Christie Golden: Thrall: Twilight of the Aspects

He wept as he spoke of this, recalling all he had seen, and felt, and done, all the horrors and kindnesses that had come his way, and a strong brown hand smoothed away the salty tears from his green face.

He spoke of Taretha and Krasus, of Nozdormu, of Alexstrasza and Kalecgos and Ysera and Kirygosa. Of his own experiences in understanding, and appreciating, and being truly present. Of the experiences he, a simple mortal orc, had endured, and the lessons he had been able to bring to beings as powerful as Dragon Aspects.

“You were given a gift,” Aggra said when he fell silent. “You were given the chance to see who you were, to learn from mistakes, and to change and grow. Few are granted such insight, my heart.”

He was still holding her hand, and he squeezed it tightly. “It was you who got me through the worst moment,” he said. “And enabled me to recall the broken Life-Binder to herself.”

Softly, whispering the words, he told Aggra of his need to be with her, to gaze upon her face. Her eyes did fill with tears as she listened, and Thrall realized that it was indeed possible to see a loving heart reflected on a beloved face.

“So I have come home,” he said at last. “Humbler, but proud of what I have been able to participate in. Ready to do more. To be my best, my highest self, at all times, to honor you, and my friends, and my world. I stand ready.”

For a long moment Aggra didn’t speak. Then finally, in a voice that was thick with emotion but bursting with pride and delight, she said, “There. That is my Go’el.”

Thrall’s lips curved around his tusks in a grin. “Go’el,” he said, the word feeling oddly comfortable in his mouth. “The name of my birth.” He regarded her for a moment and again started to speak. But before he could do so, he heard a cheerful voice behind him.

“Thrall! I only just heard. Made it back alive, I see!”

It was Rehgar, either oblivious to the intimate moment he was interrupting or, more likely, simply not caring. He hurried up to Thrall, beaming, and clapped the other orc on the shoulder. “I will wager you have many a tale for us!”

Thrall stepped back from Aggra slightly, turning to face his friend. He reached and clapped Rehgar on the shoulder.

“Rehgar, my old friend … the Thrall you knew is no more. I am Go’el, son of Durotan and Draka. Thrall only to myself”—he turned back to Aggra, squeezing her waist and smiling—“and to my love.”

Rehgar threw back his head and laughed. “Well said, my friend. Well said. I will let you tell the others, but be quick. The roasting meat is almost done, and we are ravenous. We wait upon you, but we will not wait forever!”

With a final wink, Rehgar turned and headed back to the encampment. Go’el watched him, smiling, then turned back to Aggra. He grew serious and, taking both her hands in his, said more quietly, “I meant it. I will be a thrall only to myself, and to my love… if she will have me. For the rest of our lives.”

A joyful grin spread across Aggra’s face. She squeezed his hands so tightly that he almost winced.

“I was willing to follow Thrall to the end of this world or any other,” Aggra said. “How much more would I be willing to bind my life to Go’el’s?”

He couldn’t stop smiling. He did not think he had ever been happier. He leaned his forehead on hers, grateful beyond measure that he had learned how to savor a moment, for this one was assuredly sweet. At last he pulled back, letting the moment pass into the past, and welcoming the present. For it, too, was joyful.

“Let us go back to the camp and tell the others. We have challenges and grim duties ahead. We will triumph over some, and struggle with others. But we will always do so… together.”

Hand in hand with his future lifemate, Go’el turned back to where the other members of the Earthen Ring awaited. There would be laughing and feasting tonight, celebrating his return and his future plans. On the morrow, the solemn duty of working to heal a wounded world would resume.

And Go’el would be ready.