Fandom: World of Warcraft
Pairing: Male Orc OC x Male Human OC [Romantic]
Rating: Teen
Content: Alternative Universe, Theramore joins the Horde, Bigotry in a fantasy setting, Worker abuse, Alcoholism
Date originally written: 6th June 2019
Summary: After some very questionable actions of betrayal are committed by the Alliance, Theramore has no choice but to side with the Horde.

The citizens of Theramore and the people of the Horde alike do their best to get along, but things were never easy before, so why would they be easy now?

Told in the perspective of an overworked human fisherman, a disgruntled orcish hunter, and the fluffiest dog that has ever existed.

Author's notes: This AU has consumed my entire ass and I apologise for absolutely nothing.

Details about how Theramore joined the Horde are vague and up to the reader's interpretation since I intend on focusing more on how the citizens of Theramore are coping with this odd, new situation that they find themselves in.

I give credit to Howlingmadness on tumblr for being the person who started this AU, but also a huge shoutout to Jaina_Pridemoore on ao3. They wrote a fanfic also based on this AU (called Frostfire) which is what initially gave me the inspiration to write this fic ♥

They were staring at him.

He was always being stared at. Always being talked about in hushed whispers behind his back, where they thought he couldn't hear them.

He'd gotten used to it. He tried not to think about it too much.

But every morning, when he got up out of his slightly-too-small bed to take his wolf out on a walk for a good bit of exercise, it would annoy him just a little bit more.

They're supposed to be my allies. We're supposed to work together, we’re supposed to have common ground.

It was quite obvious to him that he had nothing in common with any of the people he was surrounded by. But if he didn't at least try to find something in common with them, things would never change.

He wondered if things ever would change. It was entirely possible that humans and other races of the Horde would never get along, ever.

Well, I won't know if I don't try to make a change.

He decided was going to challenge himself. The next human he saw (that preferably wasn't a guard), he'd speak to. He'd say hello, and try to make some sort of conversation to break the ice.

When he finally came across one of the locals on his walk one day, and spoke to them, he realised just what a mistake he'd made. He saw their normally pink skin become very pale, like they’d fallen ill. Their icy blue eyes went wide, and their body seemed to be frozen in shock. For a moment he genuinely thought he’d somehow caused them to go into shock, or perhaps even made them paralysed simply by saying ‘Hi’.

“Hello? Are you still alive?”

The human said nothing for a few more seconds before they seemed to come out of their shocked state, blurting out a sentence that they had not properly thought through.

"I-I...I didn't know that..o-orcs could speak Common..!"

He was silent for all of 30 seconds in utter bafflement before he realised he needed to say something back.

"Of course I speak Common! What kind of orc would I be if I moved into a city whose official language I couldn't understand?"

The human merely whimpered and apologised profusely before going back to sweeping the cobblestone street, completely ignoring him and physically distancing themselves from him in the hopes that they would be left alone.

The next day, he tried to talk to the human again, but the moment they saw him, they quickly made themselves scarce.

Well, that obviously wasn't going to work.

...In hindsight, he had gotten a bit defensive...and a little bit loud, too. He also towered over the human by a few feet at least , and he'd had his hulking wolf by his side. He must have looked incredibly intimidating to the pale little human. Which was a good thing on the battlefield, but not here in Theramore. He wasn't supposed to be intimidating the humans of Theramore.

They're our allies.

And yet he still felt that he was being treated like a savage beast incapable of kindness or gentleness.

He huffed to himself, and he looked over to the panting mass of white fur beside him. How could he be an unkind, savage beast and still raise a wolf to be as loyal, honourable and filled with unconditional love like the one that was currently by his side?

The wolf in question wagged her tail at him and sniffed up his torso until she got to his face, where she began to fiercely lick him. He laughed out loud at the affection that tickled his face and neck, and there was no doubt in his mind that the human that had promptly fled him had heard his hearty laugh.

He gave his wolf a good scratch right behind her ears.

One day they'll realise I'm not a beast.

The ocean waves had been a lot less intense and aggressive that morning than they had been days prior.

Trying to catch crustaceans in the shallows with your bare hands before the sun had even come up was a lot less fun when the sea was mercilessly pelting waves at your waist. But today he was not fishing for any crabs or lobsters. No, he would be going out on his father’s sailboat this time, looking for trout. The weather was actually nice for once, and some of the other fishermen had been speaking about a school of Mithril Head Trout they claimed to have seen a bit further south of the city than they were usually spotted.

Despite the calmer seas, he knew that this fishing journey would still be a difficult task. Knowing that he would be doing it alone and would have to catch a very particular amount of fish in only a fraction of the time that he would actually need only served to make him more stressed. The fact that it was four in the morning and the sun had a few more hours before it actually rose really didn't help matters, but that had been his life for a few years now, so he had no reason to start complaining about it now.

It was obvious that he was overworked and stressed to the bone, but with only himself and his father keeping their small stall in the market that sold fish in business, he really didn't have much of a choice.

And with the arrival of the Horde, came the sudden appearance of a rival business, as well. Which had more fishermen and fresh, imported fish from Durotar that couldn't be caught anywhere near Theramore.

How lovely.

The only thing he had going for him was that he knew these parts better than any outsider would, whether they were an orc or a human. He knew where the best fishing spots where, he knew the best techniques, and if it was absolutely necessary he could catch the fish with his bare hands. He was the one person keeping this family business alive.

He didn’t blame his father for not being able to do much sailing or fishing anymore, especially at his age, and he understood fully that without his father he would not be the great fisherman that he was without his guidance, but the business was doomed to fail. There were no additional fishermen to help them with their daily tasks and they didn’t have enough money to hire any additional fishermen either because the amount of money they did make was spent to feed his father’s addiction to whiskey.

And with a rival business suddenly popping up, with more variety in fish, more workers who are paid fairly and with an owner who isn’t a right prick, it seemed quite inevitable that their own business would fall.

He tried not to think about his impending financial doom when he headed south in his father’s boat. He didn’t want to ruin a perfectly good fishing session with grim thoughts.

He'd had to stop fishing far earlier than he'd liked. He hadn't caught as many fish as he knew he'd need, but he wasn't about to risk his own safety for just a few more fish.

The waves had become more aggressive, and in the distance a storm could be seen coming in from the sea, westbound. It'd come completely out of nowhere, but it really didn't surprise him. The past few days had been just as stormy.

He came into the docks as quickly and as safely as he could with the waves rocking his boat and the wind blowing with more vigour and violence than it had before.

It didn't take him much time to move the fish he had caught from the sailboat all the way to the market. He'd only been gone for 3 hours and had caught a decent amount of fish, but he knew it wouldn't be enough. Not for his father, at least.

Usually he would catch as many fish as he could, and once there wasn't enough room for anymore fish on the sailboat, he'd come back to shore to unload them for his father to sell in the market and then he'd be off again to catch more fish. He would do this until the day ended, go to sleep completely exhausted, and wake up the next morning at 3 am to do it all over again.

At this point, he'd be almost glad if the business failed. At least then he could get some actual rest for once.

“Ye back already, Tom? Well, that was bloody quick. Let me see what ye caught, then.”

Tom unloaded the fish from the cart he was carrying them in, laying them out on the large table for his father to inspect. “They’re all mostly Mithril Head Trout, but I caught a few cod as well; Rockscale to be specific.”

“And that’s all?”

Great. His father was scrutinising him. Again.

“Yes, that’s all. If I stayed out there any longer the waves would have swept me and ye bloody sailboat away. I won’t be able to catch anything for the rest o’ the day ‘til this storm lets up.”

His father sighed, and Tom knew he was in for a fantastic day of being criticised and yelled at until he could go out fishing again.

“Well if ye can’t fucking fish, yer gonna sit here and sell these bloody fish instead. Don’t bother me ‘til the storm lets up or ‘til the day is bloody over.” And with that, his father hobbled away without another word to let him deal with the fish sales.

At least he wouldn’t have to deal with his father’s shite. And he’d be getting a well earned break from being on the water, for once.

As far as he was concerned, it was a win-win for him.

He loved his wolf very, very much. She was intelligent, she knew who was trustworthy and who wasn't before he knew, and she was very aware of the emotions of those around her. She was fearless and strong, and she was the best an orc could ever ask for in a wolf.

However, she had a very bad habit of going on walks without him.

In Orgrimmar, there was never an issue with that. Wolves went on walks by themselves all the time, mostly so they could meet up with their other wolf friends, or get free food and endless amounts of love and affection from anybody that they approached. He had no problem with it in Orgrimmar. He knew that his wolf would be safe, and other citizens of Orgrimmar knew she wasn’t a danger or a menace to society. It was completely fine and considered to be normal.

The same could not be said for Theramore.

He knew that the humans feared him and his wolf, but as long as he looked like he was in control of his wolf in public, they mostly ignored her.

But knowing that she would be walking the streets of Theramore by herself, where he had no idea how the locals would react to her without the presence of her orcish owner made him very concerned. What if someone provoked her? What if she tried to interact with someone and they screamed or yelled, prompting the guards to attack? What if she tried to chew on something that should not be chewed on? What if she ate somebody's pet cat?

He was not normally a nervous orc. He felt no anxiety before a battle, he had no problems getting into debates with people that were intimidating or had a higher rank than him (though he still showed as much respect as could be given), and nor did he get paranoid about what some humans said about him behind his back.

However, the knowledge that his trusted companion could possibly be in a type of danger that could have serious consequences besides just death for everyone involved truly scared him.

He had to find her, and quickly.

Poofy white fur flapped in the wind that came in from the east as a large wolf trotted down the streets of Theramore.

It smelled very different here than in the hot desert that she used to call home. The creatures here were different, too; small and reeking of nervous energy. They didn't pet her, nor did they give her any food. They didn't even call for her, or pay her any attention whatsoever. Some of them even recoiled at her presence.

She didn't like this place at all. This place was very weird. She started sniffing the ground to learn more.

She sniffed everything she came across, new stories and events being told to her through her nose as the scents filled her lungs. She could smell the urine of some creature that had marked its territory not too long ago. The ground told the tale of another wolf who had walked these same smooth stones only a few days ago.

There were many stories that were told on the ground, on the walls, inside containers and through the windows of creature's dens.

Her ears perked up at the sudden sound of birds cawing at her. She looked up to see a black bird and its friend hanging out on large wooden pole. They were looking at her curiously. One of them flew closer to inspect her. She stared back at them, sniffing the air to see if their black feathers told stories.

They smelled like they had been eating rotting flesh.

She turned away and kept walking. She sniffed for new smells, looking for something to entrance her.

The pungent smell of sea water was something she had gotten used to pretty quickly, but the more she walked east, the stronger that particular smell became.

When she'd first arrived here with her master, the smell of sea water almost overpowered her senses to the point of becoming an everyday nuisance. Trying to sniff for any other kind of smell became almost impossible when all she could smell was salt. Salt, salt and more salt.

Right now, however, she did not smell salt.

She could smell fish. A lot of fish.

She ran. Her legs took her where her nose told her to, and she passed by some very terrified creatures along the way. She almost wanted to turn back, to sniff out the reason why they were scared, but the smell of wiggly, slippery fish had assaulted her senses. She was not going to turn back now.

She loved fish. So much. She loved fish so, so much. She could almost taste them in her mouth.

She was drooling as she ran.

She was definitely getting closer to the fish now, and when she knew she was really close, she'd found herself in a place that was rife with all sorts smells. Many of the small, nervous creatures walked around carrying many different foods that were distracting her from her original target.

Hunt fish. Eat fish.

She trotted towards the direction of the fishy smell, and she walked by a creature she was familiar with. The ones like her master. They pet her on her head as she greeted them, being cooed at in their language that she was so familiar with. She almost felt like she was back in the desert; back home. She wanted to stay there and be pet under her chin forever, but she was still very aware of the scent of fish.

Maybe she would come back later for more pets.

She gave the nice creature a few good licks before leaving to find the fish. No more distractions, now. Only fish.

She very quickly found the fish, but there was a slight problem.

One of the small creatures was protecting them. Claiming ownership of the fish. Like how the nice creatures of the desert protected their meat.

But she knew how to convince them to give her some of their food. She was an expert at conning creatures out of their food.

She sat down in front of the table that all the nice, yummy fish were laid down upon. She could just take the fish and run, but the last time she'd done that, her master had been very upset with her. Licking him, whining at him and exposing her belly was not enough to get him to forgive her. He'd ignored her for half the day as punishment.

She'd learned her lesson.

Simply taking the fish was not okay. She had to get the creature to give it to her.

It wasn't looking at her though. It seemed to be doing something behind the table. She needed to get his attention.

"BOOF!"

Tom's entire soul left his body.

He turned around slowly, only to become witness to the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen with his own two eyes.

The most ginormous wolf he had ever seen in his life sat in front of his fish stall, staring at him with yellow eyes that pierced into his soul. Long, thick, white fur blew in the wind, making it look more like a cloud than an animal.

It's tusks- like the ones he'd seen on the orcs that walked by his stall- poked out from it's bottom jaw, pointing up and outwards. They looked about as sharp as a warriors blade.

It drooled puddles of saliva on the ground. It licked it's chops.

Oh by the Light, it's going to eat me.

End notes: I'm not revealing names of characters until other characters end up saying their name in the story, because idk I feel like it makes things a bit more interesting. also i can do what i want lol

I'm also sorry if the chapters are kind of short. I've never been good at making my fics long lmao