Dzie’wanna’s eyes slid open as the first rays of the sun skimmed over the waves and beach, hitting the tend and sneaking through the crack between ground and cloth on the floor. She looked at Quetz’le, still sleeping, and felt a insanely wide grin stretch and pull at her face until she was smiling like a fool. For a moment, she let herself enjoy it before thoughts came full circle and informed her that more important things should be thought of. For one, she would have to show some deference to the elders, though that wasn’t a pleasant thought. As Quetz’le had said, she had left because she would have been more miserable if she had stayed those six years ago. She could still remember, walking over the broken plates of Durotat, the moon still out and her husband just buried. It had felt like freedom that night, no longer having to worry about what was the womanly thing to do or what was best for the tribe.
Of course, there had been hard times. Things did not get better until three years later when fighting alongside the Tauren at Camp Turajo in the Barrens. There she had met her good friends, common spirits, who she had fought with for the next three years. It was as if things were coming all around, a full circle that was whole and filling in the blanks. Leaving, finding bits of herself, and coming back to find more of herself.
Her fingers brushed against the small doll-like totem, still around Quetz’le’s neck on the old string. It had been a gift from her after her father had told her her time of training was at a end. The fact that Quetz’le kept it all this time… She gave a small sigh as her three fingers spread across the chest of Quetz’le, her palm pressed against where his heart was. She had been selfish, of course. But so had he back then.
Hearing sounds of drums, Dzie’wanna sat up and got dressed, quickly winding the bandages around her chest and arms before sliding on her leather pants and ankle guards. Today wasn’t yet ready for full battle gear, and she preferred to not wear the heavy mail when it wasn’t required. It felt suffocating, odd to wear such solid and cumbersome gear.
She rolled her neck and shoulders, then pulled aside the flaps of the tent to head out. Her foot, about to take a step forward, stopped in mid air and slowly put itself back beside her other one. Standing in front of the tent with his arms crossed and a viscious look in his eyes was Tsistu. A moment of silence passed as they looked at each other, her taking in the changes that had happened over the last six years, and him just glaring at her.
“So, first thing you do is sleep with my teacher when you’re back, huh? Not even visit dad’s grave, or me?” He spat out, ending the silence as he jutted out his tusks and ground his teeth. Dzie’wanna stilled, her shoulders rising and her face falling into her normal passively stern expression. Before she could speak, she heard a groan and a couple mumbles from behind her.
“Ah, Tsistu. How are you this morning?”
Dzie’wanna’s shoulder twitched, trying to reing in either laughter or the need to punch Quetz’le. Tsistu turned his glare to Quetz’le.
“Is that all you have to say? After sleeping with my mother and not even informing me that she was here? Oh, sure, let’s ignore the son that she abandoned years ago! It’s a lot easier that way, isn’t it?”
Quetz’le looked at Dzie’wanna, raising an eyebrow. “You didn’t go to see your son first?”
“I did not mean to stay here that long.” She shifted her weight from her right to left foot, changing her posture. He moaned as he rubbed his temples, then he looked up at Tsistu.
“Come back in a couple minutes. I will be dressed at that point and be better to talk. And honestly my little frog, you need to think stuff through a little more.”
Tsistu turned his back and sat down in front of the door flap as Dzie’wanna gave a nod towards Quetz’le. She then pulled her mouth into a strange pout and pucker, and a smooth whistle wove through the air causing both Tsistu’s and Quetz’le’s ears to twitch. Dzie’wanna stepped around Tsistu and into the sun, stretched her arms out, and the next moment a barreling thousand pound beast of fur came barreling at her. The two men stared as the white and blue tiger and Dzie’wanna wrestled on the ground, kicking up some dust and scraping claws into the ground. Quetz’le just muttered, shook his head, and closed the door flap to get dressed.
After a couple minutes the door had opened again and they all were sitting in a circle, the teenager looking grumpy, Quetz’le torn between amusement and annoyance, and Dzie’wanna sitting with the large cat stretched out behind her supporting her back, curled up around her and purring in pure contented joy while both her and it were covered in dust and scrapes.
“Echo needed her morning exercise.” Dzie’wanna said, by way of explanation. “She gets rather anxious when cooped up in one place, and I cannot let her go running around here.” The danger of the Echo Isles was implied.
“Yes yes, that’s fine. I can see you have become a fine hunter. Far beyond old Quetz’le.” He placed a hand over his chest, his expression a perfect mockery of the pain of old age.
Dzie’wanna just blinked. “Of course.”
Tsistu raised his eyebrow in slow motion as an awkward silence landed, Dzie’wanna being oblivious. Then, Quetz’le gave a snort and a loud bark of laughter. “Ah, how I missed your straight forward talk!”
“Great, wonderful. Look, can we focus here?” The white haired youth grit out, crossing his arms and now glowering at everyone in the room, including the cat. Echo just gave him a bored look and yawned at him, her rows of teeth flashing in the room. Tsistu focused his glare at the other two occupants of the room. Quetz’le scratched the back of his head as Dzie’wanna shifted again, agitated, before she looked up at Quetz’le in sudden realization.
“Did you not tell him you are his father?”
Tsistu facepalmed as Quetz’le continued his gesture. Before he could speak, Tsistu drawled out his own response. “Like I couldn’t put two and two together. I realized that when I was ten. I mean, I suspected since I was five, but the point stands that I am not a mind slave. I can think.”
Dzie’wanna gave a nod, looking relieved along with Quetz’le. He shrugged and smiled at Dzie’wanna. “I never told him, but I did treat him like a son. I-”
“You used the excuse that my father died to treat me like I was your son. I know, can we move on to what my lovely mother did?” The vitriol was spat out with such a sarcastic flare, that the bottom’s of the tent almost curled in on itself from it. The two adults stared at him with wide eyes. Dzie’wanna sighed and gave Quetz’le a look, then he stood up and ducked out of the tent. The mother and son sat across from each other.
“Tsistu.” Her eyes met his evenly, searching in the corner’s and nooks and crannies of them before nodding. She shifted, leaning over to pull her pack to her, then ruffled through it. She pulled out a smooth dagger, curved and dulled so that the light didn’t glint off of it. She held it out to him.
“I heard you were training in combat and stealth.”
He stared at the blade, his mouth falling open before he reached out, his hand caressing the blade and brushing against his mother’s palm before wrapping his fingers around the handle. He held it close to himself, looking at the design in awe before looking up at her. “How-?”
“I have kept track of things back here. After three years, my friend’s insisted that I should try and reconnect with my home. I mostly ignored their advice, but I did feel the need to check on you and Quetz’le.” She watched him run a thick calloused finger along the blade, testing the edge and examining the detail of a rabbit in full run stretched out across one side, a snake on the other. “I found it among the ruins of the Witherbark tribe, within the Hinterlands.”
“Thank you.” He said, awkwardly trying to recover from the unexpected gift. He hadn’t expected anything. After all, how many times had his aunt talked about his mother as one who had no heart, who didn’t care? All he had was vague memories of stiff hugs, and a clear memory of her framed by the ocean looking over the horizon with such a look of longing that as a child he had started crying, afraid that the loa of the sea was calling his mother away from him like in the legends.
They sat in silence, peacefully accepting the other’s presence. He usually didn’t like to talk, though he did so with others (a side result was that as he had to talk, he often talked in a bad mood with a good deal of sarcasm involved). Dzie’wanna stood after a few moments, Echo lumbering up on her paws as well, and she pulled out her own dagger. “Do you wish to train?”
_________________
Isondo was not happy. Her mistress had not come back, she was being hit on by perverted teenagers and adults alike, and the sea salt in the air had made her hair frizz out in a purple matt down her back. Sassaba was bouncing around, wanting to look for their lady (and oh loa, she was calling the jungle whelp lady! In her mind! She did not want to deal with the maybe a little bit of fondness she might have for the troll woman who rescued her from, no no, who stole her from Northrend. Yes, she had already been captured and was about to be sold, but she had a plan to escape! Maybe. Oh, who was she fooling? Thank goodness she had not met any Drakkari over here yet, she wouldn’t be able to handle the shame).
As yet another troll came up with a lecherous look on his… wait, no, it was a her this time… on her face, Isondo groaned and marched up to one of the commanders in charge of handing out orders. “I will gather frogs, right now! Anything! Please just give me something!”
The troll blinked before grinning and handing her an assignment. Isondo barely glanced at just where she had to go before darting off in the direction needed.
——————————-
*Author’s Talk*
Short one today, will be a looong one next time I post! :D
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Saturday, September 11, 2010
Echo Isles: Regaining Home
Isondo walked through the crowds of the runt trolls, these jungle idiots, as the excited and nervous buzz of chatter and preparation filled the air. Her nose wrinkled as she looked around at the huts, the ramshackle buildings that seemed like they couldn't hold against a minor storm, much less a seige. She grit her teeth, thinking of the mighty stone halls of the Drakkari empire, of the elaborate water system, of everything that this backwoods shore town was NOT.
Dzie'wanna dragged her here, of course. When news came about the retaking of the Isles, the call to arms caused her eyes to sharpen and it took less than a day for everything to be packed and them to be on their way to Sen'jin. Now she was off talking strategy with a old commander while Sassaba chased frogs, and Isondo wandering around and sulking.
She was about to start listing all the ways this Darkspear town was inferior (then move on to how the Darkspear themselves were inferior) but was interrupted as a young troll swaggered in front of her, a wide grin being made almost ridiculous by his up-curving tusks, giving his smile an illusion of greater size.
"May I help you?" Her nose rose in the air as she eyed him, wanting nothing more than to smack this little bug out of the way.
"Yes lady, hope you don't mind but may I ask; you were the one to come in with Dzie'wanna, right?" His grin widened and became mischievous as he leaned forward, his eyes taking a leisurely stroll up and down her person.
She was about to ask how one so young could be so perverted, when she realized that of course the Darkspear were smaller already, and skinny, so the runt was probably already a teenager. Wonderful. "Yes, she is my Mistress." She bit out. She knew she couldn't fudge the words around here, as she had to show that there was a very good reason not to mess with her.
"Great! She's my Aunt, you know. I just wanted to make sure you see." His grin and light tone sounded perfectly pleasant, but something about him made her take notice at the young one. She sized him up, his orange hair pulled back in a large thick braid while his ears seemed a little longer then normal, all giving him a rather knobbly look that reminded her of the child giraffes in Sholazar Basin. He could probably be convinced to give her useful information.
"So, you know her well then?" Her question was light, but her thoughts turning to think of all the use she could have of such info. The runt's grin turned into a smirk, leaving her feeling like she had just taken the bait.
"Of course."
"You would be willing to tell me about her, then?" Her tone became hard as she leveled a glare at him.
"Oh, definitely. For a price."
For awhile she just glared at him while his eyes laughed at her, and finally she bit out, making sure each words was sharp- "And what would that price be?"
"A kiss." He said.
"A kiss." She deadpanned.
After a bit of a stare-down, she crossed her arms and gestured towards the little place between two palm trees and a small hut. "Very well. You tell me first, and I will give you a kiss."
He walked over in smug confidence, and shortly after sitting down Isondo started her first question. "So, tell me about all her family and her relationship with them." No one had ever told Isondo that she was subtle.
------
A young troll teen sat on the roof of the large market hut, hidden between the branches of a tree and the cleft of a the straw roof. He fiddled with some malachite, a gift from some adventurer who had no need for it, and was now trying to find a way to secure it to some twisted leaves, wood, and rocks that looked vaguely like a doll. His white hair stuck up with the bangs falling in his face, and along with his pale blue fur stirred from the strong wind coming off the ocean. He sighed, his orange eyes gazing at the gems with a annoyed look.
"Tsistu, guess what I know?" A swaggering voice practically crowed out, causing him to look over his shoulder at the other teenager scrambling towards him like a cat. Tsistu was about to follow along with the question before seeing the other boy's face, a large bruise blossoming on his cheek.
"What in the name of voodoo happened to you?"
The orange haired troll just grinned, looking a little dreamy. "I got a kiss."
The other boy just stared, before slowly replying. "No, you got punched. Unless your a little dense and fell into something."
The boy just smirked and pointed at the bruise that was actually showing through his greenish-blue fuzz. "It's how Drakkari woman kiss." His chest puffed up with pride.
Tsistu just pinched the bridge of his nose between two large fingers. "Let me guess, that is what she told you."
"Ya!"
"Sin-ka-lip," Tsistu said, each syllable stretched out with condescension. "You are a idiot."
Sinkalip just huffed as he lay back on the roof. "Well, I am a idiot who knows something you don't know."
"And what is that?" Tsistu asked, finally digging the gems to the wood he had, securing it with rusted wires.
"Your mom's here."
The doll was dropped, it tumbling off the roof before landing in the dirt.
-----
"Sir." Dzie'wanna saluted to the grizzled old commander, a hunter with his eyes graying with age and blindness. The man angled his face to peer at her, before a slow smile grew on his lips.
"Ah, Dzie'wanna. How is my little frog?"
Dzie'wanna relaxed from her stiff pose, allowing her her shoulders to roll off the tension at the kind greeting. "I am well, Revered Hunter."
He huffed out laugh before waving her closer, shaking his head in good humor. "Quetz'le to you, little one. And do not lie, I can hear the weight in your voice."
Dzie'wanna inclined her head, admitting his point as her eyes shifted around the old tent. "It has been awhile."
"It has. But that is your fault, I believe. Not that I can blame ya." He motioned to a mat as he took his place on the one across from it. "Denying your mate's demand to stay would not have recommended you back to the tribe."
Dzie'wanna remained silent, her eyes on the dirt of the floor. There was tension in her shoulders again. With a sigh, the troll man stood up before walking to her side, seating himself beside her with a grumble. "You were always stubborn."
"I had to."
"You had to leave?" He asked, looking vaguely amused again. Her eyes darted up at him before going back to the floor.
"...I regret it, though."
His eyes sharpened at her before he smacked her lightly on the back of the head. "You shouldn't! Because if you took the other you would have died from misery. You know that, so don't regret. And besides, now you are back home, among your tribe, and very few would deny your place after the wars you fought, especially now while you are aiding to bring the fall of Zalazane."
She rubbed the back of her head slowly, before looking up at him. The shadows of the tent and the light coming through the cracks played across his face, old but not ancient. Her stomach twisted a bit, feeling the words get jumbled in her mouth. Finally she fumbled out. "Time has passed."
He sighed. "There you go, jumping from topic to topic again. Eh, it's why I like you I suppose. You don't jabber on like some people." He gave laugh, lightening up the atmosphere. "And yes, it has. My eyes are failing and I even have wrinkles now, of all things! Ah, I used to be more handsome then this." He bemoaned, causing Dzie'wanna's lips to quirk.
She paused for a second, her eyes looking at the scars around her arms and stomach, not having to look to know her roughly hewed face with the broken tusk. She felt a sad weight settle on her chest as she answered. "I have gone from plain to scarred and plain, while you are still as handsome as ever. A little older but-"
"Time really has passed." He said, looking at her softly as he brushed a braid over her shoulder. "There was a time you couldn't speak any compliments towards me without your throat closing up." A touch of amusement, and her eyes smiled back at him.
A companionable silence passed in the hut, their eyes speaking to one another before he sighed and lay his heavy hand on her cheek. "There is much I regret as well. I was much to worried about my own status back then, that I allowed that young fool to demand marriage from your father. I should have killed him and claimed you for myself."
She stared back at him, and then a smile grew across her face wide and bright. A question had finally been answered. "I am glad at least one loved me then."
"Dzie'wanna..."
She laid her hand over his, keeping it there. "You know as well as I do that he only married me because of my father. It was well known that more nights of his were spent in other's houses then our own. Which is why-"
He interrupted her, leaning his forehead against hers and angled his face so his tusks rested on the sides of her neck. "I should have just kidnapped you. Your father would have been so happy that such a older man like me wanted you, that he would have killed the fool himself."
Dzie'wanna sighed, feeling things click into place after a long time. Questions, fears, were settling down. She still remembered that night, the night that her mate had died after a attempt at Zalazane, slowly being killed from poison as he lay in their tent. He had demanded that she not leave, not leave to go with the horde and train. He had seen her eyeing the bow, practicing here and there when she thought no one was looking. He had been furious that night, at her silence, at her strangeness.
"He said that you did not care for me."
"He knew about us?" The surprise colored Quetz'le voice as his eyes opened to look at her.
"He guessed. He was angry that night, allowing his rage to control his words. A woman is supposed to be faithful, after all. Even when her mate isn't. It was one of the reasons I left. Not the main one, but one reason. So few loved me that I do not think I could have lived should you have been another one."
He let out a low hum as they sat there. With a chuckle, he let his other hand trail along some of the scars of her arm. "You have gotten stronger. And your way of speaking even stranger. So formal..." His tone had turned flirtatious, trying to dismiss the heavy conversation. When she looked at him, he fished out a necklace that was hanging by a rough rope. On it, was a roughly made doll of wood, stone, leaves and gems and worn from age.
Her three fingers picked it up, looking at it before looking up at him, her eyes almost pained in the amount of affection.
"I am a old man, Dzie'wanna. I do not expect much. I missed you, but I do not expect you to stay. I shall enjoy the time we have."
No words were spoken for the rest of the evening.
-----
Sassaba grumbled as she stumbled around as the sun set on the first day of preparations. Her hands were slimy from the frogs that she was gathering for spying, her feet and legs tired from trying to run in this sand, and she could feel dried salt stuck in her short hair which just made it more prickly then usual.
It sucked. This place was awful, and though the ocean was pretty that appreciation faded when she got pushed in it for the fifth time by some troll brats. And she couldn't help it if her Zandali was bad! They didn't have to make fun of her for it: At least she knew Zandali in the first place!
As she walked around, trying to find Isondo or Lady Dizzy, her eyes landed on something shiny being struck by the dying sun. She quickly trotted over, and bent down to pick it up. It was a doll, she thought happily. Rough and slightly silly looking, with shredded leaves propped up to look like hair, but a doll nonetheless. She looked around, making sure no one was looking, before hugging it to her chest. "Your name is now Zuggy, and you are my new best friend."
"Sassaba! Brat! Come on, the tent is set up a little ways out there."
Her head pulled up to look at Isondo, shocked at the cheerful voice. Isondo was preening, a gloating look solidly placed on her features.
"Comin'!"
------------
-Writer's time-
So, a couple interesting things happened here. It was supposed to be a lot more fast paced, but I think that will come in tomorrow's post. Some interesting twists are in store!
Not that interesting twists weren't here as well. Like the freakin' 'she had a lover thing'. No, that surprised me as well. It was writing itself at that point, and suddenly some things about Dzie'wanna just clicked into place. Veeerry interesting. Well, that explains why she hasn't been interested in much of anyone. /blinks
A lot of this was to set up introductions to future plots. Tsistu and Sinkalip will be two alts in Cataclysm, a rogue and a druid respectively. I have been toying with the idea about Tsistu being Dzie'wanna's son, and finally decided to go with it. Let's see where that takes us. Feel free to leave comments to let me know if I am making a terrible mistake! :D
Oh, and quick age table-
Dzie'wanna: 31
Isondo: 18
Sassaba: 12
Tsistu: 14
Sinkalip: 15
Quetz'le: 52
Yes, Quetz'le and Dzie'wanna are very far apart. But this isn't happy perfect fairytale land, and they are a tribal society (which in many cases has younger/older couples) and is in a fantasy/medieval-esque world (where 50 year old kings would marry 15 year old girls).
As for Dzie'wanna's timetable, by age:
8-14 : trained under Quetz'le with other children to learn hunting and survival skills. (my guess is that all trolls are trained for survival while young, by when they reach 'adulthood' or are married the girls then go to do 'womanly duties'.)
15 : Was mated to her husband.
17 : Had Tsistu.
25 : Joined the Horde Military/Mate Died
Dzie'wanna dragged her here, of course. When news came about the retaking of the Isles, the call to arms caused her eyes to sharpen and it took less than a day for everything to be packed and them to be on their way to Sen'jin. Now she was off talking strategy with a old commander while Sassaba chased frogs, and Isondo wandering around and sulking.
She was about to start listing all the ways this Darkspear town was inferior (then move on to how the Darkspear themselves were inferior) but was interrupted as a young troll swaggered in front of her, a wide grin being made almost ridiculous by his up-curving tusks, giving his smile an illusion of greater size.
"May I help you?" Her nose rose in the air as she eyed him, wanting nothing more than to smack this little bug out of the way.
"Yes lady, hope you don't mind but may I ask; you were the one to come in with Dzie'wanna, right?" His grin widened and became mischievous as he leaned forward, his eyes taking a leisurely stroll up and down her person.
She was about to ask how one so young could be so perverted, when she realized that of course the Darkspear were smaller already, and skinny, so the runt was probably already a teenager. Wonderful. "Yes, she is my Mistress." She bit out. She knew she couldn't fudge the words around here, as she had to show that there was a very good reason not to mess with her.
"Great! She's my Aunt, you know. I just wanted to make sure you see." His grin and light tone sounded perfectly pleasant, but something about him made her take notice at the young one. She sized him up, his orange hair pulled back in a large thick braid while his ears seemed a little longer then normal, all giving him a rather knobbly look that reminded her of the child giraffes in Sholazar Basin. He could probably be convinced to give her useful information.
"So, you know her well then?" Her question was light, but her thoughts turning to think of all the use she could have of such info. The runt's grin turned into a smirk, leaving her feeling like she had just taken the bait.
"Of course."
"You would be willing to tell me about her, then?" Her tone became hard as she leveled a glare at him.
"Oh, definitely. For a price."
For awhile she just glared at him while his eyes laughed at her, and finally she bit out, making sure each words was sharp- "And what would that price be?"
"A kiss." He said.
"A kiss." She deadpanned.
After a bit of a stare-down, she crossed her arms and gestured towards the little place between two palm trees and a small hut. "Very well. You tell me first, and I will give you a kiss."
He walked over in smug confidence, and shortly after sitting down Isondo started her first question. "So, tell me about all her family and her relationship with them." No one had ever told Isondo that she was subtle.
------
A young troll teen sat on the roof of the large market hut, hidden between the branches of a tree and the cleft of a the straw roof. He fiddled with some malachite, a gift from some adventurer who had no need for it, and was now trying to find a way to secure it to some twisted leaves, wood, and rocks that looked vaguely like a doll. His white hair stuck up with the bangs falling in his face, and along with his pale blue fur stirred from the strong wind coming off the ocean. He sighed, his orange eyes gazing at the gems with a annoyed look.
"Tsistu, guess what I know?" A swaggering voice practically crowed out, causing him to look over his shoulder at the other teenager scrambling towards him like a cat. Tsistu was about to follow along with the question before seeing the other boy's face, a large bruise blossoming on his cheek.
"What in the name of voodoo happened to you?"
The orange haired troll just grinned, looking a little dreamy. "I got a kiss."
The other boy just stared, before slowly replying. "No, you got punched. Unless your a little dense and fell into something."
The boy just smirked and pointed at the bruise that was actually showing through his greenish-blue fuzz. "It's how Drakkari woman kiss." His chest puffed up with pride.
Tsistu just pinched the bridge of his nose between two large fingers. "Let me guess, that is what she told you."
"Ya!"
"Sin-ka-lip," Tsistu said, each syllable stretched out with condescension. "You are a idiot."
Sinkalip just huffed as he lay back on the roof. "Well, I am a idiot who knows something you don't know."
"And what is that?" Tsistu asked, finally digging the gems to the wood he had, securing it with rusted wires.
"Your mom's here."
The doll was dropped, it tumbling off the roof before landing in the dirt.
-----
"Sir." Dzie'wanna saluted to the grizzled old commander, a hunter with his eyes graying with age and blindness. The man angled his face to peer at her, before a slow smile grew on his lips.
"Ah, Dzie'wanna. How is my little frog?"
Dzie'wanna relaxed from her stiff pose, allowing her her shoulders to roll off the tension at the kind greeting. "I am well, Revered Hunter."
He huffed out laugh before waving her closer, shaking his head in good humor. "Quetz'le to you, little one. And do not lie, I can hear the weight in your voice."
Dzie'wanna inclined her head, admitting his point as her eyes shifted around the old tent. "It has been awhile."
"It has. But that is your fault, I believe. Not that I can blame ya." He motioned to a mat as he took his place on the one across from it. "Denying your mate's demand to stay would not have recommended you back to the tribe."
Dzie'wanna remained silent, her eyes on the dirt of the floor. There was tension in her shoulders again. With a sigh, the troll man stood up before walking to her side, seating himself beside her with a grumble. "You were always stubborn."
"I had to."
"You had to leave?" He asked, looking vaguely amused again. Her eyes darted up at him before going back to the floor.
"...I regret it, though."
His eyes sharpened at her before he smacked her lightly on the back of the head. "You shouldn't! Because if you took the other you would have died from misery. You know that, so don't regret. And besides, now you are back home, among your tribe, and very few would deny your place after the wars you fought, especially now while you are aiding to bring the fall of Zalazane."
She rubbed the back of her head slowly, before looking up at him. The shadows of the tent and the light coming through the cracks played across his face, old but not ancient. Her stomach twisted a bit, feeling the words get jumbled in her mouth. Finally she fumbled out. "Time has passed."
He sighed. "There you go, jumping from topic to topic again. Eh, it's why I like you I suppose. You don't jabber on like some people." He gave laugh, lightening up the atmosphere. "And yes, it has. My eyes are failing and I even have wrinkles now, of all things! Ah, I used to be more handsome then this." He bemoaned, causing Dzie'wanna's lips to quirk.
She paused for a second, her eyes looking at the scars around her arms and stomach, not having to look to know her roughly hewed face with the broken tusk. She felt a sad weight settle on her chest as she answered. "I have gone from plain to scarred and plain, while you are still as handsome as ever. A little older but-"
"Time really has passed." He said, looking at her softly as he brushed a braid over her shoulder. "There was a time you couldn't speak any compliments towards me without your throat closing up." A touch of amusement, and her eyes smiled back at him.
A companionable silence passed in the hut, their eyes speaking to one another before he sighed and lay his heavy hand on her cheek. "There is much I regret as well. I was much to worried about my own status back then, that I allowed that young fool to demand marriage from your father. I should have killed him and claimed you for myself."
She stared back at him, and then a smile grew across her face wide and bright. A question had finally been answered. "I am glad at least one loved me then."
"Dzie'wanna..."
She laid her hand over his, keeping it there. "You know as well as I do that he only married me because of my father. It was well known that more nights of his were spent in other's houses then our own. Which is why-"
He interrupted her, leaning his forehead against hers and angled his face so his tusks rested on the sides of her neck. "I should have just kidnapped you. Your father would have been so happy that such a older man like me wanted you, that he would have killed the fool himself."
Dzie'wanna sighed, feeling things click into place after a long time. Questions, fears, were settling down. She still remembered that night, the night that her mate had died after a attempt at Zalazane, slowly being killed from poison as he lay in their tent. He had demanded that she not leave, not leave to go with the horde and train. He had seen her eyeing the bow, practicing here and there when she thought no one was looking. He had been furious that night, at her silence, at her strangeness.
"He said that you did not care for me."
"He knew about us?" The surprise colored Quetz'le voice as his eyes opened to look at her.
"He guessed. He was angry that night, allowing his rage to control his words. A woman is supposed to be faithful, after all. Even when her mate isn't. It was one of the reasons I left. Not the main one, but one reason. So few loved me that I do not think I could have lived should you have been another one."
He let out a low hum as they sat there. With a chuckle, he let his other hand trail along some of the scars of her arm. "You have gotten stronger. And your way of speaking even stranger. So formal..." His tone had turned flirtatious, trying to dismiss the heavy conversation. When she looked at him, he fished out a necklace that was hanging by a rough rope. On it, was a roughly made doll of wood, stone, leaves and gems and worn from age.
Her three fingers picked it up, looking at it before looking up at him, her eyes almost pained in the amount of affection.
"I am a old man, Dzie'wanna. I do not expect much. I missed you, but I do not expect you to stay. I shall enjoy the time we have."
No words were spoken for the rest of the evening.
-----
Sassaba grumbled as she stumbled around as the sun set on the first day of preparations. Her hands were slimy from the frogs that she was gathering for spying, her feet and legs tired from trying to run in this sand, and she could feel dried salt stuck in her short hair which just made it more prickly then usual.
It sucked. This place was awful, and though the ocean was pretty that appreciation faded when she got pushed in it for the fifth time by some troll brats. And she couldn't help it if her Zandali was bad! They didn't have to make fun of her for it: At least she knew Zandali in the first place!
As she walked around, trying to find Isondo or Lady Dizzy, her eyes landed on something shiny being struck by the dying sun. She quickly trotted over, and bent down to pick it up. It was a doll, she thought happily. Rough and slightly silly looking, with shredded leaves propped up to look like hair, but a doll nonetheless. She looked around, making sure no one was looking, before hugging it to her chest. "Your name is now Zuggy, and you are my new best friend."
"Sassaba! Brat! Come on, the tent is set up a little ways out there."
Her head pulled up to look at Isondo, shocked at the cheerful voice. Isondo was preening, a gloating look solidly placed on her features.
"Comin'!"
------------
-Writer's time-
So, a couple interesting things happened here. It was supposed to be a lot more fast paced, but I think that will come in tomorrow's post. Some interesting twists are in store!
Not that interesting twists weren't here as well. Like the freakin' 'she had a lover thing'. No, that surprised me as well. It was writing itself at that point, and suddenly some things about Dzie'wanna just clicked into place. Veeerry interesting. Well, that explains why she hasn't been interested in much of anyone. /blinks
A lot of this was to set up introductions to future plots. Tsistu and Sinkalip will be two alts in Cataclysm, a rogue and a druid respectively. I have been toying with the idea about Tsistu being Dzie'wanna's son, and finally decided to go with it. Let's see where that takes us. Feel free to leave comments to let me know if I am making a terrible mistake! :D
Oh, and quick age table-
Dzie'wanna: 31
Isondo: 18
Sassaba: 12
Tsistu: 14
Sinkalip: 15
Quetz'le: 52
Yes, Quetz'le and Dzie'wanna are very far apart. But this isn't happy perfect fairytale land, and they are a tribal society (which in many cases has younger/older couples) and is in a fantasy/medieval-esque world (where 50 year old kings would marry 15 year old girls).
As for Dzie'wanna's timetable, by age:
8-14 : trained under Quetz'le with other children to learn hunting and survival skills. (my guess is that all trolls are trained for survival while young, by when they reach 'adulthood' or are married the girls then go to do 'womanly duties'.)
15 : Was mated to her husband.
17 : Had Tsistu.
25 : Joined the Horde Military/Mate Died
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