Chapter Text
The strange thing about my life, as I look back at it, is that it was quite boring. I grew up in Lordaeron, studied alchemy, and largely kept to myself. I had quite the routine going day in and day out.
Things didn't get interesting for me until I died. For this reason, I can't truly hate The Scourge. Not that I think of them particularly often these days. After Arthas died, it was hard to stay worked up about them.
I find myself reflecting on these things as I sit near the top of Dazar'Alor, looking down the pyramid's staircase to the glittering ocean. Strange where fate takes you, isn't it?
"Are you alright, Meredith?" Falla takes a seat next to me. I find Falla's continued presence in my life to be the strangest part, to be honest. Then again, I suppose Falla was always an odd one. What business does a druid have associating with someone like-
"Meredith?"
"Hrm?" Oh, right, I suppose I should answer her.
"Is something on your mind?"
"I was just thinking about how we met." The Royal Apothecary society had sent me to The Barrens to study the potential effects of the local flora. The scope of that particular assignment snowballed rather quickly. I'd sought out Falla for help with… something I found in the Wailing Caverns. I don't remember what it even was.
"Ah, I remember that." She smiles at me. "I appreciated your help with my reagent gathering."
"Oh yes. Vitally important reagents."
Falla lived in a little hut on top of a mountain that overlooked The Crossroads and the Wailing Caverns. I remember trudging my way up there in that blasted heat. To me, she was just some strange tree-hugging cow. To her, however, I was an exotic undead transsexual.
It was easy to be an undead transsexual. All you had to do was scavenge some bits and bobs nobody else was using, and it was really easy to explain away a genital discrepancy with "well my original legs got ruined and these are the ones that were available". Nobody ever questioned it. Besides, undeath is, in essence, a rebirth. Plenty of us changed our names simply because we felt no longer connected to who we were in life. Sometimes we changed them because we forgot. And really, who's going to press you on the difference?
Well, Falla questioned me on it. Nosey, that cow. Not that she didn't believe me, she'd just never spoken at length with a Forsaken before. Her fellow druids held us in some disdain, but Falla was ever the free spirit. She had a lot of questions. I took them as mere curiosity at the time, only realizing in hindsight that she'd been flirting with me. I confess that when she asked to look at my body, I thought it mere morbid curiosity.
It was when she asked for a sample of my "seed" that I had my suspicions. Claimed she wanted to study its potential as a reagent for her magic.
"You know, your collection process was particularly sloppy." I grin at her. She grins at me. "Your sample was contaminated with saliva, as I recall."
"Funny, I don't remember you complaining about my 'sample collection' at the time." Falla winks at me.
I expected it'd just be a fling. She'd have her fun and then toss me aside, her curiosity sated. To my surprise, however, she insisted that I come back. I suppose I was handy to have around, being both an apothecary and a mage. The Royal Apothecary Society's mages favored the arcane arts, but I preferred the powers of frost and ice. They're much more practical for the lone mage, since the chill of frost slows down oncoming attackers.
Falla made for a particularly convenient traveling companion. She wanted to see the world, experience the flora and fauna, take in the natural beauty of Azeroth, and I wanted to take samples for potential alchemical ingredients. Our arrangement was mutually beneficial. Plus, she can cast healing spells. Ones that don't channel The Light, either.
I suppose the real mystery to me is why she continued to stick around me. I was never shy about my work with the Royal Apothecary Society, and our work to create a new plague. I think she justified it to herself early on with one of our own lines, that we needed a way to reproduce and replenish our ranks. I knew, though, that one day my work would come between her and I. That I would be forced to choose between my goal to create a new plague in service to my Dark Lady and the tree-hugging cow who provided me with healing and the occasional sexual misadventure.
I just never quite imagined I'd choose her over my work.
No, I don't think that's true. Not entirely. I did not sabotage my unlife's work because a pretty tauren bat her eyelashes at me. I think, really, I chose Azeroth. Lady Sylvanas is not the woman I pledged myself to anymore, and I cannot, in good conscious, aid and abet her designs for this world. Although, perhaps, I needed Falla to help me realize what humanity was left in my maggot-riddled heart.
Oh well. The others in the Royal Apothecary Society have no idea of my betrayal. I still wear their robes and meet with them on occasion. Not often. Conveniently, I serve the war effort better adventuring around the continent than working in a lab, so my duties keep me from the others.
"You know, I think perhaps I should take your name." Falla suggests. I snort.
"I hardly think it would suit you."
"I don't know about that. 'Falla Rotbloom' has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"
"I cannot picture you as 'Mrs. Rotbloom'. You can't be a druid with the last name 'Rotbloom'." I don't think a tauren should be named that in general, really.
"I can be a druid with whatever name I want!"
"I think you're going to get a lot of confused looks, dear."
"So what? Let them be confused."
I'm not sure if she's serious. It's hard to tell with her, sometimes. She just might do it.
You know, the primary reason I never quite saw Falla and I as a long-term thing is that she never seemed particularly into the concept of monogamy. I guess I'm not, either, but I thought I was. Or at least, I assumed that's what a "real" relationship would consist of. Something clean with easily identifiable boundaries.
There's another couple we travel with, and we're either in some kind of four-person relationship, or they're a couple we swing with. I have no idea, although personally I only really consider Falla my romantic partner. The other two are… well, they're good friends.
Falla and I head down Dazar'alor towards the docks, and we find them seated sharing a bottle of some local liquor. A few local children stand nearby to stare at them, or one of them, at least.
I don't know what Dreadhorn was called by in life, but that's the name he was given when he was risen for the Scourge. Strange how two of my closest friends are tauren, but Dreadhorn's hardly the peace-and-nature type. He acts more like one of my fellow Forsaken than other tauren I've met. It's not much of a mystery why he and I get along so well. I invited him to come along with us when the Ebon Blade made it to Orgrimmar, in part because I sympathized with his plight. An outsider, a monster, a former agent of The Scourge trying to prove their new loyalties.
The other reason I wanted him around is that I wanted someone large and imposing to draw enemy attention while I sling my spells. He does a very good job of it. A frighteningly good job.
And then there's his lady love, a woman who found herself in a similar position many years later. Sylphyn, a demon hunter formerly in the employ of the Illidari. Dreadhorn and I invited her along as well, since we'd both been outcasts at one point or another. That, and she's quite attractive. Dreadhorn and I have similar taste in women.
Did you know demon hunters don't wear shoes? When they channel their demon forms, their bodies grow, and while most items of clothing can either more easily stretch or be tailored to accomodate the change, shoes do not. I'm not entirely clear if their presence would result in injury to the wearer, or if they'd just ruin a perfectly good pair of shoes, but either way, they tend to prefer simple footwraps or to go without shoes at all.
Which… well, I find it particularly agreeable. What can I say, I have a weakness for elf feet. Which makes it even more strange that my darling-love-of-my-unlife has hooves. Truly a strange twist of fate.
"What kept you?" Dreadhorn only offers a glance as he takes a gulp of his drink.
"Remniscing." I answer as I take a seat.
"Is that what you two are calling it now?" He chuckles at his own dumb joke.
"Watch yourself." Sylphyn says, before nodding to indicate the nearby kids.
"I'm behaving!"
"I know, I know." Sylphyn turns to me, looking at me with those glowing green eyes behind her blindfold. You'd be surprised how quickly you adjust to that. "So, we got some… interesting news from Nathanos."
"Good news, I hope!" Ever the optimist, Falla.
"Not bad news. The Naga are planning an incursion in Zuldazar, on the Eastern shore."
"That sounds pretty bad…" Falla sounds dismayed.
"Yes," I immediately see where Sylph is going with this, "but if we go fight the naga, that keeps us away from the front lines against the Alliance."
"Nathanos thinks the Zandalari should handle it themselves." Dreadhorn says with a sneer. "What dumbass leaves their allies hanging like that?"
"We convinced him that we should provide support for our Zandalari allies." Sylphyn adds. "I can't imagine the naga will give us much trouble, and it'll further ingratiate us to Talanji."
"I imagine he wasn't happy." I smile as I imagine Nathanos throwing one of his little temper tantrums.
"He's never happy." Dreadhorn snorts, then grins. "Except whenever he says 'Sylvanas will be pleased'. You think that means he's gonna get his dick sucked that night?"
"Dread!" Sylphyn gives him a harsh jab.
"Oh, c'mon, those kids can't hear us!"
"I suspect it does." Sylphyn rolls her eyes at me. Impressive how the gesture is still recognizable with her blindfold.
"Meredith, don't encourage him." Falla pokes my shoulder.
"Alright, alright." I look over, and the local children are indeed still staring at us. I wave at them, and one of them waves back. "So," I say as I turn back, "where are we setting up camp?"
We make it to the northeastern shore, near Zebi'hara, while the sun is already setting. The shadows from the trees are long, and the ocean looks dark. We set up camp under the shade of some trees, with a view towards the water. By the time we're all set up, it's completely dark, although this is less of an issue for some of us.
Dinner consists of roast meat and some conjured bread. Mage bread gets the job done, but is not particularly good. Not particularly anything, really. It's bland, with a texture I would describe as "slightly too moist". Toasting it improves it, but only by so much.
Afterwards, I sit in the darkness with Falla, staring out at the ocean. The moon is somewhere overhead, but the stars are incredibly bright. It's hard to tell where the sky ends and the sea begins.
"It's beautiful, don't you think?" Falla says softly.
"I suppose it's rather impressive." I admit.
"Reminds me of Stranglethorn." The way Falla says it sends a shiver through my spine.
"Yes… Stranglethorn…" Stranglethorn Vale is one of our fondest traveling spots. We have a few local connections amongst the trolls there.
"We should go back when we have the chance." She says.
"Oh, we really must."
"I imagine our friends will be thrilled to help us celebrate our marriage. Don't you?"
"Mmm. Yes. They were always a supportive bunch." A group of trolls once caught Falla and I in the act in the jungle. They were quite… open-minded about the whole thing. Didn't find me too unusual.
"I was thinking… perhaps we ought to tour some of our old favorite spots?" Falla speaks in a low, sultry voice. "I'd love to mate with you on top of a mesa in Thousand Needles again."
"That did get you rather excited." A beautiful place, Thousand Needles. Always makes me a little melancholy to think on it, though. "A shame about the Cataclysm."
"Nature is ever in flux, Mere-"
We're interrupted by some loud moans and screams coming from our traveling companions inside their tent. Well, mostly the one elf.
"Showoffs." I mutter. Not that I particularly mind. Dreadhorn can really make a woman scream. Including my dear Falla… and myself.
"Mmm. We ought to give them a little competition."
"I suppose we at least ought to try." I feel a little inadequate next to Dreadhorn in terms of raw power and strength, but I have to admit that he and Sylphyn do make quite the appealing racket.
Falla lays on the ground, her stomach on the grass. Taking in the view keeps her in the mood, somehow. I suppose I see it. I slink out of my robes and climb on top of her.
My body looks much nicer these days. Thank goodness for restoration and transmogrification. My legs look nice, at least. I don't think I can have my proclivities while also having exposed toe bones. I keep some of my damage above the waist, though. It adds character, I think.
I'm already hard. I shimmy a little to get into position, then gently slide into Falla. I can tell she's excited; she's soaking wet, and I can feel the soft heat enveloping me as my shaft gets further into her. I take a few strokes to get a feel for things, then quickly start to fuck her hard. I feel like such a small thing, mounting her like this.
"Oh, Meredith!" Falla's hard to hear over Sylphyn's moans. "You mate like a cute little rabbit." Not the first time she's told me that. I think it's a compliment.
"Oh, fuck!" Ah, it seems Sylphyn and Dreadhorn have reached their climax. I can hear him grunting from all the way over here. I suppose it isn't that far. He must be emptying those fat balls inside of her.
"You want me to moo for you, Meredith?" I try to concentrate and not groan.
"Do not moo when I'm inside you." Clearly I'm not fucking her hard enough.
I pick up the pace, and we let the darkness quietly envelope us. If I could still sweat, I imagine it would cool against the night air. Falla tries to keep quiet, a habit she picked up after those trolls caught us. I cling to her back as I continue to rut with her, panting with exertion.
We wordlessly approach a mutual climax. I hilt into her with a desperate, animalistic need, and for a moment I feel alive again. A powerful urge to breed. My seed flows into her, which elicits a low moan from her.
"You're so cute when you cum, Meredith."
"Thank you." I say as I collapse on top of her. Exhausted, I quickly drift off to sleep.