World of Warcraft: Keep Your Enemies Closer
Third part.
Fandom: World of Warcraft
Pairing: Varian/Garrosh/Varian
Title: Keep Your Enemies Closer
Author: dragon_fanworks . Obviously.
Rating: R with a dash of NC-17.
Disclaimer: If I owned WoW, would I be writing fanfiction?
Garrosh was surprised both by the rough purr of his own voice and when Varian chuckled darkly, even if the blue light in his eyes was still vibrant. The needy heat in the sound made Garrosh still a shiver and his cock twitched in anticipation.
He wants it.
The fingers of Varian’s injured hand picked at the clasps of Garrosh’s chest armor, which made Garrosh growl in appreciation.
Garrosh kept Varian’s good hand pinned to the dark stone of the altar while his free hand found what secured Varian’s armor. His fingers slipped on and over sluggishly bleeding wounds as he sought out the clasps on the man’s armor and he snarled in pain when Varian simply yanked on the straps of Garrosh’s armor, the snaps buckling and coming off, and his chest piece clattered to the floor.
Garrosh’s hand tightened on Varian’s good wrist, and he could feel that the pressure put strain on Varian’s body, although there was never a flicker of pain on Varian’s face-only a steadily dimming light in his eyes.
Garrosh responded to the rough treatment by dragging his mail covered fingers slowly down Varian’s body, leaving tiny scratches as marks of his passing. Varian’s eyes narrowed and his body instinctively flinched away from the pain, but it didn’t stop the wanderings of his wounded hand, didn’t prevent Varian from finding all the wounds that he had inflicted and aggravating them, which left Garrosh shivering in pain and a perverse kind of pleasure.
It was good, to feel Varian bruising beneath his fingers, to watch and hear the breathless gasps of want and hate. Garrosh caught Varian’s hand once it had picked away at Garrosh’s belt, and the armor fell unheeded to the cold stone floor. Dimly-glowing eyes met his, and Garrosh smiled slowly, the expression vicious, which provoked a dark chuckle from Varian.
Every strategic touch, every precisely placed pain, left Garrosh feeling violated and wanted. Every sound he drew from Varian as he pressed against him and manipulated his body made Garrosh ache. Armor was discarded viciously, casually, and when skin bruised skin, it felt better than anything Garrosh had felt before. Hands that he would have usually disdained as far too small and fragile nimbly found all the places that made Garrosh flinch and moan and control the body beneath him.
It was intoxicating and his erection strained painfully against his armor as a different kind of bloodlust descended on him, a craving to have Varian as his, and his alone.
After Garrosh had removed enough of Varian’s lower-body armor to free the human’s erection and offer Garrosh his body, he realized that he had only a vague idea of what to do. What he knew of sex he knew through hear-say and experience, and most Mag’har didn’t speak of the kind of illicit thing he had with Varian. It just…wasn’t done.
So, he had to work off instinct and, to his disgust, what Varian had done to him.
Garrosh pressed two of his fingers down on Varian’s lips and the man’s mouth opened enough for Garrosh to slip his fingers in. Garrosh was surprised when Varian groaned slightly before he began to suck on Garrosh’s fingers.
The feel of Varian’s tongue twining around his fingers made Garrosh shiver and release his grip on Varian’s good hand to fumble at what kept his own lower-body armor secure, Varian’s hands aiding and hindering the process. It was an acute relief when his erection was freed, and even the frigid air did nothing to tame it.
Garrosh withdrew his fingers to a small sound of protest and found Varian’s anus before pressing the first spit-slickened digit in.
Varian cried out in something that was an odd combination of pain, pleasure, and…relief. Garrosh swallowed when Varian pushed against his finger and the promise of claiming the man, of moving inside him and making what felt so strangely cold come alive again made his breath hitch.
Still, Varian had been oddly considerate of Garrosh’s body, so he would do the same.
The choked sound of need that Varian voiced and how the man’s hands pressed insistently against Garrosh’s back when Garrosh inserted his other finger made Garrosh shudder.
He wants this.
“G-Garrosh…”
Even though the loathing in the voice was unmistakable, so was the demand that laced the growl of his name.
No, he wants me.
Garrosh withdrew his fingers to a snarl of protest that was cut off by Garrosh pressing his cock into Varian’s body.
Varian moaned in ecstasy, and pressed Garrosh into him faster than Garrosh would have gone, as the sensation was beyond his experience. Garrosh had been with females before, but it was nothing compared to how it felt to be in Varian.
There was something warped about it, more than Varian simply being male and human. What they were doing was a mockery of something sacred, having Varian mostly-naked and supine on the dark altar in the Cathedral, clawing at him in need and hate as Garrosh moved in him.
Garrosh shivered at the sounds he was pulling from the man beneath him and groaned at how skin that had felt so cold warmed beneath his touches, at how color and life were slowly returned to Varian.
Varian arched into one of his thrusts and Garrosh’s breath hitched as he was pushed farther into Varian-oh, spirits, into Varian-and it was so wrong to feel so good.
Garrosh had unconsciously sped up, and his thrusts made Varian’s entire body move, but Varian met every thrust and moved against Garrosh, willingly burying Garrosh deep in his body.
However, there was something else there. It was in why Varian had accepted the invasion and seemed to relish it, in how all Garrosh had been able to think about was how to get back at Varian for the time on the glacier, even in how they had agreed to travel together regardless of their history of mutual hatred.
Garrosh didn’t want to name it, because then he would have to recognize it, and that was something he could do without.
“Garrosh…” Varian groaned, and the one word held a plethora of emotions that made Garrosh swallow a moan as the man came against him.
Varian’s eyes opened and met Garrosh’s, and Garrosh was oddly smug at the lust and pain and satiation in a gaze that no longer glowed. There was something forbidden in the small smirk that formed on Varian’s lips, a promise of torture and addiction and pleasure so intense it burned, and it left Garrosh breathless. It was a knowing expression, and said that, somehow, Garrosh had been claimed by Varian as much as Garrosh had gained possession of him.
Garrosh was terrified to find that he didn’t mind at all.
It was in the realization of possession, in Varian’s strangely seductive smirk and low, wanton moan, and the warmth that enveloped him that made Garrosh cum, his entire body convulsing with pleasure as he snarled Varian’s name.
For it was undeniable, who made him feel the way he did. Sex had never been so good with anyone else, which was somewhat horrifying.
Garrosh pulled out and was intrigued by the flicker of both pain and disappointment that flashed across Varian’s face. However, the aches that resulted from what it had taken to be able to take Varian had begun to assert themselves, and Garrosh wanted to be out of the Cathedral. He could no longer hear the dragon battling, but it was a content silence, which meant that she had won or at least accomplished what she had set out to do.
Garrosh backed away as Varian sat up slowly, and Garrosh was half-amused to find that the man was taking deep, almost desperate breaths of air and sweating profusely. Garrosh figured that after being so cold and dead for so long, it probably felt like he had stepped into the noon sun of Tanaris.
Garrosh flung Varian’s cloak to him, who caught it effortlessly, obviously aware of his surroundings.
A comfortable, satiated silence hung between them as they searched, retrieved, and secured their armors, although Garrosh could see that the bodily demands of being alive again were catching up on Varian, not to mention the injuries Garrosh had inflicted.
“I’m sick of this place,” Varian growled, his voice carefully controlled as he made his way towards the entrance. Garrosh fell into easy step beside him, since then man couldn’t walk terribly quickly anyway.
‘Have fun?’ the frostwyrm asked cheerfully as she picked remnants of cultists out from between the bones of her claws, shredded remains and frozen droplets of blood surrounding her.
Varian coughed to cover his embarrassment as Garrosh scowled.
“You say nothing of that to anyone,” Varian commanded as they came up beside her.
The dragon affected amused well. ‘No-one but you and the orc can understand me, my lord. I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone even if I wanted to.’
“But you don’t want to anyway?” Varian inquired.
‘I remember the social norms and prejudices of the ground-bound species,’ she drawled. ‘It would ruin both of you if anyone found out.’
She offered her back to them both and Garrosh swore he saw one of the blue-green lights flicker as if in a wink. ‘Although I imagine that there will be some questions asked anyway.’
“Do I appear to be who I am?” Varian asked and Garrosh was dismayed that he steadied the human as Varian settled into a seat. It meant he cared about Varian, and he didn’t.
‘My lord, you’ve always looked like the King of Stormwind to me. We’ll simply have to wait and see.’
Garrosh found a seat as well and the jolt of take-off pushed Varian back against him-and his arms instinctively closed around the king, which was, again, annoying, since it meant he cared for Varian and he didn’t.
I’ve lost my mind. Spirits, I’m so glad neither my father nor Greatmother can see me now.
Varian’s weight against him was strangely pleasant, though, and Garrosh had to fight down the odd desire to twine his fingers through Varian’s loose hair. He wanted to pull Varian closer, feel the warmth of a renewed body against him and-
Garrosh kicked himself mentally and scowled at nothing.
I just had sex with him and it’s only made me want him more. This is ridiculous!
Still, how relaxed Varian was against him was more than just a result of afterglow, exhaustion, or pain-there was an odd measure of trust, and Garrosh was dismayed to know that he wouldn’t betray the unconscious gesture.
I worked far too hard to get him back…although then there’s the question of why.
It took a supreme effort to still his hands, especially at the smug, amused, irritatingly seductive look Varian gave him over his shoulder.
He knows I want this…thing. And the damned human is obviously too pleased to make me feel something other than abject hatred.
Although there was also relief there-relief that it wasn’t just he who had gone insane.
‘We’re coming up to the grounds. I suggest that you stop cuddling and look like the leaders that you are.’
“I am not-” Varian began as Garrosh snarled, and the implication of affection between the two of them made Varian sit up straight, regardless of how his body visibly hurt.
Spirits, how am I going to explain him? The scum can at least pull rank-I have Thrall to answer to and people talk.
Garrosh glared at the approaching ground. Damn.
The frostwyrm landed with surprising delicacy, and Garrosh slid off before Varian, and anticipated that the man’s body would give out exactly like it did, which made him catch Varian.
Garrosh was again struck with how good it felt to have Varian against him, but forced his expression to show nothing but disdain as Varian growled curses in Orcish and Common while he struggled to recover his dignity.
“Father!”
Garrosh looked over and saw Anduin coming at a sprint to them before colliding with his father, and spoke with him quietly and quickly, Common slurring together in a blur that Garrosh couldn’t entirely understand. A strange sense of jealousy and yearning ran through Garrosh at how the two interacted, which he quickly squashed.
“Garrosh?”
Garrosh looked over to Thrall, who was approaching at a more sedate pace as he eyed the frostwyrm that loomed over them protectively.
“Thrall,” Garrosh acknowledged and gave the smallest of bows possible while still being respectful.
“What is he to you?” Thrall asked once Garrosh had relinquished his hold on Varian to a number of high elves and a human healer as Anduin fluttered around them like a nervous bird.
Garrosh looked back to his Warchief as Thrall performed what healing magic he could to keep Garrosh together until a more skilled healer than he was available.
Garrosh was silent, unsure how to explain what exactly Varian was to him. There really were no words to describe the loathing, the need, the lust, and the kinship that bound them to each other. They were still enemies-and quite bitter ones at that-but there was also something else there that defied definition.
“I can make the request an order.”
“I hate him,” Garrosh answered simply. It was the truth, but there were so many other things that he couldn’t say.
I crave him. He has dug beneath my skin and taken up residence in my head. And the worst part is I don’t mind having him there.
“But you’re willing to help him.”
“We survived Arthas only through using each other. It would have been wrong for me to let him become Arthas’ puppet when I’m free.”
Thrall was obviously surprised. “He was the one you were traveling with?”
Garrosh nodded shortly and glared sullenly in the general direction of where Varian had been.
“And you didn’t kill each other.”
“Obviously,” Garrosh replied as a true healer took inventory of what Garrosh had injured.
“How? Why?” Thrall half-demanded, clearly baffled by behavior that was so out of character.
Garrosh was silent for a moment before he said, “Traveling with him was a better option than being enslaved to the Lich King.”
“There ya go, Overlord,” the troll said and patted Garrosh’s forearm almost condescendingly before he looked at Thrall. “I canna cure his stupid, though.”
Garrosh snarled and Thrall didn’t bother to hide a small smile as the troll sauntered away.
“Come, Garrosh. If I’ve had enough of Icecrown, I’m sure you have.”
Garrosh followed his Warchief and continued to try to figure out what exactly Varian meant to him, but he had a sinking feeling he’d never have a solid answer as to why he needed the king like he did.
Stupid human.
--
In other news, I seem to have made someone somewhere distinctly uncomfortable, since they continue to read---and review--KYEC on fanfic.net even though, "Motherfucking slash fangirls, I could just murder you all with a 2x4." They also go on to rant: "God, this is like a soap opera. It just reeeeeels you in, and you love it, even though you know it's utterly ridiculous shit. (The subject matter, mind you, not the writing itself, which is still lovely.)" I'm flattered by both statements. XD
Fandom: World of Warcraft
Pairing: Varian/Garrosh/Varian
Title: Keep Your Enemies Closer
Author: dragon_fanworks . Obviously.
Rating: R with a dash of NC-17.
Disclaimer: If I owned WoW, would I be writing fanfiction?
Garrosh was surprised both by the rough purr of his own voice and when Varian chuckled darkly, even if the blue light in his eyes was still vibrant. The needy heat in the sound made Garrosh still a shiver and his cock twitched in anticipation.
He wants it.
The fingers of Varian’s injured hand picked at the clasps of Garrosh’s chest armor, which made Garrosh growl in appreciation.
Garrosh kept Varian’s good hand pinned to the dark stone of the altar while his free hand found what secured Varian’s armor. His fingers slipped on and over sluggishly bleeding wounds as he sought out the clasps on the man’s armor and he snarled in pain when Varian simply yanked on the straps of Garrosh’s armor, the snaps buckling and coming off, and his chest piece clattered to the floor.
Garrosh’s hand tightened on Varian’s good wrist, and he could feel that the pressure put strain on Varian’s body, although there was never a flicker of pain on Varian’s face-only a steadily dimming light in his eyes.
Garrosh responded to the rough treatment by dragging his mail covered fingers slowly down Varian’s body, leaving tiny scratches as marks of his passing. Varian’s eyes narrowed and his body instinctively flinched away from the pain, but it didn’t stop the wanderings of his wounded hand, didn’t prevent Varian from finding all the wounds that he had inflicted and aggravating them, which left Garrosh shivering in pain and a perverse kind of pleasure.
It was good, to feel Varian bruising beneath his fingers, to watch and hear the breathless gasps of want and hate. Garrosh caught Varian’s hand once it had picked away at Garrosh’s belt, and the armor fell unheeded to the cold stone floor. Dimly-glowing eyes met his, and Garrosh smiled slowly, the expression vicious, which provoked a dark chuckle from Varian.
Every strategic touch, every precisely placed pain, left Garrosh feeling violated and wanted. Every sound he drew from Varian as he pressed against him and manipulated his body made Garrosh ache. Armor was discarded viciously, casually, and when skin bruised skin, it felt better than anything Garrosh had felt before. Hands that he would have usually disdained as far too small and fragile nimbly found all the places that made Garrosh flinch and moan and control the body beneath him.
It was intoxicating and his erection strained painfully against his armor as a different kind of bloodlust descended on him, a craving to have Varian as his, and his alone.
After Garrosh had removed enough of Varian’s lower-body armor to free the human’s erection and offer Garrosh his body, he realized that he had only a vague idea of what to do. What he knew of sex he knew through hear-say and experience, and most Mag’har didn’t speak of the kind of illicit thing he had with Varian. It just…wasn’t done.
So, he had to work off instinct and, to his disgust, what Varian had done to him.
Garrosh pressed two of his fingers down on Varian’s lips and the man’s mouth opened enough for Garrosh to slip his fingers in. Garrosh was surprised when Varian groaned slightly before he began to suck on Garrosh’s fingers.
The feel of Varian’s tongue twining around his fingers made Garrosh shiver and release his grip on Varian’s good hand to fumble at what kept his own lower-body armor secure, Varian’s hands aiding and hindering the process. It was an acute relief when his erection was freed, and even the frigid air did nothing to tame it.
Garrosh withdrew his fingers to a small sound of protest and found Varian’s anus before pressing the first spit-slickened digit in.
Varian cried out in something that was an odd combination of pain, pleasure, and…relief. Garrosh swallowed when Varian pushed against his finger and the promise of claiming the man, of moving inside him and making what felt so strangely cold come alive again made his breath hitch.
Still, Varian had been oddly considerate of Garrosh’s body, so he would do the same.
The choked sound of need that Varian voiced and how the man’s hands pressed insistently against Garrosh’s back when Garrosh inserted his other finger made Garrosh shudder.
He wants this.
“G-Garrosh…”
Even though the loathing in the voice was unmistakable, so was the demand that laced the growl of his name.
No, he wants me.
Garrosh withdrew his fingers to a snarl of protest that was cut off by Garrosh pressing his cock into Varian’s body.
Varian moaned in ecstasy, and pressed Garrosh into him faster than Garrosh would have gone, as the sensation was beyond his experience. Garrosh had been with females before, but it was nothing compared to how it felt to be in Varian.
There was something warped about it, more than Varian simply being male and human. What they were doing was a mockery of something sacred, having Varian mostly-naked and supine on the dark altar in the Cathedral, clawing at him in need and hate as Garrosh moved in him.
Garrosh shivered at the sounds he was pulling from the man beneath him and groaned at how skin that had felt so cold warmed beneath his touches, at how color and life were slowly returned to Varian.
Varian arched into one of his thrusts and Garrosh’s breath hitched as he was pushed farther into Varian-oh, spirits, into Varian-and it was so wrong to feel so good.
Garrosh had unconsciously sped up, and his thrusts made Varian’s entire body move, but Varian met every thrust and moved against Garrosh, willingly burying Garrosh deep in his body.
However, there was something else there. It was in why Varian had accepted the invasion and seemed to relish it, in how all Garrosh had been able to think about was how to get back at Varian for the time on the glacier, even in how they had agreed to travel together regardless of their history of mutual hatred.
Garrosh didn’t want to name it, because then he would have to recognize it, and that was something he could do without.
“Garrosh…” Varian groaned, and the one word held a plethora of emotions that made Garrosh swallow a moan as the man came against him.
Varian’s eyes opened and met Garrosh’s, and Garrosh was oddly smug at the lust and pain and satiation in a gaze that no longer glowed. There was something forbidden in the small smirk that formed on Varian’s lips, a promise of torture and addiction and pleasure so intense it burned, and it left Garrosh breathless. It was a knowing expression, and said that, somehow, Garrosh had been claimed by Varian as much as Garrosh had gained possession of him.
Garrosh was terrified to find that he didn’t mind at all.
It was in the realization of possession, in Varian’s strangely seductive smirk and low, wanton moan, and the warmth that enveloped him that made Garrosh cum, his entire body convulsing with pleasure as he snarled Varian’s name.
For it was undeniable, who made him feel the way he did. Sex had never been so good with anyone else, which was somewhat horrifying.
Garrosh pulled out and was intrigued by the flicker of both pain and disappointment that flashed across Varian’s face. However, the aches that resulted from what it had taken to be able to take Varian had begun to assert themselves, and Garrosh wanted to be out of the Cathedral. He could no longer hear the dragon battling, but it was a content silence, which meant that she had won or at least accomplished what she had set out to do.
Garrosh backed away as Varian sat up slowly, and Garrosh was half-amused to find that the man was taking deep, almost desperate breaths of air and sweating profusely. Garrosh figured that after being so cold and dead for so long, it probably felt like he had stepped into the noon sun of Tanaris.
Garrosh flung Varian’s cloak to him, who caught it effortlessly, obviously aware of his surroundings.
A comfortable, satiated silence hung between them as they searched, retrieved, and secured their armors, although Garrosh could see that the bodily demands of being alive again were catching up on Varian, not to mention the injuries Garrosh had inflicted.
“I’m sick of this place,” Varian growled, his voice carefully controlled as he made his way towards the entrance. Garrosh fell into easy step beside him, since then man couldn’t walk terribly quickly anyway.
‘Have fun?’ the frostwyrm asked cheerfully as she picked remnants of cultists out from between the bones of her claws, shredded remains and frozen droplets of blood surrounding her.
Varian coughed to cover his embarrassment as Garrosh scowled.
“You say nothing of that to anyone,” Varian commanded as they came up beside her.
The dragon affected amused well. ‘No-one but you and the orc can understand me, my lord. I wouldn’t be able to tell anyone even if I wanted to.’
“But you don’t want to anyway?” Varian inquired.
‘I remember the social norms and prejudices of the ground-bound species,’ she drawled. ‘It would ruin both of you if anyone found out.’
She offered her back to them both and Garrosh swore he saw one of the blue-green lights flicker as if in a wink. ‘Although I imagine that there will be some questions asked anyway.’
“Do I appear to be who I am?” Varian asked and Garrosh was dismayed that he steadied the human as Varian settled into a seat. It meant he cared about Varian, and he didn’t.
‘My lord, you’ve always looked like the King of Stormwind to me. We’ll simply have to wait and see.’
Garrosh found a seat as well and the jolt of take-off pushed Varian back against him-and his arms instinctively closed around the king, which was, again, annoying, since it meant he cared for Varian and he didn’t.
I’ve lost my mind. Spirits, I’m so glad neither my father nor Greatmother can see me now.
Varian’s weight against him was strangely pleasant, though, and Garrosh had to fight down the odd desire to twine his fingers through Varian’s loose hair. He wanted to pull Varian closer, feel the warmth of a renewed body against him and-
Garrosh kicked himself mentally and scowled at nothing.
I just had sex with him and it’s only made me want him more. This is ridiculous!
Still, how relaxed Varian was against him was more than just a result of afterglow, exhaustion, or pain-there was an odd measure of trust, and Garrosh was dismayed to know that he wouldn’t betray the unconscious gesture.
I worked far too hard to get him back…although then there’s the question of why.
It took a supreme effort to still his hands, especially at the smug, amused, irritatingly seductive look Varian gave him over his shoulder.
He knows I want this…thing. And the damned human is obviously too pleased to make me feel something other than abject hatred.
Although there was also relief there-relief that it wasn’t just he who had gone insane.
‘We’re coming up to the grounds. I suggest that you stop cuddling and look like the leaders that you are.’
“I am not-” Varian began as Garrosh snarled, and the implication of affection between the two of them made Varian sit up straight, regardless of how his body visibly hurt.
Spirits, how am I going to explain him? The scum can at least pull rank-I have Thrall to answer to and people talk.
Garrosh glared at the approaching ground. Damn.
The frostwyrm landed with surprising delicacy, and Garrosh slid off before Varian, and anticipated that the man’s body would give out exactly like it did, which made him catch Varian.
Garrosh was again struck with how good it felt to have Varian against him, but forced his expression to show nothing but disdain as Varian growled curses in Orcish and Common while he struggled to recover his dignity.
“Father!”
Garrosh looked over and saw Anduin coming at a sprint to them before colliding with his father, and spoke with him quietly and quickly, Common slurring together in a blur that Garrosh couldn’t entirely understand. A strange sense of jealousy and yearning ran through Garrosh at how the two interacted, which he quickly squashed.
“Garrosh?”
Garrosh looked over to Thrall, who was approaching at a more sedate pace as he eyed the frostwyrm that loomed over them protectively.
“Thrall,” Garrosh acknowledged and gave the smallest of bows possible while still being respectful.
“What is he to you?” Thrall asked once Garrosh had relinquished his hold on Varian to a number of high elves and a human healer as Anduin fluttered around them like a nervous bird.
Garrosh looked back to his Warchief as Thrall performed what healing magic he could to keep Garrosh together until a more skilled healer than he was available.
Garrosh was silent, unsure how to explain what exactly Varian was to him. There really were no words to describe the loathing, the need, the lust, and the kinship that bound them to each other. They were still enemies-and quite bitter ones at that-but there was also something else there that defied definition.
“I can make the request an order.”
“I hate him,” Garrosh answered simply. It was the truth, but there were so many other things that he couldn’t say.
I crave him. He has dug beneath my skin and taken up residence in my head. And the worst part is I don’t mind having him there.
“But you’re willing to help him.”
“We survived Arthas only through using each other. It would have been wrong for me to let him become Arthas’ puppet when I’m free.”
Thrall was obviously surprised. “He was the one you were traveling with?”
Garrosh nodded shortly and glared sullenly in the general direction of where Varian had been.
“And you didn’t kill each other.”
“Obviously,” Garrosh replied as a true healer took inventory of what Garrosh had injured.
“How? Why?” Thrall half-demanded, clearly baffled by behavior that was so out of character.
Garrosh was silent for a moment before he said, “Traveling with him was a better option than being enslaved to the Lich King.”
“There ya go, Overlord,” the troll said and patted Garrosh’s forearm almost condescendingly before he looked at Thrall. “I canna cure his stupid, though.”
Garrosh snarled and Thrall didn’t bother to hide a small smile as the troll sauntered away.
“Come, Garrosh. If I’ve had enough of Icecrown, I’m sure you have.”
Garrosh followed his Warchief and continued to try to figure out what exactly Varian meant to him, but he had a sinking feeling he’d never have a solid answer as to why he needed the king like he did.
Stupid human.
--
In other news, I seem to have made someone somewhere distinctly uncomfortable, since they continue to read---and review--KYEC on fanfic.net even though, "Motherfucking slash fangirls, I could just murder you all with a 2x4." They also go on to rant: "God, this is like a soap opera. It just reeeeeels you in, and you love it, even though you know it's utterly ridiculous shit. (The subject matter, mind you, not the writing itself, which is still lovely.)" I'm flattered by both statements. XD