Author's Note: After careful review of WoW, I've decided that this story will be considered slightly AU.
It would seem… Celysel thought to herself as her padded feet treaded the woods silently That I bit off a bit more than I could chew.
Her senses as a night saber were twice what they were in her natural form, so she had immediately sensed the danger that was in the distance. There were natural predators in almost every region in this world, so she had to keep her senses on high alert. Fortunately for her, the danger was quite a distance away, unfortunately for her, she sensed another presence; strong, quiet, and very, very dangerous. It was that danger which had her senses roaring, and it was because of that danger that she dared not turn back into her natural form of the Night Elf, afraid that she may attract unwanted attention. How on Azeroth did she get into this mess? Oh right, she had insisted on proving herself by going on a pilgrimage, hoping to show the council that she was not just a child, that she was more than capable of handling herself, even in battle.
Born in a middle class family, Celysel was raised with high upbringing despite her status, her father being somewhat famous in Teldrassil for doing small yet significant things to bring the Alliance along to victory. Her mother had been a dancer, and taught Celysel everything she knew, but the young Elfling wanted more than just to dance and study books, she wanted to go out into the world and explore. She was but a child, however, in the eyes of the Elven world, and going out into the world before she was barely a hundred years old was almost unheard of. She had fought and pleaded and threw herself into the studies of the Druid ways, training and conditioning herself until she began to be less of an annoyance and more of a potential asset. She had the skills, and the natural talent for Druidism, even taking and adapting to shape changing immediately, without any real proper training. She forced her people to see her as an asset for the Alliance, to the point where they could no longer deny her desire to venture forth into the world at only the tender age of 85. As she continued on in the forest her mind drifted back to when she had assigned herself to the first quest outside of Teldrassil which would take her to the city of Darnassus. That had been an interesting conversation indeed.
"I wish you would reconsider." Her father had said. He was a tall and of thick proportion despite the fact that he was getting on in his years. He was stroking his long white beard as he looked outside, his back turned to his only child and daughter. Celysel knew that her father loved her more than anything and was quite protective of her, especially after their mother was murdered by a Forsaken. And while he was a strong and capable Druid, it was indeed the case that she was his only weakness.
"I cannot Father." She said softly. She rarely raised her voice around her father, mostly because he was such a kind and gentle man and didn't like to see him upset, even though she knew her departure was breaking his heart. "My heart cannot continue to be caged, it wishes to fly free and explore, it aches as it is denied this."
Her father turned to her and smiled, but it was sad and made him look much older than he actually was. Or perhaps it made him look his age, Celysel was unsure. "You are so much like your mother." He said, walking over towards her. With gentle fingers he tilted her chin up to face him. She had always been a bit short. "You even look like her, now more than ever." His other hand lifted a few strands of her silver hair, looking at it with a sadness Celysel hoped she would never understand. "I shall only ask once more my daughter, stay. Learn and train more in the Druidic ways. There is so much more you could learn here that you would not have to learn on the outside. In truth, I fear for you my daughter. In slumber I dream dreams of you, of hardships and pain. I do not wish that for you. Stay, where you can be protected, where you can grow more and learn."
She shook her head "No, I can't." she turned away, looking out the window "Father, you have been out there, you know what it is like. Mother, she would always tell me such fascinating stories of her ventures out into the world. My heart has yearned for this since I could understand words, after all of my hard work, I cannot be denied now."
"I know." He said, and for a long moment, there was silence. Celysel thought that perhaps he had become so angry with her that he no longer desired to speak to her, but it was then that he sighed and said: "Celysel, you are my daughter and I love you, but remember this, my power only goes so far when it comes to protecting you. Remember that when you go on this quest to see the world. May the Goddess light your way."
What had he meant by that then? Celysel had no real idea, or maybe perhaps he was talking about her current situation. She was rather lost and slightly out of her league with some of the monsters here. She had almost been killed today, it had taken a lot of healing, some potions that she hadn't been able to afford losing, precious spring water that she definitely really couldn't have parted with and a lot of running which resulted in an exhausted, worn down Druid Night Elf who just wanted some water and some sleep. At an inn. A comfortable, Alliance owned inn. With a bath. Oh, how nice a hot bath sounded…
Her body paused, her nose lifting up into the air and sniffing softly, the scent of fresh water having hit her. So overjoyed by the scent her stiff and tiredness had all but been forgotten as she sped through the forest, her powerful legs and sleek body making her ideal for moving around in such an environment. Her ears listened for any nearby threats but picked up on none. Seeing this as a sign of good luck she continued on until she reached the clearing.
And then her body immediately stopped itself.
Becoming one with the animal could be difficult at times. When one was an animal, they had to make sure that they did not let the animal inside take over, or it would become difficult to transform back. Most Druids in training when practicing this technique end up having to have elders transform them back, as they completely lost themselves to the will of the animal. Sometimes it was unavoidable, like this when her body halted for her. She was glad that it had, however, because now as she calmed herself, she heard voices. Well, a voice in any case.
Her sharp eyes allowed her to see in dark as well as in day irregardless of what form she was in, so when she peeked out to get a better look, she was bit surprised at what she saw. A Troll was sitting rather lazily by the lake, her lake, laughing. He was tall and lanky even while sitting, his light blue skin only a compliment to the full moon above them. His hair was dark red, and it looked as if he had recently cut it. This tusks looked about average from the pictures she had seen of Trolls, perhaps he was from the Darkspear tribe that she had heard so much about? He wore very little, just enough to cover the sensitive spots, and his face was painted in white streaks. Beside him was a rather nasty looking pet, and it was then she realized that this Troll was a hunter and the pet was his. His gun was sitting off to the side and Celysel concluded that he was either a fool, or he wasn't afraid of anything that could possibly be waiting for him out in the wild. As he told a rather corny joke to his pet and laughed as if it was highly hilarious, the Druid was beginning to think that perhaps it was the former and not the latter of her conclusions.
As far as her knowledge went, Trolls were a nasty bunch. Creepy and mysterious, Trolls were excellent fighters and warriors, their Shaman skills were a force to be reckoned with. As a child, she had been told that they had an awful disposition and would sooner cut your throat than try to talk to you. They were lying, thieving backstabbers who thought of nothing but themselves, and, as she had been told on and on again, would sooner cut her throat than talk sense to her. While she was sure that perhaps some of what she had been told was true, Celysel had learned not to believe everything one was told.
She was naturally curious, and so instead of simply trying to start a fight and try to kill him, she laid back, flattening her ears as she watched him. He seemed quite laid back for a Troll, and his pet, whose name was Jork, seemed to be loyal and devoted to his master, although he didn't seem to care too much for his jokes. The Troll was merely talking to pass the time, taking the time to look at a fishing pole that he had sitting in the ground every now and then and sometimes gazing up at the moon. Celysel noticed that despite the fact that he was tall and rather skinny, strong and able muscles peeked through that blue skin, showing that he was indeed no pushover.
If he was a Troll, he didn't act like anything she had been told growing up. In fact, if it weren't for the fact that he was too laid back, he could pass for a Night Elf with his mannerisms. Looks, however, were a different story. Perhaps he was even civilized enough to hold a decent conversation.
Struck now with the strong desire to try and meet with a Troll for the first time and her aching desire for water that was again deciding to make its presence known, she slowly creeped out from her hiding spot in the forest, trotting silently to the lake. She was a good distance away from him, well, enough so that he couldn't physically strike her, but unfortunately she was well within range to receive a bullet. Hopefully he wasn't the shoot first ask questions later kind of person.
He didn't notice her at first. He didn't notice her at all actually, his pet did. He jerked his wolfish head up and growled, catching his master's attention. The Troll looked and saw Celysel, and she heard him make a rather appreciative noise.
"Well now, what we be havin' 'ere?" he asked, mostly to himself, as he regarded her in her night saber form. "Wut a leetl cat like you doin' all da way out 'ere?" his voice was thick with his accent, and she almost had to strain a bit to catch all of what he was saying. Trolls were indeed odd creatures.
He seemed more curious and amused by this turn of events than anything else. Instead of reaching for his gun, he leaned more away from it, as if trying to get a better look at her. His pet seemed furious at the fact that his master hadn't simply just blown her to bits, and was making his opinion known by growling rather loudly. Instead of throttling him like she assumed any Troll would do, he began to scratch the animal behind the ears, whispering something to him in his native language.
"Come now Jork, it just lil cat out fo' a drink. Watcha so uppity 'bout?" he continued to try and comfort the animal, but the growls did not cease. Sighing a bit at his companion, he didn't notice when Celysel slowly began to walk over to him, her intelligent eyes being the only thing that would betray her.
Apparently, the Troll was either oblivious or stupid, because when she began to approach him, he seemed more intrigued than anything else. She took note at the way he looked at her, as if the hunter in him was admiring a piece of art. She figured that probably some part of him would like to tame her, to make her his companion. That made him all the more curious as he was supposed to come from a race who cared about nothing but themselves. When she approached about arm's length away, she was sure that the larger animal was going to strike at her, but his master obviously had a tight hold on his loyalties, and would only strike when directed to. Celysel sat and looked at the Troll as he fully sat up, that amused grin of his never fading.
"Brave lil' cat you are." he said softly, leaning forward a bit "Ya must be hungry den. Lookin' fo' scraps are ya? Sorry mon, I gots none."
Pretending to seem satisfied with this answer, Celysel turned and began to trot away, in reality wanting to get some distance before deciding to reveal herself. He seemed pretty laid back and decent up close, but that was because he thought she was a night saber. The moment she transformed, it'd be a different story entirely. She needed to put some distance between them so she wouldn't look so much like a threat to his person. When she felt like she was at a good enough distance to not seem threatening as well as talk to the point where she didn't have to project her voice, she transformed back into her form stretching her back as she did. Being in one form besides her own for too long had its effects on her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him stiffen and within seconds he was on his feet, gun in hand, pointed towards her head.
"Watchu be doin' here Night Elf?" he asked. His voice that had been light and cheerful just a second ago was now dark and deadly. He also sounded a bit angry, and Celysel came to the conclusion it was probably because he was a tad bit miffed about the fact that she could have literally killed him from right under his nose and he wouldn't have been any the wiser until it was too late. She would have been a little peeved too. His pet was now actively barking and growling at her, as if trying to tell his master 'I told you! Kill her, kill her!'
Raising her hands in a non threatening gesture Celysel turned to him, her face carefully blank "I mean you no harm." She said softly, trying to seem as passive as possible.
She heard his gun click. "Why should I believe ya she-elf?" he asked, his eyes narrowing. She saw his finger tighten on the trigger and she felt a small rise of panic in her. What if she had been wrong and her kind right? What if he just shot her without a care?
Then he would have done so already, idiot.
Ah. This was true.
"Because," she began, crossing her arms and fixing him with a stare "I could have killed you easily just now, and I didn't." she stated the obvious fact, hoping that it'd sink in that she was not here to kill him. Her father had always told her curiosity would get the better of her one day. Maybe she should have taken his advice for a change.
Her heart slowly began to beat again when he began to lower his rifle. Not all the way, but still enough to where she didn't feel like her life was in immediate danger.
"Dat be tru…" he said a little thoughtfully and Celysel watched as his thoughtful frown turned into slight surprise and curiosity. "Why is that mon?" he asked of her, dropping his rifle. If she was trying to have idle chit-chat with him, obviously she didn't come to try and take his tusks, and that seemed fine with him. "Neva seen a Troll before 'ave ya?" his trademark smirk was back and he leaned against the rifle, his eyes now taking her in a bit differently than before. He looked her up and down with his eyes and then back to her face, his smirk blossoming into an all out grin. Obviously, he liked what he was seeing.
Celysel didn't like it.
"Actually," Celysel said sharply, getting the Troll's attention once again off her body and to her face
"I haven't. I was curious."
He raised an eyebrow at her, shifting his weight off of the rifle and slinging it over his shoulder casually, tilting his head to the side. "Curious?" he asked, his face suddenly taking in a look as if he had finally figured her out, just before he burst into laughter "Never seen…?" he couldn't even finish his sentence before his laughter almost turned into howls, as if she had said the funniest joke he had ever heard. It was insulting, to have him laugh at her like that simply because he had been the first Troll she had ever seen. The urge to throttle him was becoming high on her list of things to do.
"Leetl' she-elf you…"
"Celysel." She snapped, raising her chin at him in her small sign of defiance. It was an old habit of hers really; she had always thought it made her look rather aristocratic. "I have a name; it is Celysel, not she-elf." That idiotic name that he was giving her was beginning to grate on her nerves. Who the hell did he think he was anyway, to laugh at her?
"Right." He said, shaking his head, his laughter reduced back to his grin as he regarded her "My apologies." He mock-bowed at her. Now he was making fun of her mannerisms, she just knew it!
"Y…." at this point she really did want to go over there and choke him. She was trying to be friendly and he was making fun of her! How rude! "Why you tall, lanky, idiotic…" she was running out of names to call him "How dare you make fun of me because I've never met a Troll, when you're so blind you let a night saber, who's not even indigenous to this area walk right up to you without questioning it once!"
He shrugged "Some idiot let'is pet git away?" he suggested, obviously not bothered at all by their earlier encounter "Preety common 'round 'ere leetl' she-elf."
"My name is not…oh why bother with you?" she fumed, completely frustrated with this entire encounter. This…this creature was insufferable, completely and utterly insufferable. He was rude and he made fun of her and he did everything but try to have a decent conversation with him. He overall was just annoying as well, and if that damned pet of his didn't stop his insistent growling…
"Yah mon, why bother?" he wanted to know. His face still held its grin, but his tone was nothing less than deadly serious. It caught her attention and she turned to look at him, amazed at how cheerful he could look and still seem so dangerous at the same time. How had she ever thought she could have killed this creature?
Celysel found herself at a loss for words. In her shame she turned away from him, not wanting him to see her face. "I…I…"
There was a sigh and then she heard footsteps. It only took him a few strides with those long legs of his before he was standing beside her, and she felt thick fingers touch her chin and tilt her head towards him, and suddenly she felt comforted. Her father always did that with her, it had the same effect.
"It ain't safe fer leetl' she-elves to be playin' at night 'round 'ere." He said softly "Ya should be gettin' yerself ta shelter, if ya know what be good fer ya."
She could do nothing but nod mutely at him, disappointed at how this encounter had gone. She had learned nothing about him, except that while playful, he could be serious at the same time. Her mind began to race as she realized that not only had this Troll warned her of danger, he had also touched her gently. While not intimate, it was still a total shock. Horde did not associate with Alliance, not even to this degree. Had she missed something?
And then, without warning, his hand left her chin and he walked over to his pack, hefting the somewhat large object as if it weighed nothing, and perhaps to him it didn't. Patting his pet on the neck affectionately he began to disappear back into the woods from which he came from, but before he did, he turned his head slightly toward her direction.
"Lorkan." He said and then fully turned to her, grinning "Da name's Lorkan. Be seein' ya." And with a slight wave, he turned and was gone.
It was only after many minutes did she finally move, and it was only then that she realized she had been shaking. From what? He had no intention of killing her during the entire time they had encountered each other when he knew she wasn't a threat, so why was she shaking?
Be seein' ya.
"I very much doubt it." She said to the shadows once she regained her composure. As she quickly refilled on water and departed the forest, however, she knew that deep down inside, somehow this was only the beginning.
Wat 'n interstin' girl dat was. Lorkan thought to himself as he walked through the forest. Jork was still a little annoyed at him for being ignored when he had tried to warn his master, so Lorkan fed him some extra supper and gave him some extra petting, just to make him feel a little better, and as an apology. Indeed, he had made a grave mistake today, not realizing that the saber was in fact, a Night Elf, an enemy. The fact that she was just a fledgling was what had kind of irked him, seeing as he'd fought much stronger enemies and came out somewhat unscathed. Was he slipping? Nah, couldn't be. But despite the fact that he had acted like a pure fool out there in the clearing, he did find the elf to be entertaining and amusing, not to mention easy on the eyes. Or maybe seeing nothing but Orc women was beginning to have an effect on him. Nope, Night Elf women were naturally beautiful, he already knew that.
End Note: Hey the story is back! Where did it go?
Well, truth is, stress was hitting me hard, and it was getting to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. Some things had to go. I removed this story and wasn't going to submit it when someone e-mailed me one day and said "Hey, someone recommended me to your fic!" It was probably the best thing anyone had ever said to me about my writing, and it really made me feel good. It also made me want to finish this story, because I love Celysel and Lorkan, and despite my overall disappointment with the story, you guys liked it, and I owed it to you.
So here it is, all 10 chapters. I'm currently debating on writing a second half, however, it will not be released to the public until finished. So until then, consider this to be the last and final chapter on Lorkan and Celysel.
Also, I would like to let the readers know now that this story is not correct to the WoW timeline. Thusly, you may consider it to be slightly AU. Remember this when you make your reviews. Thanks.