Work Text:
“If I am discovered missing, then that will alert someone that something is going on. They might find and attack you first. And my parents are still there. Blackmoore would take out his anger on them, I am sure. No, Thrall,” I say, shaking my head slightly, “my place is, and always has been, at Durnholde, even now.”
“Tari.” He places his huge hands gently on my shoulders, looking so sad and serious. “When I left, I took your letters with me. But when I got caught and brought to one of the camps, they were taken from me along with everything else except your necklace.”
My blood turns to ice, and the panic starts clawing at me.
“He already knows, Tari. If you go back, he’ll kill you.”
I want to say, I know, but if I open my mouth I’ll start screaming, and I won’t be able to stop. One of the other orcs says something in his own language, and Thrall’s eyes narrow.
“Tari? I’m going to bring you back with us. Nod if this is okay.”
Jerkily, my head bobs up and down, and I am swung easily into Thrall’s thick green arms. He and the other two orcs start running silently through the night and I lay my head on his chest and try to will the panic and terror away.
Some time later, I realize we are running through an enormous encampment full of orcs. Many of them call out to Thrall, but he does not stop until he reaches a large tent and the three of them slow to a walk and enter. Inside are another two orcs: a tall and lean one with fierce red eyes and flowing black hair, and an old one with a white wolf at his side. Thrall sets me on my feet and the lanky orc scowls.
“Thrall, what is this? You bring a human woman into our camp? Couldn’t you have picked a better time to find a whore?”
Thrall growls, and the orc with red eyes looks slightly unsure of himself. “This is Taretha Foxton, the one who was kind to me. I owe her my life, and I am repaying that debt now.”
“The night before the attack? The human Blackmoore will be alerted!”
“He’s already been alerted. He knows she helped me escape and no doubt had her followed when she left. If I had let her return, he would have killed her.”
The terror and panic have faded, leaving me feeling hollow and numb. “I can be useful,” I say calmly as the red-eyed one opens his mouth to speak again. “I can tell you about the interior of the keep, and its defenses, and how many troops were there when I left at dinner.”
He gets right up in my face, even though he has to bend down to do so, but I do not flinch. “You would so easily betray your fellow humans? How can we trust that you will not betray us, too?”
“Grom…” Thrall growls warningly.
“I know Thrall. He will not murder innocents. I also know Blackmoore. He will do anything to fulfill his own sick desires. Between the two, I would rather side with Thrall, who has never hurt me.”
“…hurt you?” The red-eyed orc – Grom – looks startled. “This Blackmoore hurts his own kind, and a female at that?”
Rather than answer in words, I push back my sleeves and pull the neck of my dress open to show off some of the bruises.
“And you submit to this?”
“Grom!”
“He is the lord of the keep. If I were to disobey, he would beat me harder, then take what he wants anyway. Then he would punish my parents for my defiance. By pretending to enjoy his attentions, I protect my family as well as myself.”
“So you walked willingly into your slavery.”
“I hate him.” My voice is still steady, my eyes still dry. “I would like nothing more than to see him be put down like the rabid dog he is, not just for my own sake or for my family. Everyone around him suffers when he is angry. If you mean that I do not claw at his eyes and spit on him, then yes, I walked willingly into my slavery. Once he decided he wanted me in his bed, my only choices were to go meekly and be violated, or struggle and be beaten and violated anyway. For seven years I have blunted his temper with my body, buying some measure of peace with my humiliation.”
Grom stares at me, but it is the older orc who speaks.
“Tell me, child. Why do you feel so strongly towards Thrall? Why risk your life for him?”
“When they found him, he was just a baby.” A brief smile flits across my face. “He was too little to eat meat, and he was going to die. I asked my Da why didn’t they feed him milk, since he was a baby? My mother became his wet-nurse, since she’d given birth just a few weeks ago. I thought it was great that I had two little baby brothers. But my brother died of a fever, and Thrall was the only brother I had left. They took him away after a year, but I watched for him whenever I could.”
“Do you still see him as your little brother?”
I glance at Thrall, and find that he’s looking at me in astonished hope. It makes me smile, the hollowness inside me filling just slightly with warmth. “Of course.”
“I am Drek’thar,” the old orc says. “Shaman of the Frostwolf clan. Thrall’s clan. The things you have done were very brave, and very honorable. Should you wish it, I will perform the ritual of blood-bonding and make you his sister by the laws of his people.”
“Oh! Thrall!” The emptiness inside me shatters and I fling my arms around Thrall’s waist in a joyful hug. “You’re going to be my brother for real! …if you want to, that is,” I add belatedly.
“Of course, Tari,” he says, sounding just as touched. “But not tonight. We need the information you can give us about Durnholde. And there is something else that must be done.” He looks meaningfully at Grom.
“Taretha Foxton, I apologize for my earlier words.” He grins, looking very fierce indeed. “You should have been born an orc; you have a warrior’s heart. You will bring much honor to the Frostwolf, I can tell.”
Despite everything I have been through this day, I find myself smiling back at him. “Thank you, Grom. I only hope I prove your words true.”
===============
"Alright, that's as much as we can plan for tonight." Thrall stretches, fingers brushing the fabric of the tent easily. "Time to get some sleep. We'll be on the move before first light."
"Where's the girl going to sleep?" Grom asks, red eyes glowing in the dim light.
Whatever answer Thrall makes, I don't hear it. I have gone from terror to unnatural calm to resolute planning to exhaustion, and my head dips as sleep tugs at me. I don't realize I'm slipping sideways until a hand closes around my wrist and suddenly Blackmoore's face is before mine, teeth bared in a predatory grin, wine-soaked breath hot in my face and he reaches for my breast-
-and then I am back in the tent, staring into Thrall's worried blue eyes, his huge green hands gentle on my shoulders. Behind him, Grom is shaking one hand and wincing.
"Tari? Listen to me. Bin mog g'thazag cha, Tari. It means 'I will protect you'. They were the first words of orcish I ever heard. Bin mog g'thazag cha, Tari. I will protect you. Blackmoore will never lay a hand on you again. Bin mog g'thazag cha."
The repetition of unfamiliar sounds soothes me. I do feel safe with Thrall protecting me. Slowly, my blood thaws and panic releases me from its clutches and then I shudder, and he holds me as though I were a child.
"Demon's blood, Thrall, what did that dog do to her?" Grom crouches down, peering at me.
"I don't know," Thrall growls, holding me tighter.
Between the exhaustion and the broken calm already bleeding into me, I find myself detailing the abuses I'd suffered. The cruel words, the casual blows, the rough coupling. The drunken slurs and threats. The enraged beatings. The one time I dared speak back to him and was throttled until my world went black, and how he told me to say it was a cough and nothing more, and if anyone learned the truth he would cut out my lying tongue and split me open from neck to navel and leave me in the woods for the forest beasts to eat.
"You were right," Grom says when my words have all spilled out. "He is a mad dog. The world will be a cleaner place for his death.
"Bring me a blanket," Thrall rumbles. "She can sleep in my bedroll. I have slept on dirt often enough, it will not bother me."
Grom moves to the tent flap and barks an order. One of the orcs who accompanied us from Durnholde runs off and comes back with a bedroll. A quiet exchange, and the orc follows Grom inside the tent. He's bulkier than the Warsong chieftain, with most of his hair pulled up into a topknot and the rest a tangled mess.
"Golthak offers Taretha his bedroll," the red-eyed orc says curtly. "And says that he will sleep on the ground before the tent."
The new orc clutches the blankets in a way that reminds me of a nervous child, and a torrent of orcish pours from his mouth. Thrall's eyebrows go up in surprise.
"Tari, this is Golthak of the Shadowmoon clan. He has offered to be your bodyguard if you will have him."
"Bin mog g'thazag cha, Taretha," my hopeful protector says. "Sister...scared...died. You...scared...no die."
Grom eyes him. "We'll need to work on his common. Apparently he spent several years wandering the Lordaeron woods alone and only got captured recently. He had a sister who he says was scared like you, and she died. He wants to protect you because he couldn't protect her."
Somehow, I find it in me to smile. "Please tell him thank you for me, Grom. If Thrall trusts him, then I will, too."
"You will sleep here, then," Thrall says gently. "Snowsong will sleep in here with you, and Golthak will sleep outside."
"Snowsong?" I ask, but the enormous white wolf that had been at Drek’thar’s side pokes its nose through the tent's opening and pads silently inside.
Thrall smiles gently. "Tari, this is Snowsong. She won't hurt you."
"She's beautiful."
The sounds of the night are strange in my ears, but reassuring. The bedroll Golthak provided is nothing like Blackmoore's bed, and the orc himself guards what passes for my door. Snowsong is curled around me as though I were a strange human puppy of hers. Even if I were not worn thin from this night's events, I would feel safe enough that no dreams intrude on my slumber.
===============
When Durnholde Keep comes into view, Thrall pauses and the white wolf Snowsong pauses as well with me on her back. The walls are lined with men.
"He's up early," Thrall says casually.
I glower at the tiny figures. "I wonder how sober he is."
Grom and the orc who has offered himself as my protector move forward to join us. "You sure you want to do this, Taretha?"
I meet his red eyes steadily. "I need to do this. I want to hurt him, and this is the only way I can do it."
He grins at me. "Good. Your spirit is strong. the troops are ready, Thrall. They'll hold until your signal." He pauses. "You never mentioned what the signal will be."
Thrall hefts his heavy black hammer thoughtfully before slinging it across his back. "If I have to give the signal, they'll know it when they see it. Let's move out."
===============
"Well, well," Blackmoore slurs as soon as we are within range, "If it isn't my lil' pet orc, all grown up."
I know that tone too well. The walls of uncaring ice creep up to shield my heart, my mind, from the brutality sure to follow, even as I urge Snowsong deeper into Thrall's shadow.
"Greetings, Lieutenant General," Thrall says calmly. "I come not as a pet, but as the leader of an army - an army that has defeated your men soundly in the past. But I will make no move against them this day, unless you force my hand."
"Tha's nice, Thrall. What did you have in mind?"
Behind us, the primal rhythm of wardrums can faintly be heard. The army has to be coming over the hill, the men on the walls will be able to see them at any moment.
"We have no desire to fight humans anymore, unless you force us to defend ourselves. But you hold many hundreds of orcs prisoners, Blackmoore, in your vile encampments. They will be freed, one way or another. We can do it without more unnecessary bloodshed. Willingly release all the orcs held prisoner in the encampments, and we will return to the wilds and leave humans alone."
Blackmoore laughs; not a good sign. This deep in his cups, he only finds amusement in the pain of others. "Oh, oh, you are better than the king's jester, Thrall. Slave. I swear, it is more entertaining to watch you now than it was when you fought in the gladiator ring. Listen to you! Using complete sentences, by the Light! Are you trying to be more like me, Thrall? Is that why you took everything that's mine? You take my money by losing, then you take my whore, then you take my army."
Thrall stiffens in anger, holding his temper in check, but Blackmoore isn't done yet. He rushes to the wall and leans over, mirth transformed into grief.
"Why'd you do it, Thrall? I gave you everything! You and me, we'd have led those greenskins of yours against th' Alliance and had all the food and wine and gold we could want!"
"So that was his plan," Thrall murmurs, then raises his voice to a bellow that carries easily inside the walls. "Do you hear that, men of Durnholde? Your lord and master would betray all of you! Rise up against him, yield to us, and at the end of the day you will still have your lives and your fortress!"
Silence is the only answer. When the echoes fade, I can see that Blackmoore has passed into the truly dangerous mood I usually try so hard to keep him from slipping into.
"I ask you once more, Blackmoore. Negotiate or die."
"Let me see Taaretha first."
A whimper escapes my throat.
"I know you have her, Thrall. You took her from me. Wanted her for your own, did you? My man followed her. He saw you embrace her. Think you're a man now, Thrall, now that you've had her? Did she say she loved you? She's a liar, Thrall. A pretty little liar. Come out, my pretty traitor, and let me see you!"
The tone of command has me dismounted and standing at Thrall's side almost without conscious thought. Panic buzzes about behind my eyes, and I struggle to keep it contained.
"Tari..." Thrall's worried gaze is heavy on me, while Grom's is hot.
"Too bad your parents aren't here to see this, Tari," Blackmoore hisses. "It would break their hearts. Their only daughter, consorting with orcs." He bends down to pick up...what? "I took the liberty of filling them in last night when you didn't come back. Look how disappointed they are!"
Two objects hurtle down, landing in the slightly-muddy road. One thankfully does not move, but the other rolls almost to my feet, and my father's dead eyes cry out in soul-rending anguish. For a moment, everything stops moving and the thought runs through my head, he must have killed Ma first. Then there is a roaring in my ears, flashing behind my eyes, my heart pounds and the world shakes and I am crying as I have never cried before, not the first time Blackmoore took me to bed, not when he choked me half to death. It feels as though my heart were a ball of jagged knife-blades that I had swallowed, and am now trying to vomit out again.
"Bin mog g'thazag cha. Bin mog g'thazag cha. Bin mog g'thazag cha."
The growled words draw me back to the world around me. I will protect you. I will protect you. I will protect you. That's right, I am not alone anymore. I no longer have to endure this by myself, knowing that every eye is blind to my suffering. The roaring in my ears is suddenly words - kill you for this, Blackmoore - and the shaking of the earth is Thrall sending wave after wave of raw elemental power at the gates. The flashes of light are lightning crawling across the sky, lashing out to strike at the stones of the keep, and the pounding of my heart echoes the footsteps of two thousand orcs charging into battle.
"Golthak." Grom snaps out some orcish.
My designated protector keeps repeating bin mog g'thazag cha as he lifts me to Snowsong's back, and my fingers curl into her fur. He leads her off to the side, away from the battle, and the most horrific sound I have ever heard splits the air as though the bowels of Hell had opened up and the earth were screaming in agony. "Hellscream," Golthak says, and I have to agree.
From a nearby hilltop I watch as the battle rages, the outcome a forgone conclusion. When Thrall's forces begin to round up the innocents and escort them outside, I nudge Snowsong down to the keep and my protector follows me. I can see that some orcs are beginning to strip everything useful, ignoring the many bodies of the fallen, and I do the same. My heart is an indifferent lump of ice; cold logic drives me. The orcs do not know the value of books. If I don't ransack Blackmoore's library, the knowledge it contains will be lost.
===============
Durnholde stands now only because I will it to stand,” Thrall says as I walk up, stamping one foot to make the point. The earth trembles at his command. “You taught me the concept of mercy. At this moment, you should be very glad of that lesson. I intend to level Durnholde in a few moments. Your reinforcements will not arrive in time to be of any help to you. If your men will surrender, they and their families will be permitted to leave. We will see to it that you have food and water, even weapons. Those who do not surrender will die in the rubble."
Past him, Sergeant’s eyes widen, but they’re focused on me. “Taretha?”
“I found my parents’ bodies,” I say tonelessly. “They were in their bed.” The unnatural calm that comes in the wake of panic shudders at the onslaught of those words, but holds.
Thrall turns to me. “What burial rites did you want for them, Tari?”
“You’re bringing the keep down, right?” At his nod, I close my eyes briefly. “Let that be their gravestone.”
“Taretha, I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have had to see that.”
Sergeant’s pity rolls off my calm, leaving it untouched. “Did you avert your eyes, Sergeant?” I ask sharply, not caring that my words have become a blade with which I am assaulting him. “Did you turn your head and pretend that if you didn’t see, then you had no responsibility to act?”
He blinks in surprise. “Hey, that’s hardly fair. What was I supposed to do?”
“Tari,” Thrall says gently, trying to divert my attention, “was there anything you wanted to take with you?”
“Only the books, and we got those.” Behind me, the orc who chose to sit out the fight and protect me hefts a heavy sack.
“Taretha, you’re going with them?”
I whirl on Sergeant again, the calm splintering and rage licking at the cracks. “Why not? What does this place have for me?”
“Nothing, of course,” he says quickly, hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “But I’m going to take Thrall up on his offer." Putting words to action, he drops his sword. "I'll be going to Ambermill with my men, and we can take you with us easily.”
“Why, so you can avert your eyes once I’m there and pretend you did not see? You can do that just as easily by letting me go with Thrall.”
My anger seems to startle him. “Whoah there. Why are you so mad at me? I didn’t do anything.”
“No,” I say coldly. “You didn’t. No one did, except Thrall.” I push one sleeve up far enough to show the bruises, then let it fall. “You knew our master’s temper. Everyone did. He exercised it on his prized slave in public often enough. What made you think his other prized slave would be exempt from it?”
“I didn’t know,” Sergeant says slowly.
“No. You didn’t care to know.” I rake him with a look of scathing disdain and turn to Thrall, my soon-to-be brother. “I’ll be waiting with Drek’thar.”
Thrall nods and hugs me briefly, growling a bit when Sergeant looks about to protest as I walk away.