True Love

True Love

Written by Tonoone, a character on the Earthen Ring server, and posted on the Blizzard Earthen Ring Forums

=Part One= His arm lifts, and gently it comes down over me; with little effort I am pulled against him as his face comes to rest against the back of my neck. He makes a soft, happy sound before his breaths steady once again, and he drops into deeper slumber. A thick hand plays with the fur at my waist, and the warmth of him bites back the cold of night. Even though he is fairly riddled with muscle and his hands are covered in calluses, both are comforting and gentle when they come against me.

When he is awake, his eyes are constantly upon me. They are a shade of green that I have never seen beforelike the fields of Mulgore and the Stranglethorn waters combined. He is handsome, and young, and well off in the tribes. When we walk through the city, his arm is there for me to hold, and his head is held high with pride because I am accompanying him. He praises me in front of his friends; he beams when we are told how lovely we are together.

He gives me everything that I need, or care to want. Tonight, he piled the blankets on me and took none for himself, because I had started shivering. He kissed my cheek and told me how happy he was before he had drifted off.

And all I can do is lie here, and think about how much I loathe him.

His breath against the back of my neck makes my skin crawl. I want nothing more than to shrink from his touch, and feel the cold of the night. I hate the feel of his lips against mine; His scent disgusts me and makes me wretch. As we lie here, I listen to the sounds of the city, and I look at the planking that makes up the ceiling overhead. I look at the knots and the lines in the wood, and mull over what they vaguely resemble.

Those two knots over there, with that third down a ways more, look like the face of a courser. That series of lines over there remind me of the little waterfall in the Valley of Honor. That odd scar on that plank looks like the cocoon of the little red butterflies I have seen frequent Warsong. I found that one the other night as he was making love to me. I focused on it, and made myself forget what was happening.

I hate him for no other reason than he has not been able to make me forgethe has not been able to make me love him more. This bull has failed me. And I despise him for it.

I am good at what I do; hiding the little signs of my true feelings in what can be mistaken for little shows of affection. He thinks I am shy: I look into his eyes for only a moment, then look down at my hooves. If I avoid eye contact, he will know something is awry. If I look too long, I fear he will see the cold behind my gaze.

He thinks I like taking care of him: I braid feathers and bone beads into his mane. When I am doing such things, he sits stilland doesnt move to kiss me.

He thinks I take interest in what he does: I follow him to the forge and let him teach me how to hammer out weapons. He thinks I am a hard worker, and saving up for the day we start a family. I sit at the anvil and take out my anger and hate on the smoldering steel. I work from dawn to dusk so I dont have to be alone with him. I hammer until my hands bleed so that he wont try to hold my hand or bother me for love that night. I am saving up for my own kodo so that I do not have to share one with him, and feel his arms around me.

In Orgrimmar, I cling to his arm as we walk the streets and greet friends. My head is held high and proud, as his is. I am smiling. I cast my head down sheepishly when we are told what a nice couple we make. He smiles and speaks of his plans for the day we decide to be wed. I smile silently as he and his friends banter. I am busy looking towards another.

I dont make it obvious, for there are many eyes upon us. I make it seem like I am looking towards the tavern; he knows I have a fondness for ale, and believes it is an innocent taste. He doesnt know that I am drowning a pain within me.

The one I love walks past. He isnt alone. So I cling tighter to my bulls arm. He thinks I am looking for affection, so he stops talking for a moment to embrace me to his chest and kiss my forehead. His friends look at us and smile as I am slowly dying on the inside. I hate him for not being able to make me forget another, and they have no idea. I am good at what I do.

I hate myself for doing this. I should tell him that I am with him because I do not want to be alone. I should tell him that there is another I think about when his lips are pressed to mine, when he is holding my hand, and when he is sleeping beside me at night. I should tell him I am pretending to be happy because I will never get the one I want. I should tell him that I disgust myself, and each day I pray the Earth Mother will take pity on him and strike me dead. But she won't; it is far more fitting that I suffer in the hell I have made for myself. I have decided to hate her, as well.

The sun is setting, and his friends must be off to their homes, and us as well. By the soft way he is kissing my neck, I know what he wants to do when we get out of the public eye. I look towards the one I love as he disappears around a corner, and smile softly to the bull at my side. Hand in hand, we walk towards our home.

He replaced some of the planks on the ceiling today. Maybe one of the knots will look like a butterfly. I will find out soon enough.

=Part Two=