Work Text:
The stallion backed away from the mare, rejection causing him to snort in confusion. It was nothing new, he was the latest in a line of studs The Demon had attacked. He hadn't done anything wrong, of course – he just wasn't to the mare's taste. Whatever that was.
She was a stunning beast; as huge in the chest as many stallions, long legged, graceful and powerful, and fast. She was in heat and prime for breeding but she had rejected every one of the studs presented to her. Varian had never heard of a mare doing that before. It was peculiar behaviour for a horse, yet personally familiar.
He was intimately conversant with sexual drives, being prone to them himself. As that rarest of things, a male Omega, his life had never been an easy one. And like the mare, he was choosy. He would not lie with any Alpha. And the one he eventually took was the most unlikely.
His stud master, a solid old orc called Therum, was waiting by the stableyard with the mare's iron-braced halter. "She don't like that one either, King. What now?"
Varian was about to ask for ideas when he heard a shout and the sound of galloping steel-shod hooves on the alley cobbles. He turned in time to see a dirty brown horse charge up to the yard fence and swivel and lash out with his back hooves at the fence railings. Two or three massive kicks later the top bars were in pieces. Before any of the handlers could even think of getting close he backed up and jumped the broken wood with a complete lack of grace. It was like watching a force of nature.
Varian expected violence. The Demon had turned to watch as he'd landed, ears back and eyes narrowed. The ugly stud stepped forward carefully, head down and she dipped her head to smell the stallion. She made a soft whickering sound and butted the side of his head with a rough push. And moments later the stallion was behind her and the mating was done.
Varian swore and strode to the stableyard fence. "Who owns that piece of shit?!"
"Ah, sorry, sir, that would be me." The little goblin trader edged up to the fence, skin a sickly green. "That particular big piece of shit got away from me – again. Sorry about the whole breeding thing, he has a way of doing what he wants. Real inappropriate he…"
"Oh shut up! Can't you control your animals?"
"Normally yes sir. That one has a mind of his own. Now, about the breeding fee, I think…" He went even greener as Varian's eyes narrowed. "…I'll waive it this time." His ears perked up. "You looking for a stallion, King? By any chance?"
Goblins moved fast, probably a racial trait, because he managed to dodge Varian's boot and made a quick exit from the yard. All the King could do was lean on the fence and watch the strange couple standing close together in the corral. The stud was ugly, certainly: a big, blocky head, a thick neck, bulky hindquarters and a solid, no-nonsense body. An older warhorse, probably. And obviously to his mare's taste.
And around eleven months later she dropped a filly with aspects of both parents. She would grow into a cunning beast, one who gave her trust to few but for those few she would carry them into any battle with her father's strength and her mother's intelligence. So he bought the stud from the little greedy goblin because it seemed a sensible thing to do, and because The Demon would accept no other.
And he was reminded of the strange pairing of those two some months later when his own Heat came upon him…
The newly appointed Ambassador from the Sin'dorei arrived on a day when Garrosh was across the other side of Kalimdor dealing with an uprising among the centaurs in Desolace that had attacked a Horde base in numbers. Varian knew Garrosh would get swept up in the excitement of battle and it was quite likely he'd forgotten the date. Not that he paid all that much attention to calendars, or to much of anything to do with Blood Elves. It was unusual, though, for that distraction to take his mind from important personal matters.
To Varian calendars were significant. They marked the passing of time in days and weeks and months from one Heat to the next, and his Heats were very regular. He was a week away from one and it was already starting to make itself known. His skin was becoming more sensitive to temperature and touch, his moods were more unpredictable than normal and without Garrosh beside him, his sleep was disturbed and broken. Like a storm on horizon, the hunger was getting closer.
The arrival of new faces into the Hold was a break in the routine he would normally have enjoyed. This time, however, it was more than a break, it was something akin to an emotional earthquake.
The new Ambassador's name was Eminar Brightblade and he was apparently related to Orgrimmar's representative of the Reliquary. The two Blood Elves were talking quietly when Varian walked into the main Hold chamber and as the taller of the two turned towards him, the air around Varian suddenly hummed with a very familiar sensation - because the tall, very well-built Sin'dorei focusing on him with that well-known intensity was an Alpha.
Blood Elves were usually slender and on the light side as far as body structure was concerned, but Eminar Brightblade was wide-chested, well-muscled and tall, as tall as Varian. He was also handsome – as most Blood Elves were – but with the extra glowing power of an Alpha. They were always large, strong, compelling creatures and this elven version was no different.
Oh, this isn't going to go well….
He stood still, undecided as to what he should do. Logic said, get the hell out of there but he hated retreat from anything or anyone. But the way the tall Sin'dorei moved towards him, the smooth, almost feral tread, the unblinking stare of the predator, all spelled Bad in just about every tongue he knew. He straightened, and glared and he thought he might have hissed in annoyance but all that earned him was a very satisfied smile.
"King Varian, such a pleasure to meet you finally."
"I can't say the same. What was Lor'themar thinking, sending you here!"
"Oh, I doubt he Lord Regent gave it a moment's thought," Eminar said softly as he circled Varian. "Even if he had, well, I can be very…persuasive..." Varian's skin prickled as warm breath stirred his hair and he felt a finger trail briefly across his back.
"I don't believe I gave you permission to touch me." He definitely hissed that time and Eminar stopped in front of him, far too close for comfort.
"Oh no, I thought you did. Are you sure?"
"You need to leave." Varian's voice shook with suppressed anger and he clenched his fists, holding himself still. "Now."
"I don’t believe you have the authority to order the dismissal of a Horde Ambassador." The Alpha stepped back a few paces, relaxed, hands tucked behind him. "Or am I wrong?"
He was right, sadly. Only Garrosh could do that, and he was many miles away. Without another word Varian swung around and headed out of the room and up the stairs to his rooms. He spoke to one of the guards on the way. "That Blood Elf doesn’t enter the private quarters."
The orc grunted and nodded. "Understood."
But he couldn't stay in his rooms forever and he knew that whenever he did leave, that damned elf would be there somewhere, hanging around like a bad smell. And hiding went against every instinct so, eventually, he washed and dressed and went downstairs and out into the city, determined not to be intimidated by …
"Good morning."
The Alpha aura was almost a solid barrier that brought him to a stop. He turned slowly to find the Ambassador leaning against a wall, arms crossed over his chest, a slight smile tilting up his mouth. Varian's jaws ached and he forced himself to relax. He sucked in a breath and let it out, slowly.
"Your presence is unwanted. Stop…" The words dried up as Eminar straightened sinuously and took a step towards him. "I said…"
"Yes, yes, I heard you. Do you know, I never realised how pleasant humans smell. It's rather nice, once you get past the sweat. Do you taste as good, I wonder?"
This Alpha was so different. He didn't have Garrosh's raw power that was encompassing and aggressive. Eminar was like a breath of wind that caressed and enticed and commanded all at once. And for any other it would have been nearly impossible to resist, but Varian wasn't just any Omega. He relaxed, releasing the power of his Heat, sending it towards the Alpha in a wash of entrancing warmth.
Eminar's eyes widened and then his body reacted, inexorably drawn by the power of Varian's Heat, beyond thought. And before Varian could do what he had intended, a very large, very familiar hand appeared off to one side. It latched around the Blood Elf's throat, pulled him away and a moment later he was flying through the air to smash into the nearest wall.
Varian twitched and spun, backing away, aware of Garrosh in all his enraged, furious Alpha power. The eyes that were fixed on the Ambassador were wide, pupils shrunken, crouching and ready to kill with his bare, outstretched hands. Not the Warchief of the Horde, this was an Alpha defending his mate against another Alpha. Garrosh was never a deep thinker and at moment Varian knew he was barely thinking at all.
The fight raged around the room, the stink of blood and sweat swirling around Varian as he slid back away to the far wall. The act of retreat was unavoidable; when Alphas fought so, as Omega he was compelled to remove himself from it. To even try and engage in it was impossible, it was an instinct deep in his blood and bone. Yet he knew what the inevitable outcome must be – one of them would die. As little as he cared for the Blood Elf, he was an Alpha, part of a diminishingly small number. And if Garrosh were to be killed, the Ambassador might be his only hope of survival.
Garrosh dying was something he found immediately distasteful. Whatever the Orc might be, he was Varian's mate and equal, and his death might well prove fatal to both of them. Something had to be done.
As he sensed the pain transmitted to him each time Garrosh was hit, an idea came to him and he quickly looked around the room. Nearby, next to the remains of a table broken in the fight, lay an eating knife. It was a small blade and he slid around and grabbed it, then backed towards the door. It had an edge for cutting meat; not very sharp but it would do the job. Varian grabbed it and, with his teeth bared and jaws clenched, shoved the blade into his right thigh.
Both Alpha shouted and turned, immediately pulled out of their rage by the pain broadcast to them. As his instinct had been to disengage himself, theirs was to protect and his pain overrode their fighting instincts. Garrosh reached him first, grabbing Varian's arms and pulling him close. He glared at the other Alpha, who backed away.
"What the fuck do you…No, you back off idiot or I'll….somebody get me a healer!...you, idiot, go get a healer and then get…here sit down, guard give me a hand…" He was babbling, switching from point to point as instinct took over and he didn’t seem able to hold one thought for long as another surfaced and emotions bubbled out in vocalised, unsubdued panic.
Not that he hung onto thinking all that well at the best of times.. Varian grunted as pain rippled through him when he moved his leg and he concentrated on not doing that. The blade wasn't that big so it hadn't gone deep but it had certainly struck the muscle and any movement hurt like hell. By the time he was sitting and his breathing eased, he realised the Ambassador was nowhere to be seen – on his way back to Silvermoon City if he had any sense – one of the city healers was perched in a chair next to him. Pain relief washed through his flesh, dulled for a second as the blade was pulled out, then returned as healing mended torn flesh. He looked up at the looming figure and his lips twitched.
"Stop glaring at me, take pity on an injured man…"
"Self-inflicted, so it doesn't count. You're a fool!"
"Me! I am not the one who got into a fight with one of his own faction ambassadors over nothing."
"Not nothing. He's an Alpha. No Alpha may touch what is mine." Garrosh ground his tusks over his teeth. "And you manipulated me. I don't like that. I don't like it one bit."
That Varian could understand, and he allowed himself to feel a touch of guilt. But only a small touch. "I did what I had to do, to ensure your survival. If you don't want that to happen, then think in future. Don't just react like some mindless beast!"
They were both getting angry, their tempers frayed by the fight and Varian's growing Heat. He felt flushed, felt the familiar glow as if a bright light was shining beneath his skin and a thirst grew that only Garrosh could quench. Yet he resisted it, settled himself and let that calm wash out to his mate. The dark flush of the orc's skin lessened and Garrosh's nostrils flared.
"Doing it again. Trying to control me."
Varian nodded slowly and said nothing. There really wasn't anything he could say because it was true, and though often necessary he could appreciate Garrosh's anger. He stood and sighed, wanting more than anything to be home, with Anduin and his people, sitting before the fire and thinking of nothing more than his next meal and quiet rest in his own bed. And in that weird way that Garrosh sometimes had of picking up on his moods, the Orc grunted.
"After this time, go home. You need to be there for a while. Away from me."
His eyebrows rose in surprise. Garrosh hated him being away. "Please don't tell me you are growing some empathy. I do not know if I could handle that."
"Handle that?" Garrosh said with a smirk, "or something else?"
Varian gave the sighing sound of a person hit by a well directed pun. "Amusing." The emotions had calmed and in that time they were more centred on each other, the stupidity of the past while forgotten. At least for then. He stood still as Garrosh stepped closer and wrapped large arms around him, and he settled his head into Alpha's upper chest.
Garrosh smelled of sweat and dissipating anger and the familiar hot tang of an Alpha. Varian let himself be held and stroked and considered how well they fitted together, given their personalities possessed so many jagged edges. As attractive as the Sin'dorei Alpha had been, being with him would have had none of the lustful, aggressive power of being with Garrosh. Ultimately, his own monster suited him best of all.