The Trade Princess’ Wish
Nagrand was beautiful in the late winter, or at least whatever passed for winter in that dying world. The sun loomed over the rolling plains with the vigil of an oppressive father, with hot rays bearing down on man and beast alike coaxing them inside. It was a day to stay indoors and rest drunk off of palm wine or feasting on melons and Talbuk.
But for one troblin, it was just another day.
Pexi had been training throughout most the afternoon, beating on the engineered dummies that her fiance had created. Each one had springs, gears, and other features installed that could withstand her might. Lesser dummies often shattered barely an hour into a training session, but these dummies were tough enough that even after morning passed into afternoon, only a few nicks marred the otherwise flawless machine. The strong half-breed took it as a challenge that she was determined to overcome.
Pexi took a break from her training to draw in a breath and wipe a sleeve across her sweat-streaked brow.
“I swear, this shit’s going down if it’s the last thing I do!” she said.
She looked over her shoulder, expecting a taunt or tease from her fiancee only to be met with an empty seat beneath the nearest shade.
“Doll?” Pexi asked. “Where’d ya get off to?”
Pexi thought about returning to her training, but if Vixiee wasn’t out there watching her spar as she always did, something MUST have been on her mind. She slammed her axe into a stump by her side, then turned towards the home she and Vixiee shared. As she approached the door and pushed it open, her thoughts roamed from the dummies to her mate and love.
~~~
Vixiee Bootsguard, her bosses sister and the Trade Princess of the Boltassembly Cartel, was an impressive warrior. Where Pexi charged in like a dervish, Vixiee danced across the battlefield with shield in hand and a smile on her face. Where Pexi preferred Troll and Orcish axes that could cleave trees in two, Vixiee preferred curved blades that sang with each flick of her wrist. In many ways, the women were opposites, with Vixiee fighting as much on her feet and with her mind as she did with her strength while Pexi preferred to overwhelm her foes with pure adrenaline-fueled bravado. But despite Pexi’s undeniably greater strength, she was still only 1 to 5 on victories against her fiancee during their sparring bouts.
Sometimes the losses frustrated her, but Vixiee was always there to offer a helping hand, a word of advice, or a calm explanation on what she did to overwhelm her. Sometimes the lessons stuck, but Pexi was a woman of the here and now, so she often pushed aside her lessons in favor of dinner plans or the cartel’s next adventure.
Her thoughts wandered to how they first met, the first time they kissed, and the first intimate night they spent together. But just as she heard Vixiee humming a song, she lost focus on her thoughts just like that.
~~~
Pexi heard her love humming inside the bedroom at the top of the stairs. The curious woman climbed the stairs step by step, moving as softly as her clumsy feet allowed. The steps were made by Vixiee’s own hand, so they didn’t have the creaks that most homes had, a perfect model of domestic engineering, as opposed to the loud clanks and whirs she was used to in Trixiee’s factory.
The thought nearly crossed Pexi’s mind how Vixiee was so different from her sister Trixiee, but it was hard for the troblin to focus on more than one thought at a time.
She had finally reached the door at the top of the stairs. As her hand tested the handle and found it unlocked, she noticed that Vixiee’s singing hadn’t yet ended or slowed. She twisted the knob and opened the door, closing her free hand into a fist to pounce at her love and start a friendly brawl, one of their favorite pasttimes that often led to exhausting nights of passion.
She pushed the door open and bent at the knees ready to leap.
But she never leapt as her mind lost focus when she saw what Vixiee was wearing.
The sunlight was at the right angle to cast light through the thin blue gown that Vixiee was wearing, allowing the troblin to see her fiancee’s generous curves pressed against the gauzy material. The woman’s muscular legs and arms stretched tantalizingly as Vixiee posed in front of a mirror admiring the reflection it cast. The trade princess’ hips swayed from side to side offering an almost scandalous glimpse at the bounce her softer curves allowed. Vixiee raised her arms above her head, drawing her long red locks into a pony tail that she pinned in place with her signature skull-brand pin. The once model for Playgob still had it all these years later and Vixiee was proud of how hard she worked to maintain her appearance, the one outward sign of vanity she ever allowed.
Pexi’s cheeks burned bright red as her thoughts turned to the lurid, before another thought seized her focus and snapped her out of her spell.
“Doll?” Pexi said, “Ain’t that ya weddin’ dress?”
Vixiee cast her eyes to the side of the mirror where she could see Pexi through the reflection. She smiled sweetly so Pexi could see and bent just so with her palms on her knees in a spitting image of her cover shoot from her favorite picture in that one issue of the gent’s magazine.
“Heya love!” Vixiee said, “Good catch, this is totally my wedding dress.”
She turned at last to face Pexi and crossed her arms over her chest, a slight nod to modesty to keep Pexi from losing focus once more. Vixiee was nothing if not considerate of her fiancee’s issues.
“Well yeah,” Pexi said, “But why ya wearin’ that now? Our weddin’ ain’t for another couple’a weeks.”
Vixiee stared at Pexi and sighed for but a moment before she crossed the room and sat on the bed they shared. The sheets and pillows were in place, only slightly drawn from the touch of the goblin’s rear. She parted her lips to speak, but found herself with nothing to say…
Pexi frowned. Vixiee rarely found herself speechless. Something clearly had to be wrong.
The troblin crossed the room and sat her heavier bottom next to Vixiee, with enough distance so she wouldn’t tear her dress with the spikes of her armor. But Vixiee leaned her head to rest on Pexi’s shoulder and reached an arm to rest on her lap, while the other arm draped across the back of her shoulder. Pexi winced half expecting to hear a tear from the Shaldorei silk garment and held her breath to help her remain still.
Vixiee broke the silence that followed.
“I dunno babe,” Vixiee said, “I guess, I just wanted to feel pretty. Wealth and strength is nice but…ya know? Sometimes I just wanna pretend that I’m just a girl, ya know and not the world’s strongest woman or the soon-to-be first goblin ancestor hero.”
Pexi turned her head and kissed the top of the smaller woman’s head. It was a secret that Vixiee only shared with her fiancee and her younger sister. Beneath the self-proclaimed world’s strongest woman and the indomitable will that proudly stood up to a rogue death knight to defend a much taller orc was someone who didn’t think of herself as a real princess.
“Doll,” Pexi said, “You are the prettiest in the world. I know I say that a lot but it’s cause it’s true! So, stop beatin’ yaself up about it.”
Pexi saw the smile on her lover’s face, but noticed that the radiance didn’t quite reach up to her eyes. Vixiee was confident, bold, kind, and strong, but all of that gave her one fatal flaw that led her to darker moods when she wasn’t busy with one project or other.
She cared and because she cared, she had a hard time not taking on the troubles and pains of her cartel, her sister, goblinkind, and Pexi herself as burdens.
Sometimes, Pexi wished she were just a little smarter so she could find the right words to help push away the troubles from Vixiee’s mind, heart, and soul. But deep inside, the woman knew that because she was simple enough to not carry a thought for very long that Vixiee felt like she could share her heart’s hurts and that was all the Princess ever wished for.