At one with the Worg
The trees began to yellow and the leaves fell to cover the cobbled streets, as autumn descended in earnest over the Eastern Kingdoms. Fires were kindled in stone hearths throughout the city, as the first traces of frost tinged the air. Sasha used this time to work with Frostfyre every day, and as she did so, her connection to the half-grown pup became ever stronger. At times she was sure she was inside her companion's head and could order her to obey simple commands.
Her father watched on, and even he could see that the bond was far deeper than just a girl's love, for an unfortunate rescue. The beastmaster in him sensed that perhaps, one day his daughter may indeed fully mind-meld with her unlikely companion. He didn't know what would happen then, but he was glad his daughter had found resilience, and solace after her ordeal. He had seen many an orc captive, return to their family, a shell of the person they had been prior. Every day he was thankful, that his daughter seemed to possess an unusual strength, and of that, he was in awe and most proud.
Graham Trias often visited, but as yet there was still no marriage date. Aunt Evelyn was very bothered by this and told her niece repeatedly she liked it not. Sasha was glad, she didn't really wish to be roped into this marriage, and she was going to enjoy her freedom of sorts while it lasted. Though regrettably, there were no frequent sorties into Elwynn as she had been allowed in the past. The young woman tried to tell herself it was for the best, and she must get used to the idea of staying within the city walls and complying with more domestic pursuits.
Sasha and her cousin frequently corresponded, by now Erin had learned of Sasha's medal of bravery, and the circumstances that surrounded it. Apparently, the academy had discovered that Erin's true calling was portal magic. She was already enrolled in the advanced courses, and she was often told by her teachers that none had seen her like. According to Erin, there were very few who possessed this talent, though her abilities with other schools of magic were not so accomplished. However, her instructors told her that with time she should achieve passing proficiency in all of the arcane arts.
The execution date for the orc leaders had been set for next, moon dark. Perhaps even the most benevolent Elune did not wish to smile down on those thus doomed, Sasha mused. The executions had been slated for shortly after sunset. Sasha really didn't wish to attend, even if most of the city would turn out to observe their enemies' final moments. She wrestled with going for many days leading up to the event, however, at the last moment she had attended, she simply had to know if her beloved would meet his demise at the executioner's blade.
She hadn't remained long. She would not stay to sight blood running across the flagstones. Only long enough to be assured that Gorthan was not among them, and he was not, of that she was secretly glad. He would then be imprisoned in the stockades, and eventually at the King's discretion shipped off to some awful internment camp. A place devoid of all-purpose and hope, at least that is what she had read in her studies. She hoped against hope, that, that was not true.
She had to see him, she must give Gorthan hope. How to do this though left her mind in great turmoil. It was difficult to eat, sleep, or even think of anything else. On the days when Graham would visit, and they would stroll hand in hand in the park, her mind was only on her love imprisoned so close, yet so far from her.
Her father had noticed her distraction, and her fractiousness in recent days. His senses were very finely attuned after all. One dark autumn evening, when the wind was whipping the last of the leaves from the trees with gusto, and rattling the window panes, he appeared around the corner of her bedroom doorway. Frostfyre was blocking his entry, she had made it a firm habit to lie in the doorway inspecting anyone thoroughly who wished to cross into her mistress's threshold.
Begrudgingly, with much toe pushing, Frostfyre relinquished her place, and Devin sat on the bed beside his daughter.
Sasha smiled up at her Papa, she was in the process of combing her chocolate brown hair with the orcish bone comb, dreaming of her love, and places far away. Reliving that happy and heady time. Her father often visited her just as he was doing this moment. He was always welcome in her world.
"What's up, Papa?" Sasha did her best to sound cheerful. Devin cleared his throat. Sasha could tell he was about to make some kind of announcement.
"Well my lass, I'm going on deployment shortly, only as far as Redridge this time and not for very long. But I really came to ask you what's wrong, you just haven't been yourself of late."
Sasha looked longingly at the bone comb, rubbing her fingers over the interlocking tribal design. Where she knew his fingers would have rested as if by touching where he had, he could return to her. There was silence for a time, only interspersed with the rattle of the window panes and the scraping, lashing, branches outside.
"It's almost winter Papa."
Devin Wrynn nodded in affirmation, his expression bleak. Winter promised to be hard this year, on the heels of a recent war, and crop failures.
Sasha turned to look into her Father's kindly face, knowing she was deeply loved. She knew she had to tell him the whole truth, what was in her heart. Even if he didn't wish to hear it. She hated the barrier that it had created between them.
"I know you don't really understand Father...and you say orcs and humans are sworn enemies, but...I want you to know he wasn't like that to me Papa. He was good, gentle, and kind. He protected me. He's the reason I sit here today. It wasn't like people say it was, not at all..."
Devin was a wise man, he knew his dearest daughter had been through much in recent months and he was never one to press. So he simply nodded, and let her talk. It was good for her to unburden.
"I cared for him Father, deeply. I chose to give myself to him, in gratefulness, not out of fear. There must be a way for him to be freed, pardoned, or for me to at least see him before they take him away."
Devin made a troubled sound and covered it with a cough. He hated to admit that his daughter was no longer a child, and she had ideas of her own.
Sasha set the comb down on her coverlet and turned to look at him. She knew he was displeased.
"It cannot be baby, girl." He was shaking his head, and he looked very troubled. "The orcs show us no quarter, and though I never wish to limit you, my dear girl, I must in this. You cannot see him, and I cannot arrange it."
"But Father!"
"No Sasha, and that is final."
A difficult silence once again descended on the room, the candle in its holder almost guttered and went out, the tiniest sliver of a flame held on to life, and it flickered back to brightness again. Devin rose from his place, putting his hand on the crown of his daughter's head.
"I'm sorry my girl, but it can never be. You would be best to put it out of your mind."
Sasha could not bring herself to look up at him, her teary eyes fixated on her hands, holding the bone comb before her. She would not, could not, file him away to just a memory. She would see justice done.
*****
Late fall was dark and dreary, promising a hard winter. Sasha walked when she could even in the chill weather, she found the activity and the exercise helped clear her head. Gorthan though was never far from her mind. She knew that the Stockades had recently been emptied of the orc prisoners. She wondered where he was now, and how he fared? He was strong, she knew that, but he was a proud creature of the wild, one not made to endure four walls, to be stripped of his vibrant life. She and Frostfyre would find him if it was the last thing they did. Yet she had no idea how she would even begin.
She ran through the deep leaves that carpeted the park, Frostfyre by her side. Running hard helped her rein in her anger and her helplessness.
'Go ahead and sit,' Sasha commanded, wordless entering the mind-meld state.
Frostfyre cavorted through the leaves, came to a sudden halt about twenty feet distant, turned about, and sat to face her approaching mistress.
Sasha smiled and felt great joy at her achievement.
'Good girl, now lay down.'
The white worg stretched her legs before her and lay in the leaves still as stone, eyes never leaving Sasha, awaiting the next non-verbal cue.
'Good girl, now come to me!'
Frostfyre bounded from her position to sit before her mistress.
"I really wish you didn't have to wear that muzzle, but it would not do for you to be seen."
Sasha got down on her knees and hugged her shaggy friend. She could feel the contentment and love emanating from the creature's mind. She had every confidence her mind meld was complete, though she wondered, how far would such a bond extend, and whether it could even be used to communicate ever more complex instructions? Perhaps one day she would see.
*****
Sasha never told anyone of her ability to communicate with her worg. She had gone from feeling so carefree and loving about all of her family to being closely guarded. She didn't enjoy the situation, but it was what she had been left with. To speak her mind, she had learned, only made everyone uncomfortable.
With the approaching bad weather and the feast of Winterveil only a few days away, Sasha was often indoors more than she liked to be. Aunt Evelyn, and Uncle Benjamin, were making preparations for the festival. Her Aunt loved to decorate and bake, and her Uncle, well he was making his famous ham. Her Father was preparing for his deployment to Redridge, he would leave soon after the holiday, and Sasha found she was dreading the prospect of winter without him.
Sasha usually loved this holiday, however, this year her heart was not in it. She wandered the markets browsing for gifts for her friends and family, and she would as she shopped constantly overhear the cruel words whispered. Perfect strangers would talk about how terrible her captivity must have been, and how they felt sorry for her, and then go on to mention that no one wants to marry a woman sullied by orcs, and it was fortunate she didn't have a half-breed in her belly. The gossip was terrible to hear.
When she was accompanied by her Father he would look at her with much sadness, and they would turn for home. Sasha was becoming privately incensed that she was unable to persuade anyone to understand that she had been willing. They all thought she was ill and made mentally unstable by her captivity. To begin with, she felt hurt, but after a while, she realized they would never comprehend. She would just have to continue on and develop a thicker skin.
