Flashback
"Well, if it isn't my little Sen'jin runaway." An immaculately-manicured and tightly-hennaed hand came up to pat Az'zul's cheek affectionately, then lowered to squeeze the muscles in his upper arm. "Grown up even more, and that eyepatch makes you look downright roguish."
The troll woman was done up more tastefully (as far as Az'zul was any judge) than the other girls he spied on his way through the Booty Bay brothel. She wore a wrap around her bust to leave her midriff exposed and printed skirts reached down to her ankle with a slit to show some leg. Her wrists were thick with jingling beads, under which the faded henna patterns disappeared, then resurfaced at her elbow. Her white hair was bound up in tight braids that coiled down around the necklaces piled at her throat. Thick kohl lined her eyes. Her mode of dress didn't look all that different from "normal" troll women, just a little bit more flashy, more done-up to tantalize.
"Rinling told me all about how he paid for our little 'date' way back when, so you can stop with that." He gently tugged her wrist away. "I had a run-in with the Alliance. He said you might be able to help. At least put me up until I can catch a ship back to Kalimdor."
She looked a little irritated. "Rin says a lot, doesn't he? Just because I do what I do, he thinks I can harbor any ol' criminal he sends my way?"
"He's done this before?"
Her arms crossed under her breasts, perhaps a calculated maneuver to make her cleavage squeeze tighter. It seemed to work, Az'zul noticed. "Well, no, I just don't want him to get into any habits."
"So . . . can I stay or not?"
A moment's contemplation was spent tapping her fingertip against the point of a tusk, until: "Fine. You can stay at my place. I do most of my work here at the brothel, anyway. Don't put on any lights or build any fires unless you want some of my customers comin' around."
She produced a key and verbal directions.
"I just wanna let you know: I don't have anything to give you in return. All I've got are the clothes on my back."
"Don't worry about it. Darkspear look after each other. There's so few of us . . ." She said it with the first genuine smile he's seen on her lips. He got the feeling her earlier irritation was only formality.
And he felt an odd warmth paired with a tightness in his throat. He'd felt a certain confederacy with his fellow trolls in the Darkmoon Faire, but this was the first time anyone expressed it in words. "Thank you."
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Az'zul found her small and cozy home without too much trouble. As if it were lying in wait, a cat came running to dart between his feet and through the front door as he unlocked it. The stray mewled at him expectantly, and he rifled through her pantry until he found something both he and the cat could nibble on. He slumped into the bed, expecting to only nap until she returned and then chivalrously find a place on the floor. Well, assuming she'd return at all.
Exhausted as he was from the stress of the past several days, he ended up sleeping longer than he'd expected. In his half-waking he remembered her climbing into bed in the semi-light of morning, perhaps leaning over to see how truly unconscious he was before drawing herself up against his back and slinging an arm around his chest.
He slept better for the gesture, glad to have someone close even if it was a woman he barely knew. Certainly better than hiding himself away in some nook and cranny of Booty Bay until he had a chance to stow away on a westbound ship.
He properly woke just before noon, he guessed, and carefully sat up to sling his legs over the edge of the bed. She was still fast asleep next to him, rather scantily dressed. He remembered a similar sight five years ago. The morning of the night they'd done a bit more than spoon, even though the memory is since soiled by the truth behind their invented romance.
Rather than be up-front about buying him a hooker, Rinling went to the trouble of building some fabulous lie about how Shila was his "very single half-sister." Of course, after a night of passion, lost virginity, et cetera, they couldn't be together because Shila was headed "far away." At the time, Az'zul had been young and stupid and obsessed with the idea of finding his one true life-mate. He can only hope he's not as gullible now.
Az'zul lifted his makeshift eye patch and touched the limp eyelid, half-hoping he'd feel the bulb of a fresh organ growing back.
As if reading his mind, "No amount of hoping makes eyeballs grow back," she said softly, but teasingly. "What happened?"
"I was out when and where I shouldn't've been. Some human had it in for trolls. Lost a brother to the Gurubashi, I think, and decided to take it out on me. Anyway, guess it's common knowledge now that eyes are a good place to hit us and make it count."
"Please tell me you taught him a good lesson? I get the occasional bit of grief from those guys when they come through." She drew herself up to her knees and scooted up behind him to rest her hands on his shoulders. Her fingers started to squeeze along in the beginnings of a massage. Shila knew upper and lower back were the sweet spots for the hunchback trolls. This was verified by the way his spine arched and popped along with the groans and sighs that left his lips.
"They tell me I killed 'im, or one of his friends. My blood got to boilin'. Mmmm. The fury took over and I don't remember any of it, other than I ended up under lock and key. I think that was the first time I ever raged like that. Aaah, that feels good."
"Lucky they didn't kill you on the spot. Wouldn't've been the first troll to get cut down by the Alliance, no questions asked. Not that it woulda helped to ask questions if you were wild." After she finished up his shoulders, her hands snaked around to his chest. She had to know how maddening that was. Her touch was making him aware of how little his mind and body were of an accord. "How'd you get free?"
"Silas couldn't defend me, wantin' to keep neutral and all. That was the first time he'd seen one of his own get in this deep of trouble with either faction. He used some of his contacts to get me out. They had to make it look like I died of an infection spread from my eye, and you can't execute a prisoner who's already dead."
"They faked your death? Sounds like a tall tale you'd hear at the tavern." He felt her press soft and close against his back.
He finally grumbled at her attentions. "Stop."
"Just thought you could use some jangled nerves smoothed." She pushed herself up to kiss his cheek and neck, ruffling a hand through his unkempt mohawk. It was growing out, though. "Just pretend I'm that girl you were so madly and hopelessly in love with before, huh? Rin told me all about how you wanted us to be mates. Have a little family. It was cute."
He rolled his eyes. "I'd rather see you as you are, not go back to some fantasy you and Rin trumped up for me."
"Either way. Not all of that was trumped up. It's just my line of work is a little different . . ." Her fingers traveled down his stomach. "Unless you've got somethin' against women in my profession."
He finally relented and twisted around to face her. "Well, in case you forgot, I don't have a copper to my name, and I probably stink like somethin' a week dead."
"That's okay, I've smelled worse, and this is strictly pro bono; my troll boys get a one-hundred-percent discount. At least . . . on a case-by-case basis."
He was silent, not quite willing to admit she was gaining ground. It had been a very long time since he was with a woman.
"Look, you. I can count the number of male trolls I've seen turn down a free, no-strings-attached tumble on one hand." She formed an 'o' with her thumb and forefinger and grinned jauntily. "I'd almost mistake you for a timid little human, the way you're pussy-footing around. Trying to be polite?" She gave one of his tusks a tug to draw him nearer.
He crawled toward her, continuing to argue in the interest of flirtation. "What if I don't even like women?"
"I don't believe that, the way I've caught you lookin'. Now . . ." She carefully ducked between his tusks to shut him up with a very vigorous kiss.
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Roughly an hour later and Az'zul found he hadn't made much progress from the bed since waking. The stuffy heat of the Booty Bay afternoon had long since permeated her living quarters, adding to the feeling of cozy laziness that'd settled into his limbs. The sweat that had collected on his face occasionally rolled into his eye socket, stinging the tender, exposed skin.
"Heh. You really haven't seen much action in five years, have you?"
He raised a bald eyebrow at his generous benefactor.
"I can tell. You haven't learned anything new since our last go. Hope you hadn't been playin' the hopeless romantic, savin' yourself for the day you'd run into me again." She gave his thigh a squeeze before slipping out of bed and into a light robe.
"Whether or not I meant to, seems I did." He followed suit, fishing up his discarded clothes and tugging them back on.
"Don't worry; with a little more experience, you'll make a decent mate someday."
She carved up some fruit, so easy to come by in the tropics of the southern end of the continent. It felt like he'd been ages without food, and he was glad of the chance to ease into it with something light on his collapsed stomach. Even so, he wolfed everything she offered, only feeling a little embarrassed afterwards. Especially after she'd shown him so much, er . . . extra hospitality.
While he ate, she segued into talk of actual business, still peeling and slicing. He noted how quickly her hands could go from being seductive to methodical, just like the rest of her. "I looked into it last night, and there's a goblin cargo ship headed for Ratchet tomorrow morning. They won't charge you a fare; I already signed you on as a deck hand under the name Luz'za. And who knows, they might give you some extra silver if they're feeling generous on the far shore."
He swallowed. "Sounds good."
"I heard goblins tend to skimp on the food, though, so I'll make sure you've got something extra."
"Shila, you don't--"
"Oh, shut your mouth. You've been through hell. You of all people have a right to accept a little help! And if I want to give it, there's nothing you can do to stop me, alright? Now keep eating." She foisted another helping of fruit at him.
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While she spent the evening at her work again, he half-dozed and puzzled over the woman's motivations. He wasn't so vain as to think she loved him beyond an odd pseudo-filial sense. Maybe she was just the proverbial 'hooker with a heart of gold'? In the end, he chalked it up to a mix of her feeling sorry for him, and being plain lonely. Yeah, she was with how many men a week? But that was just playing a role, as far as he could tell. Fulfilling a need. Earning a living.
Helping him out was just fulfilling another need, but at least it was a charitable one. It was outside the realm of goods and services. Even the sex was provided in the spirit of general hospitality. Certainly not romance. No different than forcing breakfast and a soft bed on him. Making him feel good and cared for made her feel good.
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She was back just before dawn to give him a hug and a canvas satchel with some extra provisions.
"Oh! Almost forgot!" she blurted as he was just walking through the door. He turned to see her rummaging in a pocket. "Nicked this from one of the other girls. Looked like it was about the right size."
She held up a spherical green-glass bead. "You know, if you want something for your . . ." She pointed at her own right eye.
In answer, he lifted his bandage and reached for the offered bauble.
"Wait! Here. Let me . . . just hold the lid back." With their combined efforts (and grimaces) the bead was fit snugly into his empty socket.
"There. That helps your looks some, but I'd still keep it covered if I were you."
He smiled and tugged the bandage back over his eye. "Thanks, Shila."
She wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him into a hug. "Take care of yourself, Az'zul," she said into his neck before drawing away. "If you ever find yourself back here, you can buy me dinner and a drink and we can call it even."
"Deal," is all he could manage before turning to the docks. He felt like he was back in love with her again, but he knew it was just as misguided as it was before.
(( One in a series of non-chronological flashbacks. This would occur after leaving the Darkmoon Faire, fleeing from Alliance Territory, to the neutral Booty Bay, and on to Kalimdor. Includes implied troll boinking, because you clearly can't [be a jungle troll and] spend any time in a place called "Booty Bay" without a little You Know What. ))