Shock him back

[moonshadows]

No more words. Nothing left to plead, no more reasons to give. Threats were always hollow anyway. Hope eroded with each hour until all that’s left is the certain knowledge of failure. Hands fall off his hand, arms hug myself as if they could hold in the tears.

Tears. They came once like blood, pumping from a mortal wound. Now they fall gently as rain at dawn in Stranglethorn. Close my eyes, hunch over the burning despair where his soul so recently nestled.

Hand on my shoulder. Didn’t hear him come in.

“Go away, Thrall.” Feel the shock through the physical contact. Blood and thunder, I hurt him. I don’t have the strength to deal with this. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that.” There’s no way he missed my empty tone, my tears. But if I let his sympathy in, the despair will pour out in a flood and break me. “Please. Leave me alone with my grief.” If I let it out slowly, maybe it won’t kill me.

“Grief?” Low rumble, more felt than heard. I want to cling to it. “But you don’t…”

“I don’t grieve. I channel it into rage. But there’s no one left to rage at. The Lich King is no more, and Mal’Ganis is gone. There’s nothing left.”

“But…” He sounds confused.

“He’s not waking up.” The words burn like venom. I can’t stop them any more than the tears. “They said there was a chance this would happen, that his spirit might need to be…shocked back into life…” Keep my eyes closed. Don’t want to see the pity in his eyes, can feel it in his hand on my right shoulder. “Three years…working so hard, fighting…devoting myself to the cause…doing…and…en..during…” Voice not steady to begin with stumbles past Mal’Ganis, mind shudders away. “I have nothing left, Thrall. I poured everything I had into getting to this moment. If he doesn’t wake up…” His hand tightens in mute comfort as my voice catches. “…I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to be anything but Champion Ironheart again.”

“Ryxl…” No more than a whisper, yearning.

The cold, uncaring comfort of Champion Ironheart beckons, but if I take it I’ll never relinquish it. I’m breaking, and I don’t want my closest friend to have to see it.

“I’m sorry, my Warchief. I’m failing you. Please…please let me mourn alone.”

“Ryxl, look at me.”

Turn my head to the right, wiping my eyes, open them finally to see nothing where I expected Thrall to be. The hand on my shoulder is not green. The arm leads to the cot. The eyes are brown, dark and filled with remorse.

Whatever’s left of me breaks. I cling to him, face pressed against his chest, his arms holding me to him with crushing force. I can hear his voice as a comforting rumble, but the words make no sense; my cries of long-repressed longing and pain drown everything. Couldn’t hold the flood back even if I wanted to – don’t resist, let it all out. The broken shards of myself I’d been holding together for three years I let fall at last, secure in the trust that he will catch them and keep them safe.

==============

“Ryxl?” Thrall peered into the small room, a bit alarmed that he didn’t see his Champion and friend inside. Then motion drew his eyes to the body lying on the cot.

“She’s here,” a low, quiet voice said. The brown head turned slowly to see who had spoken. “Warchief!”

Thrall stepped inside and sat on the chair Ryxl had occupied recently. “I’m glad to see you alive and well,” he said with heavy solemnity. From this vantage, he could see Ryxl curled up at the Mag’har’s side. A faint smile curved his lips. “I assume she already knows that you are alive.”

The Mag’har craned his head awkwardly to look at her. “How long was I dead?”

“Close to a year. It was…not easy on her.”

“I know. She cried. I think…” He bit his lip and turned to the Warchief again. “I think that’s what brought me back. She…talked to me, thinking it was you. She said she had nothing left.”

Thrall’s serious blue eyes met the Mag’har’s equally serious brown ones. “I came to check on her because I was worried for that same reason. How is she now?”

One brown arm tightened around Ryxl’s body. “She cried. I tried to reassure her. She fell asleep.”

“At least she’s sleeping,” Thrall said dryly. “How are you doing?”

“I’m not sure. I haven’t been awake all that long. Worried, I guess.”

“For her?”

“And for how the world will react to me. I…know the things I did, Warchief. I know how badly I sullied my father’s name. What place does Deathbringer Saurfang have in the world?”

“None,” Thrall rumbled sternly. “Because he’s dead. Sarok, on the other hand, is very much alive and, if he’s wise, will remain that way.”

The Mag’har’s eyes widened. “Warchief?”

“She went through a lot to get you back, son of Saurfang. I’ve placed the Earthmother’s Rebirth on you. I’ve been told it’s not a pleasant experience. If you die again, you will not remain so for long.” He smiled again, more grim than reassuring. “Call it insurance on my Champion’s investment.”

Sarok swallowed “Is that why I’m alive? Ryxl…”

“She asked my permission to retrieve your body and soul from the Lich King. I gave it.”

Brown eyes closed on tears that couldn’t be stopped. “I am unworthy.”

“She thinks otherwise.”

“I owe her my life. I’m in no hurry to return to the dead.”

“Good.” Thrall’s expression softened. “When she wakes, tell her I expect her to return to her duties within the week and show me progress by the end of a month. I trust there will be no complaints if your sickbed is moved to her quarters?”

The Mag’har’s cheeks darkened slightly. “Ah…no, Warchief. No complaints at all.”

Smiling faintly, Thrall left the room with a much lighter heart.

==============

 

Ryxl drifted happily on a firm, warm surface, feeling her strained and abraded psyche knit itself back together. When that warmth rumbled her name, she grumbled and nuzzled it.

“Hey,” the voice said softly. “It’s not fair if we’re in bed together but I’m the only one awake.”

For a moment, recent past tore at her heart – but then she remembered brown eyes where she had expected blue, and relief soothed the soreness away.

“Sarok,” she breathed. “You’re alive.”

“I’m alive,” repeated, voice strained somehow.

Suddenly, she sat up. “I should report to Thrall.”

“He knows. He came to check on you.” He frowned slightly. “He said he expects you to return to your duties within the week, and show him progress in a month.”

The look that Ryxl gave him made his loins heat; he’d seen it often enough, but never aimed at him.

“I want your child,” she said bluntly, one hand already moving to the laces of her leggings. “Do you have any objections to a son?”

“None at all,” he murmured, somewhat in awe of his body’s willingness to obey.

The leggings came off; the tunic followed a breath later and suddenly, his only objection was that she wasn’t already riding him.

Then that ceased to be an issue.

==============
 

“Ryxl…”

She snuggled closer, cheek pressed against his chest. “Shhh. I’m enjoying this.”

“But…”

“No buts. You’re alive and I’m carrying your son; all is right in the world.”

Sarok son of Saurfang pushed Ryxl far enough away to look her in the eyes. “Are you sure that’s wise? The things I did…”

Ryxl propped herself up on one elbow and prodded fiercely at his chest. “I have not been living in ignorance these past three years; I know what you did. And what I did, son of Saurfang, was to engineer the Lich King’s downfall to get you back. Besides,” she added, snuggling close again, “he’ll be carrying my name, not yours.”

He closed his mouth on the words that probably not have been wise, and tried again. “Why?”

“Because he’ll be a Champion, and the name of Ironheart is already associated with that.”

“That’s not what I meant. Why did you go through all of that to bring me back?”

She closed her eyes against the memory of his lifeless body. “Because I love you. I just didn’t realize how much you meant to me until…” She pressed her face against his chest, and his arms tightened around her. “…until I didn’t have you anymore.”

“Ryxl…”

“You asked me to hunt with you. I said yes.” The words were uttered with finality.

“I withheld your pleasure until you begged, asked you to hunt with me, and then pushed you over the edge.”

“Sarok?”

“…yes?”

“I cried when I saw you fall. I cried again when I had to tell your father that not only did his son fall in battle, but that his body had been taken by the Lich King. And I cried a third time when I gave up hope that you would return to life. So stop arguing with me, regain your strength, and let’s go hunting because I want you as my mate more than I have ever wanted anything in my life.”

He didn’t bother questioning her words; he knew all too well that Ryxl had earned her mother’s surname. For several minutes he just held her, silently thanking the spirits and ancestors that his plot had worked.

“So…your surname, huh?”

“Yep.”

Quietly, he asked, “Does my father know?”

“I brought you back. I think his grandson bearing my name instead of his is a small enough price to pay for that.”

“Does he know you brought me back?”

Ryxl stilled in his arms. “Thrall will have sent a messenger by now to call him back to Orgrimmar. It’s a month there and a month back, and I expect it will take a month to put affairs in Warsong Hold in order enough to leave.”

“I’ve got three months, then, before I’ll have to face my father, knowing that he knows the things I did while…”

Again, Ryxl reared back and prodded his chest fiercely. “You know the things he did under the demon’s blood curse. Do you love and respect him any less for that?”

Sarok gaped for a moment. “…no.”

“You are his son, Sarok. His only child. You cannot think he will be anything short of overjoyed that you have not preceded him.”

“I sullied his name,” he insisted, jaw set.

“And that’s the other reason our son will bear mine. I took down Deathbringer Saurfang and by now, half the world knows it.”

He gathered her back into his arms, held her against his chest. “I tried to kill you. I remember that.”

“I counted on it. I counted on the Lich King wanting to break you by making you kill me. But he didn’t count on how much I wanted you back. I won; he lost.”

“What happened?” Sarok asked hesitantly.

“He had…keepers,” she answered slowly. “He was to be a weapon of the Legion, but he fought the yoke and won his freedom with their blood. I made a deal with the one that survived. In exchange for his assistance in the fight, he could have the Lich King’s soul to take back to his master.”

Too many times, he’d heard Champion Ironheart in Ryxl’s voice. Whatever she was covering up, he elected not to pry. “There is one demand I have,” he said slowly. “I know what you do for the Warchief, and why. It doesn’t bother me. I want you as my mate anyway.”

“…but?”

“But if we’re in the same area, I expect it to be me unless I am physically incapable of the act.”

Again, she stilled in his arms. “And if I’m away from you?”

He hugged her closer. “Do what you need to do. You brought the Lich King down to get me back; I’m hardly afraid your heart will wander.” Grinning, he added, “Besides…the first time I got you in bed, I secured your promise to hunt with me. The second time, you conceived my child. I’d say that no matter who you’ve slept with, or how often, I was better.”

Ryxl laughed.

“If you have to go on Horde business, tell me stories of your conquests when you get back,” he said gently.

“You’re sure you want to hear that?”

Sarok grinned around his tusks. “I want to know exactly who I’m better in bed than. Every other guy you screw, and then come back to me after, is a man I have indirectly bested. I’d want to hear tales of who my mate beat in a fight, because her glory adds to mine. But knowing that you chose me over all the others you’ve had…that’s even better.” When she made no response, he lifted her chin gently. “Ryxl, it doesn’t bother me. You never made any pretense of monogamy, and I had no illusions that that would change. You are fierce and proud and strong, and I am humbled that you care so much for me that you brought me back from worse than death. You have a duty to the Warchief; I expect you to fulfill it with the same strength and pride and ferocity that you always have. To do any less would dishonor him, and yourself, and me.”

“How,” Ryxl asked, one eyebrow raised, “does my not having sex with other men dishonor my mate?”

“Because it means you are shirking your duty because of what you think I may feel. A warrior does not choose a mate with the intent to change her behavior; a warrior chooses a mate based on her actions. I don’t want you to change for me, and I don’t want you to think you have to. If one of us is going to be dominant over the other…” he grinned. “You brought down Deathbringer Saurfang, and our son will bear your name. I am perfectly content to follow where you lead.”

She thought about that for a minute.

“If you’re comfortable with me acting properly for the alpha female of a significantly-sized group of raptors…”

He shifted so that she was nestled more comfortably against him. “If that’s how you’ve been acting, then keep acting like that because it’s part of the woman I love.”

Ryxl laughed softly. “Welcome to the pack, Sarok son of Saurfang.”

“So what’s my status in the pack?”

“Once we’re mated, you’ll rank just below Takk.”

“Takk outranks me?” Sarok contrived to sound hurt, but failed.

Ryxl didn’t even pretend to not be amused. “Well, he has seniority.”

“Is there anyone he doesn’t outrank?” This…this easy banter, this was the woman he’d despaired of ever seeing again. Sarok didn’t care what either of them had been through for the last three…four?...years. Their friendship was intact, if not stronger, and for the moment the comfort of that familiarity outweighed anything else.

“Me.” She grinned. “And Thrall.”

“He’s part of the pack?”

“Ultimate Packleader. It’s the raptor equivalent to Warchief.”

“Is there anyone I will outrank?”

Ryxl smiled against his chest. “Everyone else.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

“When you’re back to yourself, I’ll take you around town and introduce you to my regulars. Get your reputation started right.”

Her regulars. Meaning the ones she slept with most, men who knew and obeyed her rules.

“If any of them throw a fit…do I get to beat them up, or do you?”

She thought about that.

“You do, but wait for my word.”

“Excellent.”

She laughed, feeling as he did – that this return to their normal banter was a salve soothing the hurts of everything they’d endured since the assault on the Wrathgate.

“You know why I never slept with you.”

“Because of who my father was.”

“When I was young to the Horde, Thrall assigned my combat training to him. Raptors don’t much connect with their sires unless something in the hatchling is outstanding and the father takes special interest in the hatchling and trains it. In a way, your father became my surrogate father. After the Wrathgate…” She paused to swallow pain that had no relevance anymore. “We became closer because of your loss. I told him you’d asked me to hunt, and that I’d said yes. He told me that as far as he was concerned, that made me his adopted daughter.”

His arms tightened slightly, holding Ryxl for his comfort rather than hers. “Father…you’re right, Ryxl. He won’t care what I…what the Deathbringer did. Just that his son is alive.”

“And that he’s going to be a grandfather.”

Sarok sat up as much as he could. “You said our son is going to be a Champion…and you’re pretty damned confident that you’re carrying a son even though it hasn’t been more than an hour since… Ryxl, did you use the dagger?”

Slowly, she sat up to look at him. “The spirits give, and the spirits take away. I’m barren unless I use the magic that caused my conception.”

“You’re also never in one place more than a few months, and you’ve never mentioned wanting a child before. Why now?”

She looked away. “Thrall has a daughter. She’ll need a Champion if she’s to become Warchief.”

That made him blink as the implication hit him. “I’m honored that you chose me. I think I can deal with the things Deathbringer Saurfang did by balancing it out with the honor my son will bring to the family. I…” He stopped, fighting back sudden tears of gratitude.

Ryxl lay back down beside him, silent for a long moment as he held her close with arms that trembled.

“I can deal with having a child as long as it’s yours,” she murmured into his chest.

His breath caught. In a voice tight with awe, he whispered, “I’m going to be a father.”

“And I’m going to be a mother,” she replied, her own voice right with equal parts resignation and determination.

“You’ll be fine.”

“I don’t know how to be a mother. Mine hated me and I was raised by trolls and raptors.”

He stroked her hair and repeated, “You’ll be fine. You’re not alone. You’ll have me, and Takk, and my father. If we can’t raise a good warrior between the four of us, I’ll paint myself red and join the Illidari.” Sarok paused. “…or what’s left of them.”

“Probably not much.”

“I’ll paint myself pink and enlist in the Stormwind Royal Guard?”

Ryxl laughed. “Your common’s not good enough for that.”

“Just as well,” he chuckled. “I’m not sure I could stand drinking that piss they call ale.”

“Says the man who can’t even handle a little Frog Venom Brew.”

“Oh, don’t you start on that crazy swill trolls drink.”

“Not my fault your tastes are so limited.”

“Not my fault I’m not crazy enough to drink it, you mean.”

“You think trollish booze is bad, you should try the stuff Forsaken drink.”

Sarok shuddered. “I’d rather not.”

“Well, in their defense, they have a hard time actually tasting.” Ryxl considered for a moment. “Very creative aside from that, though. Sarok?”

“Mm?”

“There’s one story I won’t be able to tell you. I swore on the soul of my mother and the raptor that ate her that I wouldn’t tell anyone – not even Thrall. If you meet, and he chooses to tell you, well…I trust you’ll understand at that point.”

“That good, hmm?” The Mag’har yawned. “I look forward to someday finding out from him, but in the meantime I’m exhausted.”

Ryxl shifted, kissed him lightly, and climbed off the cot. “Sleep. I’ll make sure there’s food for you when you wake up, and see about getting you moved into my rooms.”

“Thrall…did mention that…” He yawned again. Before he could voice a desire for her to not leave, a weight appeared on his legs. Looking awkwardly, he could make out the coils of Arikara’s body as she settled down.

Sarok relaxed. With the vengeance-spirit guarding him, he had no fear that the last few years would haunt his sleep.