The Commander's OTP
"Again? We only returned from a scouting mission yesterday!" Aeda Brightdawn narrowed her eyes at the orc opposite her, flipping her golden hair over her shoulder. The brown orc at her side nodded his agreement.
Warmaster Zog was used to people complaining – he'd been a general for years, for fel's sake! The orcs as a race were known for their strength and viciousness in battle, but luckily few of their enemies knew how incredibly lazy most of his kin were. This was an entirely different matter though. The blood elf was correct in assuming their week-long mission deserved at least a few days' rest. Regrettably, their commander had quite a different opinion, and in Zog's eyes, not a very good reason for it.
"The Commander, eh, commands it!" Oh, very eloquently put Zog, now she'll definitely not think you're stupid. He puffed up his chest and continued: "The Warsong clan has not been disrupting the trade routes for several days and we need to know what brought this change."
"The commander thinks they're up to something?" Gronnstalker Rokash, standing half a step behind the annoyed blood elf woman, inquired in a gruff voice.
Warmaster Zog blinked, that was an excellent reason! "Yes, that's exactly what he thinks – but I should not need to explain his reasoning – you should simply follow orders," he said, careful not to show his smirk at the slightly ashamed look on their faces.
"You are to go to Nagrand, make camp in the Spirit Woods – near the waterfalls – and keep an eye on the Warsong clan. Yala, in the tavern, has prepared your supplies. I expect you to leave before nightfall and not come back before you have something to report!"
Aeda's face tightened for a second and she took a step back to avoid the spit flying out of the orc's mouth. Her fists clenching, she unconsciously reached for her mana to begin casting a spell. Rokash, sensing her ire, quickly put his hand on her shoulder to calm her down.
"Yessir! We will begin preparations at once," he replied, pulling the woman away. "Come on Aeda."
The warlock nodded and smiled coldly at Warmaster Zog before walking out of the Town Hall with the orc hunter. Zog swallowed slightly – despite her small stature, the woman could look very menacing if she wanted to.
"I thought da Commandah made sure da Warsong wouldn't bothah us anymore aftah da last time he went dere," Shadow Hunter Ukambe questioned after the pair had left.
Warmaster Zog sighed. Of course he had. While the Commander was an extremely capable shaman, he was also one of the silliest men Zog ever had the misfortune to meet. "He did," he simply replied.
"Sooo, why send dem ta Nagrand den?"
Zog really didn't want to answer that question. Answering that question would mean admitting it out loud.
"Warmastah?" the Shadow Hunter prodded.
The orc lowered his head, as if speaking to the floor. "He is sending them to the Spirit Woods because the view is pretty. The supplies they're getting from Yala are a picnic. And the reason those two are going is because the Commander thinks they would look cute together." There, he said it.
Zog chanced to look up when he heard a wheezing noise from the corner. Ukambe had erupted in hoarse laughter and was trying his best to contain it.
"Ehehehehe, he's right, mon! Dey would look cute togethah! And jus' imagine dere kids!" the troll was having trouble standing upright now, clutching his stomach with one hand and wiping his eyes with the other.
The warmaster sighed again and began walking out of the building, trying to leave the madness behind. Trolls – ferocious in battle, but never a serious moment! He had been so very proud when Saurfang had recommended him to handle the missions on Draenor, but now he was starting to wonder if the older orc had known that the senseless troll shaman would become Commander of the garrison when he turned down the offer. Sneaky old bastard. Zog turned to head to the Frostwall Tavern, because if there was something he'd learnt during his time with the dwarves in Ironforge, it was that there was no problem that mead couldn't fix - even the visions of blond, mischievous warlock babies with tusks and fel-green eyes. He shuddered. Maybe he needed a stronger drink.
A/N: Oh, come on! I know I can't be the only one doing it... ;)
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