The celebration is well under way and Thrall, Warchief of the Horde, can’t help but feel a swell of happiness as he stands alongside Cairne and Vol’jin, looking out over a massive party where all three groups who had stood in defense of Kalimdor can be seen peacefully comingling. If you had told him that his people would not only one day fight side by side with humans, but also celebrate with them afterwards… Thrall isn’t sure he would have believed it.
But he cannot deny what is taking place right before his eyes. Orcs, Tauren, and Trolls exchange hearty laughter with Night Elves, Humans, Gnomes, and Dwarves. They might have been split between their different bases during the battle, but now, after the fact, they engage in casual camaraderie that Thrall has to admit… makes him hopeful for the future.
Indeed, that is why he stands with Cairne and Vol’jin now. Thrall has already spoken with his orcish lieutenants, the Chieftains of the Orc Clans who have followed him from Lordaeron all the way to Kalimdor. They stand at his back even now, ready to follow him into a brighter future for their people. Their victory over the Legion, to say nothing of the alliances they’ve managed to make since coming to these lands, has only served to further the trust that his people have in him. Needless to say, Thrall’s leadership of the Orcish Horde is not likely to be questioned any time soon.
But at the same time, is this not supposed to be a New Horde? Even in the Old Horde, there were more than just orcs. There were the ogres who traveled with them from Draenor, and the Amani Trolls who allied with them against the High Elves of Quel’Thalas. While Thrall had no intention of waging a war of conquest like his predecessors, that did not mean he should ignore everything they did. Especially Orgrim Doomhammer, who made allies of the disparate and downtrodden.
Looking to his companions, Thrall grunts, drawing their attention over to him as he takes a swig of the grog in his mug. It burns going down, as good grog should.
“My friends… I would speak of our future. Of the future of our peoples. What say the two of you?”
There is quiet for a moment, before Cairne speaks up first, voice rumbling in his chest.
“Hmm… the Bloodhoof Tribe will always owe you and your orcs much, Warchief. Your Horde… I would be honored to have my Tribe join it. However, I seen an opportunity for more… an opportunity that you yourself have made possible with your actions.”
Thrall blinks at that, inclining his head in acknowledgment for Cairne to continue. After getting his thoughts in order, the Tauren Chieftain does exactly that.
“For longer than I have walked this world, my people have suffered at the cruel predations of the centaurs, the quilboar, and the harpies. The centaurs most of all. With your people’s help, the Bloodhoof Tribe has done the unthinkable. We have managed to drive the centaur out of Mulgore and claimed the grasslands of our ancestors for our own. For the first time in centuries, we have a chance to build something new.”
Looking out over the celebration, Cairne’s eyes look almost misty… though Thrall acknowledges that that might be a trick of the light.
“I wish to return to Mulgore with my Tribe and create a refuge there. Not just for the courageous Bloodhoof Braves who helped save Kalimdor from the Legion… but for all of the Tauren Tribes. I believe, now that we have a chance to build ourselves a home, that the tauren of Kalimdor will come flocking. And I believe, once they see what friendship with you and your orcs has wrought, they will see the wisdom in joining your Horde officially.”
Turning to him fully, Cairne drops to one knee and bows his head, placing a fist on his chest.
“I say to you now, Warchief Thrall. Ask it of me and I will remain. I and my Bloodhoof Braves will join you and your Horde here and now. But release us to return to the grasslands… and I will bring you tenfold what you have now.”
Thrall is quick to place a hand on his friend’s broad shoulder, feeling immediately uncomfortable at Cairne’s show of support.
“Please my friend, please rise.”
Cairne does so, even as Thrall smiles.
“As always, your wisdom is unmatched Cairne. You need not ask me for permission to do something that will undeniably benefit your people. Nor are you my servant, for me to order around and abuse. Go, Chieftain of the Bloodhoof Tribe. Return to Mulgore. Create a home for your people. Rally the tauren to your cause. And when you return to me, I will happily clasp arms with you… as brother.”
Cairne bows his head, and Thralls nods at the honorable tauren. Then, he looks to Vol’jin. The Shadow Hunter chuckles, crouching low to the ground as was his people’s preference.
“Ah. I cannot be offerin’ ya such heady promises, Warchief. Dey Trolls of Kalimdor not be so easily swayed, I’m afraid. My people have long memories, mon. Dey remember their Empires, even to dis day.”
Shaking himself, Vol’jin snorts.
“Dey also not all be as nice as dey Darkspear Tribe. Hm. But… we never be forgettin’ what the Horde did for us neither. Dis be my solemn vow, as Chieftain of dey Darkspear. From now until da end, we fight for you, Warchief. For da Horde.”
That’s more than fair. Indeed, Cairne’s heady promise had already taken Thrall aback. He knew better than to expect that Vol’jin would be able to do the same with his own people’s tribes. The Trolls, from what Thrall knew, were scattered all across the face of Azeroth, whereas the Tauren had never left Kalimdor before.
Nodding to Vol’jin, Thrall smiles warmly.
“I require nothing else from you, my friend. For the Horde.”
Before any of them can speak again, a female voice suddenly rings out from the party.
“A toast! A toast, please!”
All eyes, including Thrall and his allies, turn towards Lady Jaina Proudmoore as she holds up a cup. No one hesitates to hold a cup of their own up or go and find one as well. No one dares to sneer or turn away from the woman who saved so many of them from the jaws of death with her powerful arcane magic. Without Jaina’s teleportation, many more of both her own people and the Horde would have died during the Battle for Mount Hyjal. That is indisputable.
Holding her glass high, Jaina speaks loudly and clearly as silence falls over the celebration, everyone listening to her words.
“A toast to Duke Lionheart, Paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand! A brave man. A good fighter. A stalwart knight. Even in his advanced age, he followed me across the sea to this strange, unknown place. He fought with me to protect our new home, and he fought alongside all of us to save Azeroth from the Burning Legion. He and his fellow knights fell in honorable battle, so that I and others might survive, so that we might escape. Please… to Duke Lionheart!”
“Duke Lionheart!”
“Sir Lionheart!”
“For the Silver Hand!”
Cries rise up among Jaina’s people at first, but the toast is quickly taken up by others as well. Thrall smiles as he sees orcs raise their mugs and let out roars, beating their chests with fists in honor of the human warrior. Thrall himself, raises his mug and does the same, remembering Duke Lionheart well. He might not have known the human paladin personally, but in his handful of interactions with him, he’d never got the impression that the man blamed any of them for the actions of the Old Horde. A rare and honorable individual indeed.
That said, something Jaina has said prompts Thrall to step forward, even as the cries start to die down. When people begin to notice him, they fall silent all the quicker, and his orcs begin stomping their feet, drawing more and more attention to the Orc Warchief. Jaina herself turns his way, even as Thrall holds his mug up to HER next.
“Another toast. A toast to Lady Jaina Proudmoore. If not for her magic, I and my warriors would not have escaped the Legion’s advance. To fall in battle protecting your home is a warrior’s greatest honor. But to live to fight another day… is priceless. And we still have much to do here on Kalimdor! To Lady Proudmoore! To our new home!”
More cries. More roars. Jaina blushes but smiles and dips her head, accepting the praise without comment. Of course, now that Jaina and Thrall have both done it, things quickly become a series of toasts from all sorts of people to others. Be they fallen heroes, or even living warriors who had comported themselves well in battle.
The following toasts are smaller affairs, with smaller groups cheering for them as they start up all over the party. Meanwhile, Jaina makes her way over to Thrall as he steps back to where Cairne and Vol’jin await her. She gives them each a nod of her head, acknowledging them before sipping from her glass. Thrall, after a moment’s hesitation, goes for broke.
“We were just discussing the future of the Horde, Lady Proudmoore. I wonder… how do you see yourself fitting into that future if you don’t mind me asking?”
It’s possible she’ll take his question as an unintended insult, but Thrall considers it worth the risk. Of course, the moment she processes his words and freezes in place, he knows that the best case scenario is too much to hope for.
“I… apologies. I will be blunt. I do not see my people ever joining the Horde, Warchief. I acknowledge that your New Horde is not like the Old… but you are still orcs. And as much as we have proven that humans and orcs cannot only fight side by side but also live in harmony with one another… my people will never accept putting themselves under the leadership of an Orc Warchief. And I would be doing a disservice to them if I tried to force the issue. It’s simply a bridge too far.”
Jaina looks pained as she says this. But Thrall understands. More than that, it was only to be expected. She’s right, after all. It’s one thing for Cairne and Vol’jin to swear loyalty to him and his Horde. But Jaina represents people who have suffered at the hands of orcs in the past. And while those wounds have healed, the scars that remain will forever run deep.
Tilting his head towards Jaina to show there is no offense, Thrall rumbles.
“I understand, Lady Proudmoore. You are right, of course.”
Jaina smiles a weak smile and takes another sip from her glass before throwing out a lifeline.
“Still, I do not believe that precludes there being peace between our two peoples. Already, my ships are scouting the coastline of Kalimdor for a suitable place to build a harbor. Given that the vast majority of able-bodied men I brought from Lordaeron have at least some sailing background by this point, we think it best that we build our new home on the coast… if not an island, if a suitable one can be found. I shall make sure that word is sent when we decide where we are settling down roots. There is no reason that our two peoples cannot peacefully coexist, especially when Kalimdor is such a big place.”
She sounds hopeful. Eager, even. It’s obvious that the thought of settling somewhere fills Jaina with excitement. And honestly, that excitement is infectious. But Thrall still finds himself feeling a little… cynical. He hums, about to reply… when Jaina suddenly perks up. Her gaze has caught upon something off in the distance… or rather someone. Before Thrall can speak, she turns back to them and bows her head respectfully.
“It has been a pleasure, but I must be off. Thank you for your time.”
And with that, the human mage moves back into the crowded celebration… making a beeline for a certain Warsong Chieftain who has just showed his face at long last. As Jaina goes to Rognak, Thrall watches the two of them, not entirely sure what to think if he’s being honest. At his sides, Cairne and Vol’jin both have their own thoughts on the matter.
“Heh. Well, if nothing else, it would seem the ties between orcs and humans might be able to get even stronger with some more time.”
“Aye, mon. Specifically the ties between dat orc and dat human, heh.”
Thrall chuckles good-naturedly at the teasing… hiding the inner turmoil that he feels as he watches Jaina encircle one of Rognak’s large, thick arms with her own and guide him away from the main area that the celebration is taking place in. It is not jealousy that Thrall is feeling right now. He does not wish he were in Rognak’s place, especially since he knows the Warsong Chieftain is currently being courted by two different women at once.
He does not envy the orc druid having to figure out how to navigate his relationships with Shandris Feathermoon and Jaina Proudmoore.
Still, a part of Thrall wonders at the bonds that Rognak is forging. After the internment of their people, the flight from Lordaeron, and the battles here on Kalimdor… the Orcish Clans have weakened in their individualism, by and large. There is no longer so much separation between the orcs who remain. They are, for the first time in history, all one people, all one Horde in TRUTH.
Save for one. The Warsong Clan still stands a step apart from the rest of the Horde. With their druids and their bonds with the Night Elves, they have the most Clan Identity remaining. This in and of itself is not a bad thing, but combined with Rognak’s actions, many of which are taken without consulting his Warchief… sometimes Thrall wonders if Rognak truly sees him as his superior. Or if the Warsong Chieftain instead views them as peers.
Thrall is not so small-minded that he needs to be kowtowed or bowed to in submission or subservience. But for all the good Rognak has done for their people, he will always be the orc who killed Thrall’s brother. And while Grommash might have forgiven Rognak for his actions, Thrall isn’t so sure he’ll ever be able to do the same.
… Even still, Thrall would not allow himself to fall into a spiral of self-doubt. The future was brighter than ever, and he would be doing a disservice both to himself and the Horde if he started chasing shadows and making enemies where there were none.
Rognak was an ally. And his bonds with the Night Elves and Humans would hopefully only enrich and strengthen the Horde in the end. And if they did not… well, Thrall would cross that bridge when he came to it, he supposed.
-x-X-x-
“Jaina, I-!”
“Shhh…”
Jaina blushes as she insistently tugs on his hand. Fortunately, despite a frown on his face, the large orc druid doesn’t fight her. After all, she knows full well that she doesn’t have the stature or the physical strength to move him if he doesn’t want to be moved. Not without magic anyways, and she’s obviously not going to resort to that.
Luckily, he allows her to pull him along, letting her drag him a little way away from the party and to a more secluded area. Once Jaina deems them far enough away from everyone else, the human mage turns to him. Then, she takes the hand she’s been pulling on and carefully uncurls his index finger from it… before sliding that finger down between her legs and up against her crotch.
Her breath hitches as the hefty, thick, orcish finger makes contact with her sex, albeit with her robes and undergarments between their flesh. Nevertheless, Jaina is sure that Rognak can feel just how warm her core is. No doubt he can smell just how aroused she is right now, her insides hot and needy. But… it’s more than physical need. It’s so much more than that.
“Jaina…”
Rognak says her name somewhat slowly, looking into her eyes as she stares back at him with a bright red blush across her features. He doesn’t try to remove his finger though. Nor does he move it, however. Instead, as she finds herself resting upon that digit, he looks at her and smiles softly.
“I haven’t gotten the chance to thank you properly, yet. You saved my life.”
That, at least, is easy enough to respond to. Thrusting out her chin, Jaina shakes her head.
“No need for thanks. I was just… just doing my duty. Nothing more.”
Rognak scoffs at that, his finger still pressed against her core. She probably shouldn’t be enjoying the contact as much as he is, but… well, he is an orc. His sole green finger is as big as a human’s… well, it’s big, suffice to say. And she likes that he’s not removing it while they have this conversation.
“Don’t try to downplay it. Your duty was to your people and the Warchief and his forces. No one expected you to have any mana left for anything beyond that, and drinking more potions than you’d already had must have put you in danger. You risked yourself to save me, Jaina. I owe you my life.”
Biting her lower lip, Jaina leans forward and presses her forehead into Rognak’s chest.
“… I don’t accept it. You owe me n-nothing. I did what I did for purely selfish reasons. There were probably others I could have saved, after all. But I chose you. Because…”
She trails off here, almost not trusting herself to speak. In that moment, Jaina finds herself thinking back to the conversation she just had with Thrall and the others back at the party. The same reasons that she’d given the Orc Warchief for why her and her people could never join the Horde officially… they sort of held true for why Jaina SHOULDN’T be considering going through with this confession right now. And yet…
The battle was over. Their world was saved. And most importantly of all, both her and Rognak had survived. With things all said and done, Jaina was forced to confront her feelings regarding the night of passion that she had shared with the orc druid and Shandris Feathermoon. She was forced to acknowledge a simple truth… she had never been happier.
She didn’t want to give up on that happiness. And though her shoulders bowed slightly under the weight of her duty to her people and the responsibility she had to see them settled in these new lands, Jaina also wanted to be a little bit selfish and carve out something for just herself as well. So… so that’s what she would do.
“Rognak. I saved your life… because I want to be with you. Because somehow, somewhere along the way… you have managed to secure a place for yourself in my heart.”
Jaina blushes even harder the moment the words are out. She’d just said such a cheesy thing… and with his finger still pressed up between her thighs too. Wiggling atop his digit, the mage almost wants to flee, to use her magic to blink away and run. But she doesn’t. She needs to know he’s heard her. And more, she NEEDS to hear his answer in turn.
“Jaina… I am happy to be more than just friends. To… explore a relationship with you in the long-term, now that we have saved Kalimdor and achieved a lasting peace, hopefully. However, you should know… I cannot discard Shandris. She has confessed similar feelings for me.”
Blinking, Jaina processes the orc’s words, spoken in a grave tone. She finally lifts her head, looking him in the eye for a moment before smiling brightly.
“Is that… is that all?”
He looks a little taken aback by that, even as Jaina pushes up onto her tip toes, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. The mage is quite tall for a human, but face to face with an orc, her height barely gives her any sort of advantage. Still, she can at least do this much. Pushing up on her toes, his finger still pressing against her core, Jaina kisses Rognak. He grunts… and then wraps his free arm around her waist, hoisting her up into his hold and kissing her back.
For a long moment, that’s all they do with one another. Making out slowly, tenderly. It’s nice to just… have a moment alone with him. Shandris had been a whirlwind that had come into Jaina’s life and forced her to confront some uncomfortable truths about herself and what she wanted. And while Jaina would never not be grateful to the Night Elf Sentinel, she had to admit she was glad now to be able to speak her mind to Rognak without Shandris being present.
When they finally pull apart, Jaina smiles at Rognak, her eyes dancing with mirth.
“I do not mind sharing you with her, Rognak. Shandris Feathermoon is… a very aggressive sort. She knows what she wants and she moves to take it. I can respect that. So long as I can have a place in your heart as you have a place in mine… I do not require anything more. The three of us shared something physical before. I see no reason that we all can’t share something beyond the physical as well.”
Rognak looks blown away for all of a moment, before seizing upon her with a happy growl. Lifting her up even further, Jaina lets out a yelp followed by a breathless laugh as she wraps her legs around his waist as best she can in the same way her arms are wrapped around his neck. Of course, then he falls back with her, landing hard on the floor though to no ill-effect that she can see.
Straddling him, sitting atop him, Jaina blushes as she feels his erection beginning to grow and press against her from below. Wasting no time, wanting to give him no chance to change his mind on her, the Lady Proudmoore reaches down and hikes up her robes, lifting her skirts and tugging her panties to the side. His finger is thus replaced with his cock, only for Jaina to gasp as she feels the huge slab of orcish meat pressing up against her.
She’d almost forgotten just how BIG he was. Having him inside of her that first time… Jaina was almost grateful for Shandris’ efforts in preparing her for Rognak’s size. She couldn’t say one way or the other whether the orc druid was particularly gifted for his race or not. But one thing was certain… orc phalluses were not exactly made for humans in mind.
That hadn’t stopped Jaina from taking him while Shandris had her bound up and presented as a tribute to the well-endowed druid. And it wouldn’t stop her from taking him now. Still, Jaina can’t help but wince a little bit, as she fits his mammoth-sized cockhead against her slit and begins to try to wiggle down his length. A soft whimper leaves her lips, prompting Rognak’s hands to fall upon her hips as he grunts.
“Here… let me help.”
Jaina isn’t sure what he does next… only that it works. An application of some sort of Nature Magic, maybe? Either way, all she knows is one moment her cunt, despite being wet with arousal, is struggling to slide down his length. The next, she’s beyond wet, she’s positively sopping… and her pussy stretches like it’s only done once before as she slowly slides along his shaft, impaling herself upon his cock.
A throaty, wanton moan leaves Jaina’s throat as she finds herself straddling him properly, her hands coming down to rest on his incredibly broad, orcish chest. Rognak, meanwhile, looks up at her with a smile, his hands still resting on his hips. He’s not doing anything though. He’s letting her take him at her own pace.
Making a split second decision, Jaina reaches down and yanks her robes up and over her head, taking them off altogether. Exposing herself, she quickly removes her bra as well, tossing it aside. Clad only in her panties which at this point are pulled to the side to allow him access and could only be removed by ripping them off entirely, Jaina leans forward, placing another kiss on Rognak’s mouth as she presses her tits into his chest.
Her rock hard nipples rub against his burly green chest in a most satisfying manner, even as she moans against his lips. Down below, her pussy pulses around his cock, her insides clenching and squeezing all along his massive length. Initially, she does what she does because she’s too afraid to move. But once she’s stripped down to practically nothing and is rubbing her nude body against him… Jaina overcomes that fear.
Slowly, she lifts her ass up into the air, sliding inch after inch of Rognak’s thick green prick out of her squeezing, sucking cunt. Her inner walls and pussy lips try to hold onto him for dear life until she reaches the halfway point, at which time they start trying to push the intruder out with all their might instead. Jaina isn’t about to let them have their way though, regardless.
With a cry muffled by Rognak’s mouth, the Lady Proudmoore positively SLAMS herself back down his length. She moans into his lips as she fills herself back up with his dick, only to pull up and then do it again.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the air. It feels so good, to drive herself down and impale herself upon Rognak’s cock over and over. And he seems to agree, if his grunts and groans are anything to go off of. His hands, large and orcish that they are, slide up and down her body, groping and squeezing different parts of her plush, voluptuous figure.
Jaina knows she’s not like Shandris. She has a human’s body… and a mage’s body besides. She’s soft and pillowy in all the right places to make Rognak happy though, just as she imagines Shandris is taut and firm in all the right places as well. In a way, they’re two sides of femininity, making them well-positioned to share a lover as versatile and virile as Rognak between them.
Or so Jaina tells herself. Obviously, polyamory is not something that the young woman ever thought she would be finding herself engaging in. Events have led to a set of circumstances that leave her happiness on the line, however. And for that, she will stop at nothing to have Rognak. This she’s decided. She made that decision when she let Shandris tie her up just so Jaina could have a chance with the orc. She’d made the decision again when she’d saved him from certain death at the hands of the Defiler.
It felt like life had been doing nothing but beating her down for a long time now. Only her purpose had really kept her going. First in trying to stop the Plague alongside Arthas, and then when that failed so catastrophically, she’d turned to a new purpose of evacuating as many people to Kalimdor as possible. And she still had a purpose. She still had people who were counting on her to lead them and protect them.
But at the same time, Jaina had decided she would grab onto this happiness with both hands and never let go. As she bounces upon Rognak’s cock, as she rides him and moans and quakes atop his member, Jaina knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s going to hold tight.
A particularly powerful thrust leaves her tipping over the edge and climaxing upon the orc druid’s member. A quivering, shivering, trembling orgasm runs through her body as Jaina moans even louder into Rognak’s mouth. He holds her steady, his hands having settled on her ass, his fingers digging into her plush, pillowy backside.
She’s glad he finds it to his liking. She’s glad he finds all of her to his liking. A moment after she cums for him, Rognak groans and cums for her in turn. His seed spills forth from his cock, his churning balls letting loose a torrent of a load that fills and fills her womb. Jaina gasps as she’s stuffed for the second time to the brim, shuddering as she feels herself growing more and more bloated in such a satisfying way.
By the time he’s done, she feels… packed with his seed. Just the way she likes it, at that. Shivering, Jaina pulls back, running her hands down her body, across her breasts and her pronounced nipples and over her distended abdomen. And she smiles down at Rognak, knowing that this… this was the beginning of the rest of their future together.
Azeroth was saved. Archimonde was dead. And the peoples of Kalimdor had come together to make that happen. She and her people might not be able to join with the Horde, but Jaina wouldn’t let the peace and camaraderie they’d managed to achieve disappear without a fight. She would hold onto it just as hard as she intended to hold onto Rognak. She refused to let any of it slip through her fingers.
For now though… she drops forward onto Rognak’s chest again after pulling herself up off of his cock. She cuddles with him in the afterglow of their coupling, and smiles as he holds her to him, wrapping her up in his big, strong arms. For now, they could rest. They’d more than earned it.
The celebration is well under way and Thrall, Warchief of the Horde, can’t help but feel a swell of happiness as he stands alongside Cairne and Vol’jin, looking out over a massive party where all three groups who had stood in defense of Kalimdor can be seen peacefully comingling. If you had told him that his people would not only one day fight side by side with humans, but also celebrate with them afterwards… Thrall isn’t sure he would have believed it.
But he cannot deny what is taking place right before his eyes. Orcs, Tauren, and Trolls exchange hearty laughter with Night Elves, Humans, Gnomes, and Dwarves. They might have been split between their different bases during the battle, but now, after the fact, they engage in casual camaraderie that Thrall has to admit… makes him hopeful for the future.
Indeed, that is why he stands with Cairne and Vol’jin now. Thrall has already spoken with his orcish lieutenants, the Chieftains of the Orc Clans who have followed him from Lordaeron all the way to Kalimdor. They stand at his back even now, ready to follow him into a brighter future for their people. Their victory over the Legion, to say nothing of the alliances they’ve managed to make since coming to these lands, has only served to further the trust that his people have in him. Needless to say, Thrall’s leadership of the Orcish Horde is not likely to be questioned any time soon.
But at the same time, is this not supposed to be a New Horde? Even in the Old Horde, there were more than just orcs. There were the ogres who traveled with them from Draenor, and the Amani Trolls who allied with them against the High Elves of Quel’Thalas. While Thrall had no intention of waging a war of conquest like his predecessors, that did not mean he should ignore everything they did. Especially Orgrim Doomhammer, who made allies of the disparate and downtrodden.
Looking to his companions, Thrall grunts, drawing their attention over to him as he takes a swig of the grog in his mug. It burns going down, as good grog should.
“My friends… I would speak of our future. Of the future of our peoples. What say the two of you?”
There is quiet for a moment, before Cairne speaks up first, voice rumbling in his chest.
“Hmm… the Bloodhoof Tribe will always owe you and your orcs much, Warchief. Your Horde… I would be honored to have my Tribe join it. However, I seen an opportunity for more… an opportunity that you yourself have made possible with your actions.”
Thrall blinks at that, inclining his head in acknowledgment for Cairne to continue. After getting his thoughts in order, the Tauren Chieftain does exactly that.
“For longer than I have walked this world, my people have suffered at the cruel predations of the centaurs, the quilboar, and the harpies. The centaurs most of all. With your people’s help, the Bloodhoof Tribe has done the unthinkable. We have managed to drive the centaur out of Mulgore and claimed the grasslands of our ancestors for our own. For the first time in centuries, we have a chance to build something new.”
Looking out over the celebration, Cairne’s eyes look almost misty… though Thrall acknowledges that that might be a trick of the light.
“I wish to return to Mulgore with my Tribe and create a refuge there. Not just for the courageous Bloodhoof Braves who helped save Kalimdor from the Legion… but for all of the Tauren Tribes. I believe, now that we have a chance to build ourselves a home, that the tauren of Kalimdor will come flocking. And I believe, once they see what friendship with you and your orcs has wrought, they will see the wisdom in joining your Horde officially.”
Turning to him fully, Cairne drops to one knee and bows his head, placing a fist on his chest.
“I say to you now, Warchief Thrall. Ask it of me and I will remain. I and my Bloodhoof Braves will join you and your Horde here and now. But release us to return to the grasslands… and I will bring you tenfold what you have now.”
Thrall is quick to place a hand on his friend’s broad shoulder, feeling immediately uncomfortable at Cairne’s show of support.
“Please my friend, please rise.”
Cairne does so, even as Thrall smiles.
“As always, your wisdom is unmatched Cairne. You need not ask me for permission to do something that will undeniably benefit your people. Nor are you my servant, for me to order around and abuse. Go, Chieftain of the Bloodhoof Tribe. Return to Mulgore. Create a home for your people. Rally the tauren to your cause. And when you return to me, I will happily clasp arms with you… as brother.”
Cairne bows his head, and Thralls nods at the honorable tauren. Then, he looks to Vol’jin. The Shadow Hunter chuckles, crouching low to the ground as was his people’s preference.
“Ah. I cannot be offerin’ ya such heady promises, Warchief. Dey Trolls of Kalimdor not be so easily swayed, I’m afraid. My people have long memories, mon. Dey remember their Empires, even to dis day.”
Shaking himself, Vol’jin snorts.
“Dey also not all be as nice as dey Darkspear Tribe. Hm. But… we never be forgettin’ what the Horde did for us neither. Dis be my solemn vow, as Chieftain of dey Darkspear. From now until da end, we fight for you, Warchief. For da Horde.”
That’s more than fair. Indeed, Cairne’s heady promise had already taken Thrall aback. He knew better than to expect that Vol’jin would be able to do the same with his own people’s tribes. The Trolls, from what Thrall knew, were scattered all across the face of Azeroth, whereas the Tauren had never left Kalimdor before.
Nodding to Vol’jin, Thrall smiles warmly.
“I require nothing else from you, my friend. For the Horde.”
Before any of them can speak again, a female voice suddenly rings out from the party.
“A toast! A toast, please!”
All eyes, including Thrall and his allies, turn towards Lady Jaina Proudmoore as she holds up a cup. No one hesitates to hold a cup of their own up or go and find one as well. No one dares to sneer or turn away from the woman who saved so many of them from the jaws of death with her powerful arcane magic. Without Jaina’s teleportation, many more of both her own people and the Horde would have died during the Battle for Mount Hyjal. That is indisputable.
Holding her glass high, Jaina speaks loudly and clearly as silence falls over the celebration, everyone listening to her words.
“A toast to Duke Lionheart, Paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand! A brave man. A good fighter. A stalwart knight. Even in his advanced age, he followed me across the sea to this strange, unknown place. He fought with me to protect our new home, and he fought alongside all of us to save Azeroth from the Burning Legion. He and his fellow knights fell in honorable battle, so that I and others might survive, so that we might escape. Please… to Duke Lionheart!”
“Duke Lionheart!”
“Sir Lionheart!”
“For the Silver Hand!”
Cries rise up among Jaina’s people at first, but the toast is quickly taken up by others as well. Thrall smiles as he sees orcs raise their mugs and let out roars, beating their chests with fists in honor of the human warrior. Thrall himself, raises his mug and does the same, remembering Duke Lionheart well. He might not have known the human paladin personally, but in his handful of interactions with him, he’d never got the impression that the man blamed any of them for the actions of the Old Horde. A rare and honorable individual indeed.
That said, something Jaina has said prompts Thrall to step forward, even as the cries start to die down. When people begin to notice him, they fall silent all the quicker, and his orcs begin stomping their feet, drawing more and more attention to the Orc Warchief. Jaina herself turns his way, even as Thrall holds his mug up to HER next.
“Another toast. A toast to Lady Jaina Proudmoore. If not for her magic, I and my warriors would not have escaped the Legion’s advance. To fall in battle protecting your home is a warrior’s greatest honor. But to live to fight another day… is priceless. And we still have much to do here on Kalimdor! To Lady Proudmoore! To our new home!”
More cries. More roars. Jaina blushes but smiles and dips her head, accepting the praise without comment. Of course, now that Jaina and Thrall have both done it, things quickly become a series of toasts from all sorts of people to others. Be they fallen heroes, or even living warriors who had comported themselves well in battle.
The following toasts are smaller affairs, with smaller groups cheering for them as they start up all over the party. Meanwhile, Jaina makes her way over to Thrall as he steps back to where Cairne and Vol’jin await her. She gives them each a nod of her head, acknowledging them before sipping from her glass. Thrall, after a moment’s hesitation, goes for broke.
“We were just discussing the future of the Horde, Lady Proudmoore. I wonder… how do you see yourself fitting into that future if you don’t mind me asking?”
It’s possible she’ll take his question as an unintended insult, but Thrall considers it worth the risk. Of course, the moment she processes his words and freezes in place, he knows that the best case scenario is too much to hope for.
“I… apologies. I will be blunt. I do not see my people ever joining the Horde, Warchief. I acknowledge that your New Horde is not like the Old… but you are still orcs. And as much as we have proven that humans and orcs cannot only fight side by side but also live in harmony with one another… my people will never accept putting themselves under the leadership of an Orc Warchief. And I would be doing a disservice to them if I tried to force the issue. It’s simply a bridge too far.”
Jaina looks pained as she says this. But Thrall understands. More than that, it was only to be expected. She’s right, after all. It’s one thing for Cairne and Vol’jin to swear loyalty to him and his Horde. But Jaina represents people who have suffered at the hands of orcs in the past. And while those wounds have healed, the scars that remain will forever run deep.
Tilting his head towards Jaina to show there is no offense, Thrall rumbles.
“I understand, Lady Proudmoore. You are right, of course.”
Jaina smiles a weak smile and takes another sip from her glass before throwing out a lifeline.
“Still, I do not believe that precludes there being peace between our two peoples. Already, my ships are scouting the coastline of Kalimdor for a suitable place to build a harbor. Given that the vast majority of able-bodied men I brought from Lordaeron have at least some sailing background by this point, we think it best that we build our new home on the coast… if not an island, if a suitable one can be found. I shall make sure that word is sent when we decide where we are settling down roots. There is no reason that our two peoples cannot peacefully coexist, especially when Kalimdor is such a big place.”
She sounds hopeful. Eager, even. It’s obvious that the thought of settling somewhere fills Jaina with excitement. And honestly, that excitement is infectious. But Thrall still finds himself feeling a little… cynical. He hums, about to reply… when Jaina suddenly perks up. Her gaze has caught upon something off in the distance… or rather someone. Before Thrall can speak, she turns back to them and bows her head respectfully.
“It has been a pleasure, but I must be off. Thank you for your time.”
And with that, the human mage moves back into the crowded celebration… making a beeline for a certain Warsong Chieftain who has just showed his face at long last. As Jaina goes to Rognak, Thrall watches the two of them, not entirely sure what to think if he’s being honest. At his sides, Cairne and Vol’jin both have their own thoughts on the matter.
“Heh. Well, if nothing else, it would seem the ties between orcs and humans might be able to get even stronger with some more time.”
“Aye, mon. Specifically the ties between dat orc and dat human, heh.”
Thrall chuckles good-naturedly at the teasing… hiding the inner turmoil that he feels as he watches Jaina encircle one of Rognak’s large, thick arms with her own and guide him away from the main area that the celebration is taking place in. It is not jealousy that Thrall is feeling right now. He does not wish he were in Rognak’s place, especially since he knows the Warsong Chieftain is currently being courted by two different women at once.
He does not envy the orc druid having to figure out how to navigate his relationships with Shandris Feathermoon and Jaina Proudmoore.
Still, a part of Thrall wonders at the bonds that Rognak is forging. After the internment of their people, the flight from Lordaeron, and the battles here on Kalimdor… the Orcish Clans have weakened in their individualism, by and large. There is no longer so much separation between the orcs who remain. They are, for the first time in history, all one people, all one Horde in TRUTH.
Save for one. The Warsong Clan still stands a step apart from the rest of the Horde. With their druids and their bonds with the Night Elves, they have the most Clan Identity remaining. This in and of itself is not a bad thing, but combined with Rognak’s actions, many of which are taken without consulting his Warchief… sometimes Thrall wonders if Rognak truly sees him as his superior. Or if the Warsong Chieftain instead views them as peers.
Thrall is not so small-minded that he needs to be kowtowed or bowed to in submission or subservience. But for all the good Rognak has done for their people, he will always be the orc who killed Thrall’s brother. And while Grommash might have forgiven Rognak for his actions, Thrall isn’t so sure he’ll ever be able to do the same.
… Even still, Thrall would not allow himself to fall into a spiral of self-doubt. The future was brighter than ever, and he would be doing a disservice both to himself and the Horde if he started chasing shadows and making enemies where there were none.
Rognak was an ally. And his bonds with the Night Elves and Humans would hopefully only enrich and strengthen the Horde in the end. And if they did not… well, Thrall would cross that bridge when he came to it, he supposed.
-x-X-x-
“Jaina, I-!”
“Shhh…”
Jaina blushes as she insistently tugs on his hand. Fortunately, despite a frown on his face, the large orc druid doesn’t fight her. After all, she knows full well that she doesn’t have the stature or the physical strength to move him if he doesn’t want to be moved. Not without magic anyways, and she’s obviously not going to resort to that.
Luckily, he allows her to pull him along, letting her drag him a little way away from the party and to a more secluded area. Once Jaina deems them far enough away from everyone else, the human mage turns to him. Then, she takes the hand she’s been pulling on and carefully uncurls his index finger from it… before sliding that finger down between her legs and up against her crotch.
Her breath hitches as the hefty, thick, orcish finger makes contact with her sex, albeit with her robes and undergarments between their flesh. Nevertheless, Jaina is sure that Rognak can feel just how warm her core is. No doubt he can smell just how aroused she is right now, her insides hot and needy. But… it’s more than physical need. It’s so much more than that.
“Jaina…”
Rognak says her name somewhat slowly, looking into her eyes as she stares back at him with a bright red blush across her features. He doesn’t try to remove his finger though. Nor does he move it, however. Instead, as she finds herself resting upon that digit, he looks at her and smiles softly.
“I haven’t gotten the chance to thank you properly, yet. You saved my life.”
That, at least, is easy enough to respond to. Thrusting out her chin, Jaina shakes her head.
“No need for thanks. I was just… just doing my duty. Nothing more.”
Rognak scoffs at that, his finger still pressed against her core. She probably shouldn’t be enjoying the contact as much as he is, but… well, he is an orc. His sole green finger is as big as a human’s… well, it’s big, suffice to say. And she likes that he’s not removing it while they have this conversation.
“Don’t try to downplay it. Your duty was to your people and the Warchief and his forces. No one expected you to have any mana left for anything beyond that, and drinking more potions than you’d already had must have put you in danger. You risked yourself to save me, Jaina. I owe you my life.”
Biting her lower lip, Jaina leans forward and presses her forehead into Rognak’s chest.
“… I don’t accept it. You owe me n-nothing. I did what I did for purely selfish reasons. There were probably others I could have saved, after all. But I chose you. Because…”
She trails off here, almost not trusting herself to speak. In that moment, Jaina finds herself thinking back to the conversation she just had with Thrall and the others back at the party. The same reasons that she’d given the Orc Warchief for why her and her people could never join the Horde officially… they sort of held true for why Jaina SHOULDN’T be considering going through with this confession right now. And yet…
The battle was over. Their world was saved. And most importantly of all, both her and Rognak had survived. With things all said and done, Jaina was forced to confront her feelings regarding the night of passion that she had shared with the orc druid and Shandris Feathermoon. She was forced to acknowledge a simple truth… she had never been happier.
She didn’t want to give up on that happiness. And though her shoulders bowed slightly under the weight of her duty to her people and the responsibility she had to see them settled in these new lands, Jaina also wanted to be a little bit selfish and carve out something for just herself as well. So… so that’s what she would do.
“Rognak. I saved your life… because I want to be with you. Because somehow, somewhere along the way… you have managed to secure a place for yourself in my heart.”
Jaina blushes even harder the moment the words are out. She’d just said such a cheesy thing… and with his finger still pressed up between her thighs too. Wiggling atop his digit, the mage almost wants to flee, to use her magic to blink away and run. But she doesn’t. She needs to know he’s heard her. And more, she NEEDS to hear his answer in turn.
“Jaina… I am happy to be more than just friends. To… explore a relationship with you in the long-term, now that we have saved Kalimdor and achieved a lasting peace, hopefully. However, you should know… I cannot discard Shandris. She has confessed similar feelings for me.”
Blinking, Jaina processes the orc’s words, spoken in a grave tone. She finally lifts her head, looking him in the eye for a moment before smiling brightly.
“Is that… is that all?”
He looks a little taken aback by that, even as Jaina pushes up onto her tip toes, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders. The mage is quite tall for a human, but face to face with an orc, her height barely gives her any sort of advantage. Still, she can at least do this much. Pushing up on her toes, his finger still pressing against her core, Jaina kisses Rognak. He grunts… and then wraps his free arm around her waist, hoisting her up into his hold and kissing her back.
For a long moment, that’s all they do with one another. Making out slowly, tenderly. It’s nice to just… have a moment alone with him. Shandris had been a whirlwind that had come into Jaina’s life and forced her to confront some uncomfortable truths about herself and what she wanted. And while Jaina would never not be grateful to the Night Elf Sentinel, she had to admit she was glad now to be able to speak her mind to Rognak without Shandris being present.
When they finally pull apart, Jaina smiles at Rognak, her eyes dancing with mirth.
“I do not mind sharing you with her, Rognak. Shandris Feathermoon is… a very aggressive sort. She knows what she wants and she moves to take it. I can respect that. So long as I can have a place in your heart as you have a place in mine… I do not require anything more. The three of us shared something physical before. I see no reason that we all can’t share something beyond the physical as well.”
Rognak looks blown away for all of a moment, before seizing upon her with a happy growl. Lifting her up even further, Jaina lets out a yelp followed by a breathless laugh as she wraps her legs around his waist as best she can in the same way her arms are wrapped around his neck. Of course, then he falls back with her, landing hard on the floor though to no ill-effect that she can see.
Straddling him, sitting atop him, Jaina blushes as she feels his erection beginning to grow and press against her from below. Wasting no time, wanting to give him no chance to change his mind on her, the Lady Proudmoore reaches down and hikes up her robes, lifting her skirts and tugging her panties to the side. His finger is thus replaced with his cock, only for Jaina to gasp as she feels the huge slab of orcish meat pressing up against her.
She’d almost forgotten just how BIG he was. Having him inside of her that first time… Jaina was almost grateful for Shandris’ efforts in preparing her for Rognak’s size. She couldn’t say one way or the other whether the orc druid was particularly gifted for his race or not. But one thing was certain… orc phalluses were not exactly made for humans in mind.
That hadn’t stopped Jaina from taking him while Shandris had her bound up and presented as a tribute to the well-endowed druid. And it wouldn’t stop her from taking him now. Still, Jaina can’t help but wince a little bit, as she fits his mammoth-sized cockhead against her slit and begins to try to wiggle down his length. A soft whimper leaves her lips, prompting Rognak’s hands to fall upon her hips as he grunts.
“Here… let me help.”
Jaina isn’t sure what he does next… only that it works. An application of some sort of Nature Magic, maybe? Either way, all she knows is one moment her cunt, despite being wet with arousal, is struggling to slide down his length. The next, she’s beyond wet, she’s positively sopping… and her pussy stretches like it’s only done once before as she slowly slides along his shaft, impaling herself upon his cock.
A throaty, wanton moan leaves Jaina’s throat as she finds herself straddling him properly, her hands coming down to rest on his incredibly broad, orcish chest. Rognak, meanwhile, looks up at her with a smile, his hands still resting on his hips. He’s not doing anything though. He’s letting her take him at her own pace.
Making a split second decision, Jaina reaches down and yanks her robes up and over her head, taking them off altogether. Exposing herself, she quickly removes her bra as well, tossing it aside. Clad only in her panties which at this point are pulled to the side to allow him access and could only be removed by ripping them off entirely, Jaina leans forward, placing another kiss on Rognak’s mouth as she presses her tits into his chest.
Her rock hard nipples rub against his burly green chest in a most satisfying manner, even as she moans against his lips. Down below, her pussy pulses around his cock, her insides clenching and squeezing all along his massive length. Initially, she does what she does because she’s too afraid to move. But once she’s stripped down to practically nothing and is rubbing her nude body against him… Jaina overcomes that fear.
Slowly, she lifts her ass up into the air, sliding inch after inch of Rognak’s thick green prick out of her squeezing, sucking cunt. Her inner walls and pussy lips try to hold onto him for dear life until she reaches the halfway point, at which time they start trying to push the intruder out with all their might instead. Jaina isn’t about to let them have their way though, regardless.
With a cry muffled by Rognak’s mouth, the Lady Proudmoore positively SLAMS herself back down his length. She moans into his lips as she fills herself back up with his dick, only to pull up and then do it again.
The sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the air. It feels so good, to drive herself down and impale herself upon Rognak’s cock over and over. And he seems to agree, if his grunts and groans are anything to go off of. His hands, large and orcish that they are, slide up and down her body, groping and squeezing different parts of her plush, voluptuous figure.
Jaina knows she’s not like Shandris. She has a human’s body… and a mage’s body besides. She’s soft and pillowy in all the right places to make Rognak happy though, just as she imagines Shandris is taut and firm in all the right places as well. In a way, they’re two sides of femininity, making them well-positioned to share a lover as versatile and virile as Rognak between them.
Or so Jaina tells herself. Obviously, polyamory is not something that the young woman ever thought she would be finding herself engaging in. Events have led to a set of circumstances that leave her happiness on the line, however. And for that, she will stop at nothing to have Rognak. This she’s decided. She made that decision when she let Shandris tie her up just so Jaina could have a chance with the orc. She’d made the decision again when she’d saved him from certain death at the hands of the Defiler.
It felt like life had been doing nothing but beating her down for a long time now. Only her purpose had really kept her going. First in trying to stop the Plague alongside Arthas, and then when that failed so catastrophically, she’d turned to a new purpose of evacuating as many people to Kalimdor as possible. And she still had a purpose. She still had people who were counting on her to lead them and protect them.
But at the same time, Jaina had decided she would grab onto this happiness with both hands and never let go. As she bounces upon Rognak’s cock, as she rides him and moans and quakes atop his member, Jaina knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that she’s going to hold tight.
A particularly powerful thrust leaves her tipping over the edge and climaxing upon the orc druid’s member. A quivering, shivering, trembling orgasm runs through her body as Jaina moans even louder into Rognak’s mouth. He holds her steady, his hands having settled on her ass, his fingers digging into her plush, pillowy backside.
She’s glad he finds it to his liking. She’s glad he finds all of her to his liking. A moment after she cums for him, Rognak groans and cums for her in turn. His seed spills forth from his cock, his churning balls letting loose a torrent of a load that fills and fills her womb. Jaina gasps as she’s stuffed for the second time to the brim, shuddering as she feels herself growing more and more bloated in such a satisfying way.
By the time he’s done, she feels… packed with his seed. Just the way she likes it, at that. Shivering, Jaina pulls back, running her hands down her body, across her breasts and her pronounced nipples and over her distended abdomen. And she smiles down at Rognak, knowing that this… this was the beginning of the rest of their future together.
Azeroth was saved. Archimonde was dead. And the peoples of Kalimdor had come together to make that happen. She and her people might not be able to join with the Horde, but Jaina wouldn’t let the peace and camaraderie they’d managed to achieve disappear without a fight. She would hold onto it just as hard as she intended to hold onto Rognak. She refused to let any of it slip through her fingers.
For now though… she drops forward onto Rognak’s chest again after pulling herself up off of his cock. She cuddles with him in the afterglow of their coupling, and smiles as he holds her to him, wrapping her up in his big, strong arms. For now, they could rest. They’d more than earned it.
