Sasha’s entire family was waiting, as the cart slowed in the cobbled street, by the front of her thatched-roofed cottage. The driver helped her from the cart and deposited her pack beside her, then it slowly rolled away. Leaving her to an awkward silence. The young woman found she could not bear to meet her Father’s eyes, so she bit her bottom lip, and looked down, waiting for his anger to come. All she felt was the warm crush of his arms encircling her, and a hand gently stroking the hair on the top of her head.
“Oh my beautiful girl never, never, do that again.” Were all the words he had. Words delivered without a trace of anger. Just the gratefulness, and relief, of a father who was so glad to have his only, beloved child home, and whole.
Sasha stood with her concerned and loving relatives before the doorway and felt the tears cascade down her face until she was escorted indoors.
*****
The intrepid young woman could hardly believe she had not been scolded for her brash actions, as she sat on her bed, looking out of her open window. The bright sunlight cascaded in, to place a spotlight on the floor. She tried to draw comfort from the normalcy of the sounds of the city below. Yes, after many weeks she was home, but she didn’t know if she felt at all comfortable, she was incontrovertibly changed. She could hear people walking the sidewalks conversing, children playing, birds called, and the street vendors hawked their wares. However, could she after her adventure be part of society again?
She gazed about her room, it was a pleasant space, made more so by all the eclectic treasures she had collected over her short lifetime. Looking about her, it was as though she had never made that incredible journey. All in her room was exactly how she had left it, and if it was not for the presence of her pack, and her new bow and quiver, it would be as though her great big adventure and her mighty love had never happened at all.
There lay Graham’s diamond ring on her writing desk, just as she had left it. She rose, taking it up and studying it in the palm of her hand. The single-faceted gem felt large and cold, much like she felt a life of marriage to Graham Trias would be. Sasha had promised though, if she could not succeed in her quest, that she would honor Graham’s proposal. However, she could not bear to slide it onto her finger, at least just yet.
Not everything though was as it had been before. She smiled as she registered three almost identical envelopes lying there. Unopened letters from her cousin Erin. She gathered them up and again sat on her bed, tearing open the first one so she may hear of her cousin’s news. Erin had so much to tell, and Sasha was absorbed in the first missive detailing everything her cousin had learned or struggled with since entering the teachings of the Kirin Tor. She had even met with Lady Jaina Proudmoore!
Sasha was glad Erin had fared so well, and it was most obvious from the tangent of these letters Erin had not been informed of Sasha’s disappearance. It was just as well the young woman mused, as she didn’t wish for her dearest relative to be distracted from her most important studies.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw something move as she made to open the next letter. At first, she thought it was the door, either someone wishing to enter unannounced, or perhaps the movement of the wind, as her window stood open. She studied the room intently and was just about to go back to her reading when the movement happened again, this time accompanied by a high-pitched wine. Her pack teetered, and then fell over, with a loud thump on the wooden floor.
Sasha rose swiftly and loosed the straps that held it shut, whatever was inside was struggling now profusely. As the top opened a shock of snow- white fur tumbled from the bag, and Frostfyre stood shaking herself before her looking rather indignant.
The aspiring hunter’s heart soared, and she knew this must have been the work of her beloved. She had no idea how he had managed to keep Frostfyre so calm and still all those hours in the pack. That would possibly forever remain a mystery. He had, despite the raging battle, made sure that Frostfyre would be safe, and that Sasha had finally got her wish of a worg companion. She felt a rush of huge, warm, love for Gorthan in that moment, followed by worry that tore at her sensibilities, so much so that tears flowed.
Where was her love, was he safe? Did he survive the crush of King Wrynn’s onslaught? She hoped so, his loss from her world was too terrible to bear.
The pup looked at her quizzically and ran to her, licking her face with a rapturous joy. Sasha responded in kind, Frostfyre was at least safe.
She again rummaged through the heavy pack, it mostly contained clothing, supplies, and a rather large canteen of water, and then at the bottom, her fingertips struck something familiar, well worn and smooth. She withdrew the item, it was Gorthan’s, mother’s bone comb. She was sure he had placed it there, that she may never forget. She held it to her breast and cried for her love, while Frostfyre sensing her human’s pain licked away her tears.
“Is everything all right?” Aunt Evelyn’s face peered about her niece’s bedroom door, her voice concerned.
Sasha jumped, startled at her Aunt’s unwelcome intrusion.
“Devin... you need to see this,” Evelyn called, her voice laden with concern. Almost immediately the sound of heavy footsteps ascending the wooden stairs. Sasha looked at her Aunt wordless knowing the next conversation she had with her Father was not going to be easy.
Devin Wrynn closed the door behind him, as he took his daughter and her canine companion in. At first, he seemed almost amused at the sight before him, that was at least until the realization struck him.
“That pup is not a wolf.” He said sternly.
Sasha was tempted to argue and tell an outright lie, but her Father was no fool. She could not hide from his keen eyes that Frostfyre was indeed an orcish war worg.
“I know,” she said sheepishly, “but she’s a runt, I saved her life.”
“Runt or no runt worgs are not like dogs or wolves my girl.”
“Frostfyre is different Father,” Sasha replied, sensing at once her Father’s disapproval.
Devin Wrynn squatted down that he might be level with his teenage daughter to have this difficult conversation. He looked both sad and serious. His dark eyes so like her own bored into hers, and it came as a shock to Sasha as she registered the white beginning to creep into her father’s raven-dark hair. At once she felt guilt for the summer of worry she knew she had put him through.
“I know, baby girl, you have been through much, the doctor told me, but you can’t keep a worg here. Maybe we can get you a dog, any breed you like, would you like that?”
Sasha protectively pulled Frostfyre into her embrace, the pup squirmed and growled in protest. There was no way she was giving her up.
“Worgs grow to be fierce and dangerous beasts Sasha, you know that. It’s not feasible to keep one in the city.”
“So do lions,” she pouted. “I won’t give her up. I will run away and live like old Abercrombie in Duskwood if I have to.”
“Be reasonable my girl.” Devin entreated.
“I mean it Father, Frostfyre is mind melded to me!” The statement was not quite true but Sasha was not going to be parted from her hard, won prize, even if she had to be deceptive. There were times though when she was sure she could feel Frostfyre’s thoughts, and even if it wasn't true she fully intended to work on it later.
Devin’s brow furrowed in deep thought, as he rubbed at this stubbled chin and sighed. He hated to hurt his daughter already more than she had been. He had never known of a human mind-melding with a worg, it was highly unusual, and even a little improbable, but he let his reasoning slide. “All right she can stay...but.”
“Thank you, Father,” Sasha interjected.
“But...there are conditions.”
Sasha didn’t like the sound of that, but she gave him the respect and did not further interject.
“If she does anything untoward at all then you cannot keep her understood, and I really mean that Sasha. Not only that, but it would be best if she isn't seen, the people here will just not understand.”
“Yes, Father.”
It was not quite the victory she wanted, but it was a victory nonetheless.
*****
From that day forward Sasha and Frostfyre were inseparable. They slept, ate, and played together. To begin with, her father’s lion Thane had disliked the worg pup, he would bristle and growl as the young puppy would approach to try and initiate play. A worg was after all to the great Thane something of the enemy, he had killed many of its kind on the battlefield, but after a time a truce was made, and a friendship forged between the animals. Frostfyre would curl into Thane’s tawny bulk and use him as a cushion, other times his tufted tail was no more than a chew toy.
Being a beast master hunter her Father was amused at the companion animal's antics, but sadly, even though Evelyn and Benjamin tried to be accommodating, it was a difficult adjustment. Aunt Evelyn especially was afraid of the worg, they represented killers to her way of thinking and could be no more than that.
Young Sasha felt guilty that she had done this to her family, and wished she had a more palatable answer to their situation, but she would not give her dear Frostfyre up. The ramifications of her adventure could not so easily be undone.
Not only that but as Frostfyre grew, even if she was a runt by orc standards, she was far bigger than any normal gray wolf that roamed in the surrounding Elwynn forest. In no time the half-grown Frostfyre began to dwarf her diminutive mistress, and the tiny stone courtyard, covered in rampaging greenery that adjoined their homely cottage was far too small for her adequately to run and play. To make the situation worse Frostfyre insisted on terrorizing her Aunt’s six chickens.
Her family had treated her differently as well since her return. They were careful about her, and Sasha knew that she was often the topic of concerned conversation in hushed voices behind closed doors. She had never felt uncomfortable around her family before, and she didn’t like the feeling. She wished she had a mother she could have spoken to and confided in during this awkward time, perhaps that could have made her situation easier. She loved her Aunt, but they had really never seen eye to eye.
Her dear Father though had been nothing but kind and patient, even going so far as to address the chicken and worg catastrophe, by fashioning a leather muzzle to conceal Frostfyre’s newly emerging tusks. Enabling Sasha to take her companion on long walks to the park, without suspicion from non understanding locals. Yet there were those who still gossiped of the poor girl who had been forcibly taken, and raped by the savage orc horde.
She overheard them sometimes as she walked. They thought she could not hear their misguided stories. She wished she could have corrected their one-sided views. Even her own family didn’t understand, she had gone to Stonewatch of her own volition she had found acceptance in Gorthan and love. She dared not tell them though, they would think her mad, and she was afraid that even with good intentions she may be locked away.
Orcs and humans were sworn enemies, and all her Father had said was sometimes captives fell for their abductors, and it was a normal psychological process. Sasha knew though what she had felt was deep love. One that could endure a lifetime. She still thought of Gorthan every day, the way he felt against her, the way he spoke, and the moments and joys they had shared.
Her Aunt constantly asked her if she felt all right. To begin with, Sasha didn’t understand Evelyn’s sudden fixation with her health. Of course, she felt fine, if she didn’t count her secret heartbreak at her separation that was.
With time it came to her knowledge that her medical examination of that night had revealed that she was no longer a virgin. She was very angry at this invasion of her privacy. That cunning Doctor had drugged her with the lotus, and in due course had discovered that truth. An event that made her feel more defiled than anything the orcs had ever done to her. It was a strange irony.
So that’s what they were all concerned with, that she might be carrying a half-orc child. Oh, the scandal and shame! However Sasha knew that there was no child in her belly, and she felt perfectly normal, and after a time her family’s fears were allayed, and the strange obsession with her health abated. Of that she was glad, but there were other problems.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
Graham Trias still visited frequently, if people spoke badly of Sasha it had not seemed to affect his enthusiasm for her in the least. He brought gifts of flowers, wine, and of course fine cheese, and he talked of the beautiful home they would have, and how they would run the cheese empire together. Sasha had again condescended to her family’s wishes and donned his ring, though the wedding date had not been set.
Sasha tried to tell herself that her love for Gorthan would fade given time, after all, there was no world where humans and orcs could live together, and that it was for the best that she settled down here in Stormwind. Graham after all had accepted her despite her social stigma, but most of all he had accepted the presence of Frostfyre. That was good enough for Sasha, at least that's what she consoled herself with.
*****
It was the beginning of fall, the leaves had begun to look tired on the big trees that canopied the park, and the grass felt dry underfoot, except about the pond, or in the dark recesses of the trees. Sasha had been for her usual late afternoon stroll with her pup by her side, as she did so she thought of Elwynn forest and her former freedom, and wondered rather morosely if she would ever adventure there again.
As she passed an unusually huge elm tree, her eyes were drawn to a bright poster that had recently been attached to its trunk. ‘King Wrynn’s Great Triumph’ it said in bold black lettering. ‘All are welcome to attend, to be held the fifteenth day of September.’
The poster filled her with both hope and dread. The young woman had never witnessed the spectacle of a Triumph. She was not sure one had been held in her lifetime, maybe not even in her Father’s. She had read about them in books though, and studied such events in history class. Knowing King Wrynn, it would be a bold spectacle and a costly one. She was not sure that would be a popular move given the current mood of the populace, and the deteriorating situation in Westfall, but then she was no politician. There would be much pomp and ceremony, huge crowds lining the streets, and a great big mess for the street sweepers to clean up afterward. They would parade the captives, and the executions would follow.
She touched Frostfyre’s head, ruffling her snow-white pelt, seeking the comfort to be had from her canine companion. She knew her family would wish to see such a spectacle, but she hoped she could be excused and stay home. She wanted no part of it.
A couple passed her in the park, they stared and whispered thinking she was out of earshot. “That’s the orc lover...”
Sasha lowered her eyes and decided to hurry for home, she wished she could be away from this city and its unkind prejudices.
Just as she had headed inside and was relieving Frostfyre of her muzzle, her Aunt met her in the parlor. Her cheeks flushed with high excitement.
“Sasha, the King’s messenger arrived for you while you were out, he left you a scroll. Everyone’s waiting for you to open it.”
Sasha gazed at her Aunt blankly as she followed her into the well-lit kitchen. It was hot, so the usually ever-present fire was extinguished in the range. Her Father and Uncle were lounging at the table, drinking ale, doing their best to look calm, but it was not every day one received a summons from the King.
“It seems you have been noticed, my girl.” Devin Wrynn said proudly.
She smiled at her Papa, as she felt the first nervous flutter twist her stomach.
“Open it, girl, we are all dying to see what it says.”
She picked up the missive hesitantly, it bore the Royal wax seal of his Majesty. The paper was heavy and fine. She hesitated and then broke the lion’s head seal, the scroll opened and she read the beautifully penned words.
‘You are cordially invited, to receive by the hand of the King, a commendation of bravery, on the fifteenth of September, at the Grand triumph, and to be a guest at the King’s and the Crown Prince’s reception, and feast to be held afterward.’
Sasha was speechless, and her family crowding about asking her what did it say? Finally, her father took the scroll and read it aloud to the others.
“My, my,” Aunt Evelyn puffed, her cheeks flushed with excitement that reddened her skin all the way down to her plump breast.
Her Father beamed at her, he looked so proud, in that moment.
Sasha didn’t want all this attention, and she didn’t know what to say. So she just pet Frostfyre on her head and let her family vent their excitement.
“We must get you something nice to wear.” Evelyn cooed. “We don’t want you going in front of the King dressed like a boy.”
“Great job Sasha!” Uncle Benjamin congratulated, toasting her with his half-drunk mug of ale.
“You do me proud,” her Father said and hugged her tightly.
She closed her eyes and leaned ant into him, her Father’s praise was always the sweetest music to her. However she wasn't brave, she hadn't done anything remotely of worth. She hadn't even managed to escape with valuable intelligence. She didn’t want to attend this ghastly spectacle, but she did not give voice to that thought, as she knew her family was expecting her to. Not only that but perhaps the ‘honor,’ dubious as it was, might go some way to healing some of the damage she had done. She owed that much to her family.
*****
The sun rose to a clear, bright blue sky on the King’s Triumph day. Even the weather was afraid to displease the powerful man. In truth though, the summer this year had been unseasonably dry and hot. The cityscape baked under the scorching sun, and even in the evenings the stone burned hotly to the touch. Though the war in Redridge was won, over in Westfall many of the crops had turned to dust, and there was talk of famine.
Sasha gazed at the emerald green, satin dress, heavily embroidered with the finest gold thread, that lay spread across her bed. She ran her hands across the lovely fabric, it was something a princess would wear. This was an extravagance to be sure. The fitting for the grand garment had occupied both her and her Aunt Evelyn’s last few days, as the older woman fussed incessantly. Shortly it would be time to don it and go forth to the ugly, public display she so dreaded. She could hear the occupants of the little cottage beginning to stir. It seemed everyone was excited, but her.
*****
The Triumph was every bit the spectacle that Sasha’s creative mind had imagined. The streets were festooned with banners covered in Stormwind lions and the King’s colors. A sea of royal blue was everywhere, a stark contrast to the light gray stone walls that abounded in the city. The procession was to begin at the city gates, wind through the commercial district, and ultimately end at the foot of the palace before the King and the Prince.
Sasha and her family, being one of the invited guests, were positioned just below the dais, where the King and his teenage son sat under a fluttering blue and gold canopy. The enormous stone fountain in the King's likeness stood resolute behind them. Life mirroring art.
Leading the procession were the performers, musicians, dance troupes, jugglers, and clowns. Following them, a cortege of exotic animals that were usually housed in the King’s private menagerie. This part of the parade absorbed her. There were wolves, tigers, shaggy white mountain rams, and even a giant clefthoof that shook the ground as it walked. However, best of all Sasha got to see a wind-serpent. Her love had not lied to her after all, this beast was not a creature of myth. She tried to imagine Gorthan’s fierce mother and her wind-serpent companion, the thought made her smile.
Behind the beasts came the ranks of fighting men, led by the knights and their squires on fine horses, resplendent. People cheered and threw flowers, and the armed men waved back at the adoring crowd. Ranks of pikemen and foot soldiers followed. An extra loud cheer went up as the carts of soldiers, too injured and weak to walk or ride on horseback passed by, these men were the true heroes of the war, and the people appreciated their presence and applauded loudly.
There were so many wounded, Sasha reflected, the orcs had extracted a high price for this victory. She heard her father call out to one of his mates in the procession, it looked as though the poor fellow had lost his leg. She winced when she thought of the great axe that had probably cleaved him to the bone.
It was not long before the part of the day she had dreaded was before her. The orc captives, the survivors of the battlefield. This was what the populace had come to see, the enemy up close, and to gloat at their subjugation. There were so many of the poor wretches, loaded down with heavy chains, joined to one other. Some were badly injured, others walked proudly, their eyes still burning with the fires of revenge. Her raven’s eyes searched among them for her troll companions, and mostly for him.
Sasha found she could hardly draw breath, as the captured orc warriors passed before her, her eyes madly seeking the one she loved. She really had not expected to see him at all, and yet unbelievably there he was! She would have known that full mane of midnight hair anywhere!
Her heart lurched in her chest but she remained silent, vowing that she would entreat the King on Gorthan’s behalf this evening at the ceremony. He still looked strong and fierce, she wished he would notice her in the crowd. However, he only stared fixedly ahead. She so desired to give him hope, but he was lost in the milling crowd in mere moments. He did not look injured, and at that realization, her heart soared. She would see him freed.
“Are you alright my girl?” Her Father questioned with concern. He must have felt the pressure her hand was subconsciously exerting on his arm, as she spied her love among the captured.
Sasha did not speak, she simply nodded to appease him. She found it hard to concentrate after sighting him. He was still as magnificent as ever, even in his captivity. Try as she might though, she could not find Utaki nor Taz’jani in the press of the many prisoners. She wondered at their fate and felt wretched, there was nothing better she could have done that fateful night.
Lastly came the captured generals, mostly older, gnarled, and battle-scarred orcs who looked unafraid to die, as they stared defiantly at the jeering crowd. To her surprise, their leader Gath’llzogg was conspicuous by his absence.
It was obvious as she watched the crowd cheer, most, didn’t understand the details of the recent Blackrock skirmish, and were none the wiser. They were just content that there would be some orc executions in a few day's time.
She didn’t want to think about that, so she turned to her Father with a question that troubled her. “Where is Gath’llzogg?”
She could barely hear her Father’s reply over the noise of the crowd.
“The leader’s probably brokered some kind of deal baby girl, it looks like he lives to fight another day. But those poor wretches won’t.”
The outcome seemed so unfair to her. “Will any of the other prisoners be executed Papa?”
“Probably, to set an example. King Wrynn is a very strict King after all, and the rest will probably be sent to labor camps, far from our fair city.”
“Oh,” Sasha said with sadness, doing her best to sound casual, inside she felt a rising panic.
“Do not be so sad my girl, today is your day!” He smiled at her and tweaked her playfully on her button nose.
She did her best to form a fake smile at her Father’s silliness, but she was worried at Gorthan’s fate, wondering if the prisoners would be selected at random to be beheaded in the town square, or if there was some other criteria that would help their jailers choose?
At last, the great parade had come to closure, and the crowds were slowly dispersing back to their lives. The invited guests were instructed by the King’s staff to move toward the keep to be admitted to the ceremony to follow. Sasha and her Father bid goodbye to Evelyn and Benjamin, as she only had permission to bring one guest. However she was fine with that, there was no one else she would have rather chosen, than her dear Papa.
Stormwind Keep was an immense stone structure, one of the largest castles in all the land. Sasha had been guilty of studying it during her frequent sojourns to the park, wondering what really went on within its walls, but she had never been inside. So she did feel a twinge of excitement, as they were escorted along with many other recipients into a cavernous hall.
Before her were the twin thrones, surrounded by two great stone lions, which sat to the end of a richly brocaded blue and gold carpet. They were at this time empty. She assumed the Royals would appear after everyone was seated.
It took some time before the gaily dressed multitudes were all in their appropriate places. Sasha could sight all the Lords and Ladies in their rich finery, though she didn’t feel at all out of place, thanks to her Aunt’s exquisite sense of judgment over her dress selection. Her gown was just as beautiful as many of the fine Ladies of the court, many complimented her on it. Sasha reminded herself to thank her Aunt later, at the time she had not understood just how important her attire would be.
She felt her father’s warmth as she held onto his arm, she looked at him and he returned a reassuring smile. He was very proud of her, even if her adventure was born of mischief. She loved that about him, he was not like so many, constricted by the strictures of society. She was proud to have him as family.
The King and the Prince made their grand entrance to a trumpeted fanfare and took their places. They hardly looked like father and son, King Varian so brooding and dark, and his young son Anduin almost goldenly angelic. Though Sasha could plainly see they shared the same, cold, blue eyes.
There was much ceremony and talk from their ruler, in a commanding voice he spoke of the war, the bravery of his men, and the crushing defeat of the enemy. He spoke of the city and the future, he was a consummate politician.
Sasha could see there were assembled many dignitaries from all over Azeroth, who sat close to the podium. She wondered if the burgundy-haired, and most debonair man with the green eyes was the legendary Mathias Shaw? She could hardly take her eyes from the beauteous, lean form of Tyrande Whisperwind, leader of the night elf sentinels. She wore the most lovely dress of pure white mooncloth, it was almost translucent and glowed with an ethereal pallor. She was both fascinating and arresting to the young woman.
The awards ceremony was lengthy, and the recipients were called in alphabetical order, so Sasha would be one of the last to receive the King’s honors. The closer the announcer got to the letter W the more nervous she became. She must tell the King of her lover’s plight, he could not be executed, or sent to a faraway prison of hopelessness. She must intercede, surely he would listen.
Finally, her name was called, and she felt her father gently nudge her forward for her first tentative step, as she made the promenade nervously to where the King stood. She curtsied as she had practiced. Up close he was more arresting and fearsome than ever. His intense pale blue eyes fell on her, and she had to steel her resolve to speak out. She could not take her eyes from the livid scar that ran all the way across his face and bridge of his nose, and the other that cut across his forehead to slice his left cheek. He had been a gladiator once, they had called him Lo’gosh the Wolf, he was striking, and fierce, in that same way Gorthan was. She could see why the people both feared and respected him.
His eyes at first were on the list of names, a small hint of a smile softened his features as he looked down at the pretty, dark-haired slip of girl who stood before him, clad in emerald green. “Any relative?” He questioned, on the reading of her name, “if not you still seem to bear the Wrynn’s brave heart.”
“No, your Majesty,” Sasha replied shyly.
He then took from a tray his page boy was holding patiently, a golden lion medallion, that was suspended on a luxuriant blue velvet ribbon. He placed it about her neck.
Sasha almost breathless, decided that this would be her only moment. “Sire, I wanted to bring it to…”
The King, always aware of his need to direct an occasion, and to keep his people in check, seemed to sense something was about to go amiss. He spoke over the top of her quietly uttered words.
“Sasha Wrynn, for her incredible survival and courage shown after her abduction by the Blackrock Horde.”
The ensuing cheers were loud, drowning out anything else that she may have to say. The medal felt heavy against her slight breast, and the King’s attention had already moved on to the next recipient. Sasha's window of opportunity for a petition was over.
Unhappy with the outcome, she walked back to her Father’s side. He was oblivious to her pain, and she wanted to keep it that way. Sasha did her best to hide her upset from him for the remainder of the evening. She knew he wanted this to be a happy occasion.
Sasha kept her composure throughout the reception, though it was difficult, and she found she didn’t have much of an appetite. The food was glorious and varied, however, she could only think of her lost love and her friends, and all she wished was to return home to Frostfyre and her bed.