Title: Cold Comfort
By: Bridget McKennitt
Pairing: Wing Commander Guse/Wing Commander Jeztor
Rating: PG
Word Count: 399
Summary: Another battle for Alterac Valley has come and gone, and the Horde remain victorious. Guse and Jeztor share a moment in the aftermath.
Contains: Any warnings given to World of Warcraft, including video game violence.
Disclaimer: World of Warcraft is owned by Blizzard. They are used here without permission, and for entertainment purposes only. No challenge or infringement upon the copyright is intended, nor should any be inferred.
Vanndar's bunker burned brightly in the distance as Guse landed her bat inside Frostwolf Village. Jeztor was already there feeding her bat mount the flesh of Stormpike Lieutenants.
"It was a glorious battle," Guse said by way of greeting. "The Alliance scum fled before the might of the Horde."
Jeztor nodded, acknowledging Guse's presence. "I particularly enjoyed the dying yelps of the gnomes. I ordered the peons to bring back their corpses to feed my fleet."
Guse handed the reins of her mount to an orc peon just as Jeztor finished feeding her bat. The two wing commanders walked towards the intimidating building looming over them that was the Frostwolf Keep.
"That was a brutal battle. The kind that makes the blood pump for more." Guse flexed the muscles in her arm as she gripped the axe tied to her belt.
Jeztor chuckled darkly. "I wouldn't know anything about that. We Forsaken do not need to worry about petty things like blood flow."
"Right. I bet you don't feel the cold chill of the valley."
Jeztor shrugged a bony shoulder. "It is more body memory than anything else when I feel the cold. I mostly miss the comforts of the living."
Guse nodded sharply. Of the many Forsaken she had fought side by side with, most of them preferred to keep silent about their time before they joined the undead ranks. Either it was because their memories were too painful to dredge up or they'd shed their pasts in order to fully immerse themselves as Forsaken.
"The only comforts I need now are serving my Queen and the Horde, and destroying anything that stands in the way of that goal."
Guse turned, stopping just as they entered the keep, her long braided ponytail cutting through the air with the sudden movement. "Are those your only comforts? What about the comfort of a partner through the thick of battle who knows you inside and out? What about the comfort of someone who will slaughter a hundred Alliance and more just to rescue you from capture at their lumber mill?"
Jeztor raised her hand to Guse's face, her skeletal hand contrasting with the green of Guse's skin. "Forgive my brash talk. You are right. There are more comforts than I realized." She pressed her lips lightly against Guse's before stepping back. "We need to hurry. General Drek'Thar will want our report."
