also staunchly protective of him in light of his adventurous nature, and more than anyone else ground his teeth and devoured fingernails watching Enoki do whatever he pleased.

While the two of them struggled to maintain that healthy, distant, military dealings as soldier and captain in public, their more intimate relationship was kept as clandestine as possible. Comprised mainly of scant brushes of the hand as they passed each other, stolen kisses behind supply huts under the pretense of needing assistance carrying out boxes, and longing, seductive glances across ranks of fighters between them, it was bearable only for the occasional, tragically rare evening when they could leap onto the back of Jyota’s raptor and ride out to a distant hill to eat dinner and watch the sunset alone. Those were nights they savored, laying on Jyota’s saddle blanket in each other’s arms, legs tangled, hands exploring, tusks locked and kissing as if the sun would never rise on them and shed light on their covert indiscretions. Countless uncomfortable, flushed and half aroused trips back to the camp always followed, and though Jyota had to steel himself against the desire in the coveted emerald green eyes he always managed to offer a hand to help Enoki off the back of his raptor, kiss him one last time away from prying eyes, and leave him at the door to his barrack watching disappointedly as he headed for his own private quarters.

Subtlety had never been one of Enoki’s defining qualities, and why Jyota could so easily caress his cheeks and whisper sweet nothings in his ear one evening and then publicly scold him for his form being off in drills the very next morning was baffling to him. Especially since their closeness was obvious to most everyone and he was often the subject of loving harassment for his undefiled body in spite of their long term engagement. Not for lack of trying on his part, however, for as fiendishly as he hinted, flirted, suggested to his partner, Jyota remained markedly aloof and constantly skirted the issue with a plethora of excuses. While it was a simple matter of hot blooded desire to Enoki, privately Jyota was deeply torn between his unshakeable loyalty to the Horde and his flourishing adoration for the younger, passionate Troll that seemed to live always in the shadow of trouble. Reckless and impulsive as he was, the captain was terrified one day the troops he departed with really would come back glum and missing one loud, redheaded Shaman.

Enoki was the trickster, the mischief maker and merrymaker with an infinite arsenal of pranks, jokes, and sometimes accidental pratfalls that kept even the dullest of patrol duties lively, and things were only made worse the fateful day Enoki went to feed Zynn, and suddenly realized how big he had gotten. The crimson beast stood a good head taller than him and he had grown docile and alert, responding to his master’s commands he had learned since he was a hatchling and almost beckoning the Troll to mount him with his keen golden eyes and hypnotically swishing tail. Visions of tearing across the Barrens astride his very own noble steed filling his mind, immediately Enoki dove headfirst into the supply huts and fished out the distinctive narrow saddle with loops meant to secure it to the back of a raptor.

Zynn was less than receptive at first of the strange device on his back, thrashing and chittering in protest and throwing it to the ground several times, but Enoki remained vigilant and stubborn and by midday the thing had been lashed into place and the bridle wedged between his deadly jaws. The raptor at last seemed to comprehend the concept of wearing something on his back and, trusting his imprinted master utterly, allowed him to clamber up into the saddle and seat himself. Enoki took up the reins, gazed out on the view from atop his mount, and Zynn took off like a flash with a piercing screech and no manner of warning whatsoever. Fully oblivious, the Troll hit the saddle with a thud, lost the grip on the leather thongs and threw his arms around Zynn’s neck as the ring of huts, barracks and soldiers melted into a blur around him.

They tore around people, cooking pits, and tethered mounts. They leapt over boxes and crashed through weapon racks with soldiers yelping and diving out of the way of the rampaging raptor at every turn. Zynn’s sinewy body glinted like flame and Enoki bobbed atop him cackling and whooping, leaving nothing but the echoes of his laughter, a trail of dust and a lashing tail in their wake as they carved an erratic path of destruction through the outpost. Enoki was oblivious to existence atop his raptor, swift as the wind and lighter than air as they breezed past the severe looking Orc woman that was leading the party he should have been lined up for that day just as she was screeching his name furiously for roll call for the fifth time. The only answer she received was the thundering of hooked talons in the dirt behind her accompanied by a thick, scaly tail to the face as she turned toward the sound, sending her spinning spectacularly face first into the ground. The troops exploded into laughter, the furious officer rose covered in dust and growling through her tusks, and Enoki disappeared into the distance.

He rode like a streak out into the wilds, heedless of duty, of obligation, knowing only the weightless exhilaration of riding tall in the saddle, wearing only his trousers, and sinking into the rhythm of Zynn’s nimble feet that would be his own. The powerful creature beneath him moved with him, responded to him, and flew over the barren ground faster than even his very first raptor ride clinging to Jyota. Gradually, experimentally tugging on the reins and pinching his knees into his flanks he learned what would make Zynn veer right and left, what would make him slow down and even what would make him leap to clear rocks and gullies. Together in the heat of the stolen day they finally bonded, sealed their partnership as rider and raptor and ran until they exhausted themselves and the daylight over what could, to them, have been the entirety of Azeroth. He lost himself in the feeling of the wind in his hair and the sun on his face, lifting his arms and throwing his head back to let his partner carry him wherever his whims took them.

The day blissfully escaped him, and he stopped only when he had reached a high dune overlooking an oasis with the hazy mountains in the muddled distance and Enoki felt the old, familiar tug at his chest. If he squinted into the ruddy line severing earth from sky he could almost envision the mythical forest of the Elves he had been repeatedly warned against venturing into. He tried to envision what it would look like, a true Elven forest with its magical trees and springs, but he had never seen such a thing. There was nothing in his mind to even shape a day dream. He would have to see for himself, and for a brief moment he wondered if Zynn was fast enough to take him just to the border before sundown for a peek. Reality came back in a cruel instant to crush that thought, however, and the Shaman reluctantly turned his mount the opposite direction and spurred him into an easy lope back on the road toward home.

The duo returned in time for both dinner and a welcoming party of Gor’rik, the rest of the captains, and a seething livid Jyota. While Gor’rik and the others at his sides seemed grimly satisfied to keep their roster full and cast Enoki disapproving glares, Jyota remained with his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes screwed shut as the joy endured on Enoki’s face.

“Hey guys! Hey Jyota! Jyota guess what? I finally got tah ride Zynn an’ it was awesome! Ain’ dat awesome? Jyota? Hey! What’s wit’ all de-“

“Do you have ANY idea what you jes did, Enoki?!” Jyota interrupted furiously.

Enoki looked taken aback for only a brief moment before he regained his cheery countenance.

“You bettah believe I do! I went out tah feed Zynn dis mornin’ an’ I saw dat he was jes’ as big, if not biggah den de oddah raptors in dere! So I went an’ got me a saddle an’ rode him all ovah! Aw Jyota it was amazin’! Zynn de fastest thing I evah seen! I swear it felt like we was fly-“

“Are you daft, mon!?” interrupted Jyota when he could endure no more of Enoki’s oblivious enthusiasm, “You coulda been arrested for desertion you idiot! Not tah mention yah nearly destroyed half our supplies we had out today!”

Clearly not understanding the gravity of a charge of desertion or the value of the weapons, food, and armor he had bent and damaged, Enoki slid off the saddle and plopped down on the ground beside Zynn with one elbow leaning casually against him.

“Heh, naw it wasn’ nothin’ like dat! I jes took a day off is all. You all know good ol’ Enoki wouldn’ jes run off an’ abandon dis place,” he explained with his eyes closed, a crooked smirk, and a little finger twisted into his ear.

“A day off? A day OFF?! You a grunt in de military, mon! You don’ GET days off! Dis ain’ no shopkeepin’ job you can jes put a sign up in de window all ‘be back latah’ while yah go off an’ take a ride through de park! An’ on top’a dat you left wit no weapon, no armor, an wit’out tellin’ anyone where you was goin’! Dis ain’ Mulgore anymore! Dis place be dangerous! De hell you think you was signin’ up for? A game?!” the violet-haired Troll continued, fists clenched at his sides and quivering.

“Huh? Hey, dat ain’ fair, I don’ think dis be a game at all!” Enoki snapped indignantly.

“Well you sure as hell actin’ like it! You don’ take nothin’ seriously, you reckless, you selfish, you don’ follow orders. Do you even think at all before you jes’ run in like a rampagin’ Kodo beast?” the other continued, wiry Mohawk bristling.

Enoki raised a heavy brow, smiled and laughed with a shrug.

“Course I don’t! Why de hell would I think? You spend too much time thinkin’ an’ not enough time actin’ an’ dat precious brain gonna get bashed in. Dat what gonna happen! You gotta do your thinkin’ on yah toes!” he explained.

The younger Troll raised his fists and bounded on his toes in preparation for a mock battle, grinning cheerily until a stern hand lashed out, grabbed him by the wrist and yanked him close.

“Hey! What gives-!?”

“Dis ain’ a joke, Enoki,” Jyota hissed before he could finish, looming threateningly over him and digging his fingers into the soft underside of his arm.

“Ow! O-Okay okay, I get it! Jes lemme-“ he sputtered, eyes wide and a disturbed expression of shock about him.

“No,” the Hunter affirmed, golden eyes boring into his, “Enough is enough Enoki. I tired’a catchin’ crap from de oddah captains for de way you behavin’ an’ for de work you don’ get done, I tired a worryin’ whether or not you gonna come back or not, an’ I especially tired a’ you not listenin’ to a damn word anyone says to you an’ makin’ up yah own rules! Tomorrow you stay here at de Barracks, an’ you scrub out all de stables good an’ thorough! You don’ leave, you don’ suit up, you don’ even eat wit’out my express permission, you hear me?”

Silence settled thickly between them with Jyota’s fingers like talons around Enoki’s wrist. His words lingered in their air like poison from which Enoki hunkered away with sharp teeth bared and eyes narrowed like a cornered animal. They stung against his lids as his ears flattened back against his skull, and with a feral growl in his throat he ripped his arm away from the shadowy stranger that had taken his beloved Hunter’s place.

“Yes, sir…” Enoki hissed bitterly, “Jyota… Sir…”

That one word hit Jyota through the core so hard it crumbled all of his fury. Never before had he been addressed that way by the other unless it was in jest. He winced as Enoki hunched his shoulders, grabbed Zynn’s reins and skulked past him in stone cold silence.

“Enoki…” Jyota ventured in a gentler tone, holding his hands out in a placating gesture, “You don’ gotta be like dat. Come on, it ain’ dat bad. I coulda done a lot worse things to you.”

A flash of red hair cut across his vision and he found himself looking into the furious, tear glossed emerald eyes once more.

“Worse things?!” he sibilated, blue flashes of electricity glinting and cracking around him, “Ain’ nothin’ worse den actin’ like my papa when you supposed tah be my… My whatevah de hell we are!”

“Your papa!” Jyota exclaimed in horror, “Enoki I punishin’ you as your superior officer! Not like a damn parent! Loa!”

The frustrated Hunter threw his hands in the air and clapped one over his forehead, rubbing his temples soothingly.

“Would you get it through yah head already dat you got duties now? You got an obligation here! You ain’ jes a body! Dere people here an’ in Durotar, Sen’Jin, Orgrimmar, all countin’ on you tah keep it safe! Families! Children! Dis ain’ some adventure where you sweep in, get de guy an’ den live happily evah aftah! You gotta take dis seriously!” he ranted.

Enoki had endured the fight with sparking anger, but with those final words his face instantly shifted to a wounded blankness. Silence wrapped tightly around his throat and though his lips parted several times to speak, no sound would issue forth.

“You… Think I ain’ serious about protectin’ dis place?” he finally asked in a small voice, taking a skittish step backward.

Groaning, his partner ran a hand through his frazzled Mohawk. He cursed in Zandali under his breath and reached out for Enoki tenderly.

“No! No I… Dat ain’ it at all! Dat came out wrong, I jes’ meant dat-“

Enoki dodged the hand heading for his shoulder deftly and slapped it away.

“Don’ touch me!” the Shaman barked, eyes narrow and teeth bared, “You dunno de hell you sayin’! I fightin’ jes’ as hard as anyone out dere!”

Jyota pulled his hand back, hurt.

“I-I know dat,” he sputtered defensively, “But you can’t jes’ do whatevah pleases you!”

“Why?” Enoki demanded without hesitation, arms crossed over his chest with a cocky sneer, “I thoughta stuff no one else would, I cut down de horse men an’ de pig men jes’ like everyone else. I keep my ears sharp fah de sound of Alliance! But it ain’ about dat… It because I jes’ yah cute little Sparky, an’ I ain’ no soldier right?”

“Dat ain’ true an’ you know it!” came the seething retort, “I treatin’ you like a soldier an’ you get pissed like I babyin’ you! I treat you like a lovah and you wanna be treated like a Soldier!”

“Den what am I?!” Enoki finally roared at the top of his lungs, the force of it leaving him breathless for a moment before he dared speak again, “What am I tah you…? Jyota?”

Jyota opened his mouth to answer but quickly found the answer was not as swift to his lips as he thought. He croaked, he hesitated and grit his teeth, but his tongue could not be persuaded. There was no name for what Enoki was to him. There was no explanation. The Shaman was not lover, he was not friend, he was not subordinate. To him still he was just Enoki. Enoki whom he could only watch and stutter as his heart broke and registered clearly on his face.

“Dat what I thought,” he whispered with a defeated nod and turned around to begin walking back to the barracks.

“E-Enoki! Wait! I-It not dat! It complicated, mon! You can’t be askin’ me a loaded question like dat an’ jes expect an easy answer! Enoki! Enoki! Sparky!” Jyota called after him, but to no avail. Enoki was gone.

He had nothing more to say to the Hunter, though through the buzzing in his skull he wondered himself just what Jyota was to him. He had been his ultimate fantasy he never even knew he had; the tall dark and handsome stranger riding on a vicious raptor and quite literally sweeping him off his feet. He had been his constant obsession and the object of so many lost afternoons, sleepless nights and lovelorn sighs. He was the treasure at the end of his journey, the man who was supposed to open his arms for him and show him the ways of love and life; a man who would be his partner for all time.

However, the reality of Captain Jyota was jarringly nothing at all like those romantic visions he had watched against the canvas of the boundless blue skies of Mulgore and against the darkness of his eyelids. Mentally, Enoki could manage to wrap his brain around Jyota’s reasoning for keeping their relationship distant but that hardly dulled the ache in his chest. He forced himself to understand at least for the moment and calm his infuriated nerves, to smile and joke with the cooks as he went to gather a plate of food for dinner, but the cloud of fury and sorrow still hung around his head as he slumped down on a log beside the fire. The others gathered in a circle enjoying their evening meal were startled and gazed wide-eyed at their young, feisty companion as he hungrily shoveled food into his mouth without a word. A silent Enoki, they knew, was an unhappy Enoki. An Enoki without Jyota at his side was an ominous sign as well.

“Hey, Enoki!” a bright-eyed Orc male called cheerily, “What’s up? We haven’t seen you all day and now you come home looking like… You’ve been discharged or something!”

Ears all around the campfire pricked up and curious eyes glanced over toward the redhead. Only one of his nicked teal ears swiveled back up in response.

“Eh? De hell you get an idea like dat mon?” he asked with a forced smirk, “Dey ain’ getting’ rid’a Enoki jes yet!”

One possibility for the foul mood nixed, silent urging filtered about the others in earshot and an energetic Tauren woman with mottled white and black fur happily perched herself beside him to try her hand.

“Oh…? Well that’s good! You looked kind of upset or something! But where’s Captain Jyota? Doesn’t he usually come and eat with you?” she inquired in a sweet, airy voice.

The forced grin evaporated instantly from Enoki’s face, replaced by a bitter scowl.

“He busy,” he retorted curtly, cramming a crusty bread roll in his mouth to discourage further inquiry.

Rumors still being rumors, and no one being certain Enoki and Jyota were still a legitimate item, a morsel of a hint was enough to draw the attention of would be eavesdroppers like moths to a flame. Several more Soldiers discreetly abandoned their own conversations and leaned closer to hear. Tail swishing and determination blazing the Tauren gasped and put a hand to her chest in thinly veiled mock concern.

“Too busy to eat with his troops? But he always comes out here with us! And he… Usually talks to you last so I just assumed…” she continued, drawling on her words.

“Uhhhh…” Enoki blurted, brows raised incredulously, “Well dat ain’ always true, who said he always talks to me last?”

“Oh you know! No one SAID it but… We all just sort of just happened to notice that Captain Jyota consults with you pretty often! And that he always calls you out for assignments… And to speak to you privately… And yeah you get into trouble a lot so, I mean, it’s probably nothing! Right…?”

The grinning Tauren woman leaned in further, her palms on her knees and her oaken brown irises alight with inquisitiveness. Enoki glanced sidelong at her and backed away slowly from the muzzle getting uncomfortably near his face, only to shift his eyes to the opposite side and see the crowd craning toward him with the same look of eager hunger for a confession. On all sides he was surrounded, all eyes and ears focused solely on him awaiting his reply with baited breath. He shrank down under the sea of eyes and the pressure of their anxiousness, and finally the last thread of his already thinned nerves frayed and snapped.

“FINE!” Enoki howled, sparking with electricity and slamming his tin dinner plate on the ground, “We had a fight, okay?! You win! You all happeh now?! Nosy assholes…”

He folded his arms across his chest and sank down into himself, lower lid of his eye twitching and lip curled over his sharp teeth with a guttural growl. Even still, the troops only gasped in delight and crowded closer with the truth finally revealed.

“Awww, so it is true then!” the same Tauren crooned delightedly, clasping her hands against her cheek, “How cute! Oh Enoki don’t worry about that! All couples have fights every once in a while! It couldn’t have been that bad!”

A resounding laugh rumbled through the crowd in agreement. Enoki just blushed deeper and screwed his eyes shut.

“Yeah, yeah whatevah! No biggie. Don’ you people have bettah things tah do den stick your noses intah oddah people’s drama?” he spat distastefully.

“No,” a smug looking, voluptuous female Troll with electric pink hair in dreadlocks across the fire from him answered without hesitation, “Ain’ nothin’ here but Barracks romance an’ heartbreak tah chase de boredom away!”

“You just think that because you’ve been in the hammock of just about every man here,” a sudden and distinctly masculine joking interjection came from somewhere, followed by a wave of chuckles.

Unfazed, the woman smirked and nonchalantly crossed her arms over her abdomen to give her ample bosom a teasing lift.

“Yah only sayin’ so ‘cause I nevah been tah yours sweetie,” she purred before turning back to Enoki with a predatory grin and long lashes lowered over her smoldering ruby irises, “Though you anoddah story, broddah, if Jyota ain’ puttin’ out, I be happy tah pop dat cherry a’ yours…”

She pursed her lips and blew him a kiss off her palm which Enoki promptly toppled off his log bench to avoid.

“Fah! You wouldn’t know what tah do wit me if you got me!” he countered confidently, even though he was hauling himself up from the dirt and blushing redder than his hair.

She responded with a hearty laugh and took the opportunity to turn her attentions on another hapless male who looked all too eager to accept them. The Tauren woman sidled closer to Enoki and wrapped a, thick, furry arm around his shoulders as she began pontificating about what she and her husband did when they had a fight and conversation among the soldiers slowly died down to the normal chatter. Enoki listened politely, surprised to realize she had some earnest advice for him, and he found himself in better spirits by the time the fires were doused and everyone began the weary trek to bed. Crawling into his hammock and tugging his wool blanket over his aching body sore in ways he had never been sore before was bliss, but when he closed his eyes to sleep he could think only of Jyota’s furious words toward him, and the degrading punishment that awaited him upon the dawn.