Chapter Text
It had taken a lot of planning and effort to get to this point. She had a right to be proud of herself, the troll found. Who else could have found a way into Stormwind Keep, circumventing flying patrols, guards- with and without dogs- magic wards, magically locked doors, and the good, old nightingale floors, without getting detected?
No one but her.
Of course, it hadn‘t exactly been a nine-to-five. She‘d had to make countless forays, first to find a way over the walls, then into the Keep, voodoo amulett always around her neck to warn her of magical threats. Every time she hit a dead end, she doubled back and tried again. Every time she found a way past one layer of protection, she made it a point to remember where the weak spot was and returned to it later and so, step by step, she had wormed her way inside with no one in the city being the wiser.
Breaking the lock on Anduin Wrynn‘s bedchamber window with one hand while hanging from the sill with the other had been easy after that.
Click, went the lock. The window swung open and she pulled herself up and over, tucking her lanky body into a roll forward so as to land with minimum noise on the carpet inside. A quick look around assured her she was alone. (A guard being posted -inside- the room was the one risk she couldn‘t avoid by any means, but it seemed as if, in the safety of his own rooms, the Boy King of Stormwind thought such measures unnecessary. More fool him.)
Quickly she pushed up from her crouch and closed the window behind her. There was not a mark to show it had been opened by force, she noted, mentally patting herself on the back. Perfect. He‘d never suspect until it was too late.
Now there was only one thing to be done; wait for her prey to make its appearance. Pulling the Shadows around herself to shroud herself in invisibility, she settled down to wait.
For a long, long, time.
Apparently, Anduin Wrynn was a busy human. It was past midnight when she finally heard steps outside that weren‘t the loud tramp and clank of an armored guard on their rounds. By that time, she had thoroughly investigated the chamber and was even more thoroughly bored. Her daggers were as sharp as they could be. The poison on them had been reapplied three times over. She‘d even tried to read one of the books she found lying on the bedside table, but found the human script indecipherable.
Hearing those steps outside, however, put her back on her guard immediately and flooded her body with excitement and purpose.
The door‘s handle turned and he walked in, blond hair tousled as if he had run his fingers through it in exasperation at least ten times in the past five minutes. He was muttering to himself, frustration obvious in his low voice, and his face looked wan (even more so than those pale human faces usually looked to a troll) and drawn. Bags under the eyes down to his knees and so on.
The troll smirked to herself. Soon, she‘d put him out of that misery. Quite soon.
When he started undressing, she had to bite her lip to keep from snickering. That soft, pale skin, all ivory and rose. So light-boned he looked like a bird and no muscles to speak of... it was cute, really. She wondered what that body would feel like under her hands, what her blue fur would look like against that backdrop of cream-colored skin, and if he would cry out when she bit his throat.
Gwonna find out soon enough.
Now he was down to his smalls.
Now, it was time to make her move. She knew from report that the young Wrynn was a wielder of the Light, so it was imperative that he wouldn‘t be able to move his hands, and just as important that he could not utter one word.
She tackled him.
The bed muffled the `whump` as they went down together, her hands already holding his arms in a death grip and her mouth descending on his, capturing his lips before he could so much as gasp in surprise. Pointy tusks tore the skin to both sides of his mouth, adding the scent of blood to the one of soap and nervous sweat he was wearing. Not at all the way a male ought to smell in her opinion, but, well... humans were humans.
He tried to kick and she straddled him, sitting down firmly on his thighs. With his writhing rendered ineffective, he stilled and she smiled, letting her tongue dart out to lick across his lips, probing, curious what he would taste like.
And he obliged her. That might have had more to do with her right hand ghosting down over his ribs and pinching his nipple as it went, drawing another gasp from him, both his arms now held firmly in her left, but who was she to complain?
Surprisingly, he didn‘t taste like the milk and honey she would have expected. She caught the faint traces of wine and something tart before he tried to bite down on her tongue, to her delight. Slipping her tongue back out of the warm cavern of his mouth, she reciprocated by biting his lip, sharp teeth again drawing blood that she lapped up eagerly. He growled deep in his throat, a sound that came out quite troll-like.
Next second, he failed to stifle a moan that sounded very human. Her hand was now slipping toward his flat boy‘s belly and he resumed his struggling, but for all that she was small for a troll she was still able to pin him down with rather disappointingly little effort.
Her fingers found fabric, hooked beneath the waistband of his smalls, started to drag it down slowly. He froze, eyes wide. He hadn‘t really believed it right up to this moment, she realized with a chuckle. Really cute.
With another deep, sloppy kiss that he tried clumsily to match and a flourish of her hand, she pulled his undergarments off of him, bounced up from the bed and held her trophy aloft triumphantly.
„And dat be one bet I be winnin‘.“, she told him in Orcish. „T‘anks muchly, yer Majesty.“
And left one very bewildered and even more tousled human King behind as she blew him a kiss, bowed deep, and took the way back out the window with his smallclothes tucked safely inside her bag.