moonshadows

"Pink-skinned pig."

"Monster."

"I'm going to crush you."

"I'm going to hang your ugly head on my wall."

"You're no prettier, human."

Jaina and I exchange mutually horrified and resigned glances, and start elbowing our way through the crowd. Over the heads of the spectators, I can see my brother approaching from the direction of the Argent pavilion, and he does not look happy at all. I redouble my efforts, leaving the more gently-born ruler of Theramore behind, and break into the opening at the center just as Thrall shoulders the last onlookers aside. The two combatants - luckily, unarmed - are locked in a fierce embrace. Muscles strain on both sides, but they seem to be evenly matched.

"Garrosh!"

"Varian!"

Behind me, Jaina worms her way out of the crowd while Tirion steps out from behind my brother. The leader of the Warsong hesitates briefly at Thrall's bark but does not divert his attention from his opponent. The king of Stormwind, on the other hand, loses all concentration as I crack his name like a whip. Garrosh bellows triumphantly and hurls him against the hard-packed earth. Before he can follow up on this advantage, a very sharp and very bright sword blade is thrust between the two.

"Under my roof, gentlemen, you will behave."

Seeing the legendary Ashbringer just above him is enough to bring Varian to his senses, but it takes Thrall's not-so-subtle hefting of the Doomhammer to make Garrosh back off. Warily, the brash king climbs to his feet and a sharp motion of the Tirion’s sword encourages him to put more distance between himself and the son of Hellscream.

"We are here to fight the Scourge," Tirion says, voice slicing the air, "not each other. If you want to fight like a pair of starving dogs, you will do it elsewhere." He pauses to rake both men with scathing disdain. "Now, if you don't mind, the adults were talking."

The Highlord of the Argent Crusade stalks off in the direction he came, crowd parting before him.

"Garrosh."

Sullenly, the Mag'har slinks after Thrall as he follows Tirion, leaving the former gladiator to face my wrath alone. My glare spears each word as he opens his mouth to say it, leaving him silent and fidgeting like a naughty child while I stand with my arms crossed just as my mother used to. Jaina gestures, and the world blurs out and re-forms into what must be the common room of their quarters in the Alliance pavilion. Varian starts briefly, giving the sorceress an indignant look, but she ignores him and the door to her room slams behind her Slightly panicked now, he turns back to me, but my stony gaze strikes him hard enough that he winces.

"Taretha, I can-"

"You can what?" Again, he flinches as my voice cracks like a whip. "Explain? Explain how the king of Stormwind came to be grappling with an orc in public like a pair of children?" For shame, my lord. Have a handful of months undone years of civilized upbringing? Were you trained as a gladiator, my lord, or as a wild beast to be prodded at with sticks to make it fight another dumb animal in a pit?"

I pause for breath and to give him a chance to speak, but he only cringes and evades my eyes.

"You wanted to prove to me that you are not the same as Blackmoore? Oh, you have succeeded, my lord. Blackmoore would never have let an orc goad him into public brawling by sneering petty insults."

"But he said-"

"Said what? That you were a baby? A pig? That you looked like a monkey and smelled like one, too? That your smile gave children nightmares?"

That last comment apparently stings his pride enough to shake him out of his pit of humiliation. "Do you really think I’m that ugly when I smile?"

"Well, you won't be winning beauty pageants any time soon."

His face falls. "Why didn't you tell me that my smile was ugly?"

Arms still crossed, I raise one eyebrow. "Because that's what Blackmoore did to Thrall."

Wordlessly, he sinks into a chair and buries his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. I do not move and for a few minutes, there is silence.

"Well, I've certainly made a disgrace of myself this week," he says heavily, letting his hands drop at last. "I'm surprised you're still here; I would have left me to stew in my own juices. So..." Almost fearfully, he searches my face. "Is there anything I can do to redeem myself in your eyes?"

"No."

He gapes at me as though I'd slapped him. "No? Have you already passed judgment on me, then?"

I favor him with a cool look. "We leave at first light to return to Dalaran, where the Kirin Tor will be providing us magical passage back to Orgrimmar. If you had any plans, my lord, you have until dawn to put them in action."

He looks surprisingly horrified as I sweep out of the room. As I suspected, the layout of the Alliance and Horde pavilions are the same and within a minute I am at the door staring at Golthak's relieved face.

"Good, guessed right," he grunts.

In silence, we cross the tournament grounds. Only when we enter the private living area in the Horde pavilion does he speak up again.

"Thought you should know. Word on the grounds is that the king is in love with you. Especially after that demonstration."

I groan and rub my temples. "What are the Alliance saying about it?"

"They either think it's a good idea, or that you're somehow controlling his mind to topple Stormwind where the black dragon failed. Mostly that it's a good idea. They seem to think he needs a keeper." The smile that splits his face is faintly malicious.

"And the Horde?"

"Some are afraid he's controlling your mind somehow, but after you jerked his leash like that, I heard quiet betting on whether there would be a wedding, or a funeral."

"Am I the only one who doesn't want to see him court me?"

Jaina steps out of my room. "Looks like it, Tari."

"Blessed ancestors, what did I do to deserve this?"

Golthak and Jaina pat my shoulders, grinning.

"Okay," I sigh. "What did he say after I left?"

"Nothing. He did punch a wall, though."

"How manly."

"For what it's worth..." Jaina bites her lip, then breaks into a broad grin. "I've got five gold on him trying something before midnight."

Golthak laughs. "I'll put ten on past midnight but before dawn."

**************************

Orgrim's Hammer arrives in the fifth hour of the day, just as false dawn provides enough light to see. I stay out of the way as the crew swarm over the ship and pavilion, unpacking supplies and loading the possessions of the ones who were leaving. The night has been quiet, both before and after midnight, and despite myself I find that I keep scanning the dim grounds, searching for Varian's scarred face. The failed aspirants and wounded valiants file aboard, the last supplies are unloaded, and finally it is just Thrall, Garrosh, myself, and our escorts. The son of Hellscream wastes no time stomping aboard.

"Time to go, Tari," my brother rumbles, and we begin moving towards the gangplank as the first sliver of gleaming sun crests the horizon.

"Wait!"

I turn at the cry, and there's Varian, running for all he's worth. How he slipped the eye of his Royal Guards is a mystery.

"Taretha, wait!"

Thrall raises one eyebrow inquisitively at me as the brash king of Stormwind skids to a stop and pants heavily, holding his side.

"You owe me ten gold," I murmur to Golthak, who grunts sourly.

“Your Majesty, we have little time to chat.”

“A moment is all I need, Warchief,” Varian pants, distracted. “Taretha. I beg you. Don’t pass your judgment yet.”

The hand that had been curled up and pressed against his side is presented and opened to reveal a carved wooden figurine. It is a hawk, from a Hawks and Hares set, a piece that is often considered the weakest and underestimated, only to dismay opponents with its ferocity when used correctly. When I give him a questioning look, he presents his other hand and opens it to reveal another carved wooden figure, this one a hare. Normally a very strong piece, it is vulnerable to the ferocity of the hawk. At his insistent gesture, I take both pieces.

“You may not think of yourself as a warrior, but you do not shy from combat.” The scars on his face crease oddly as he gives me a mysterious smile. “I look forward to many more battles with you. Safe journey, my lady.”

“I told you, I’m not-“

“Of course,” he interrupts. “I haven’t forgotten. But until such time as those words are truth, I will continue to flatter you.”

Unsure as to what to make of this, I incline my head politely and he bows deeply to both myself and Thrall, then turns and begins walking back through the tournament grounds.

I follow my brother aboard the flying ship, hawk and hare warm in my hands from the heat of his, and for a moment I wish I had taken Varian up on the offer of playing a match.