Archive of Our Own

Sleeping in a human styled room was not something Broll found relaxing. Sure, the mattress was pleasantly firm, and the pillows soft. But the cold stone of Stormwind Keep’s walls, and the small window, felt stifling to him. He was used to being able to see the night sky, to feel the wind and hear the sounds of the boughs overhead creaking. The silence was unsettling.

A pitiful draft from the window blows the curtains of the four-poster bed. They made him uneasy, so he had tied them back. The room itself was wonderful, after all he was a guest of the King, but it wasn’t home , and so he tossed and turned. Feeling oddly restless.

Perhaps that’s why he was able to hear it. The faint sounds of footsteps tiptoeing along the floor towards him. The hair along the back of his neck rises, and he clenches his hands into fists- ready to strike. Until he picks up the familiar scent. Broll lets out a sigh.

“Valeera.” He says, voice exasperated. “What are you doing here, at this hour? ” He rolls over so he can face her.

Valeera pauses mid-stride, her eyes wide, as if she wasn’t expecting him to hear her. She frowns at him for a few moments before letting out a dramatic sigh.

“I couldn’t sleep.” She confesses, making her way to the bed. “I figured I’d come in and torment you. But it looks as if you beat me to it.” She teases, sitting on the bed and crossing her legs. Broll finds that a strange explanation. He arches a brow at her.

“That didn’t really answer the question.” Broll replies, rolling onto his back, so he can see her better. Her eyes glint with something he can’t decipher. She gets onto all fours and crawls towards him, like a nightsaber stalking its prey. “Valeera, what-” He starts to ask, before being cut off mid-sentence as her mouth crashes against his own.

Broll tenses, hands stuck between wanting to grip the blood elf, and fisting the sheets. What was going on here? Whatever he had expected, it wasn’t this. Valeera pulls away from him, by now she’s straddling his waist, with her arms around his neck. She gives a weak laugh.

“You’re so stiff.” She teases, her voice almost musical in tone. “Don’t tell me you’re shy all of a sudden.” She giggles breathlessly, her breath tickling the shell of his ear. He shudders at the sensation. She draws an invisible line from his throat down to the waistband of his trousers with one of her fingers. Broll lets out a small hiss.

“If that’s what you wanted, why didn’t you just say so earlier? Instead of sneaking in here like a thief or an assassin. ” He growls, leaning down to bite at her neck. She doesn’t answer, instead letting her head fall back, throat bared to him. That should have had alarm bells ringing- Valeera was never submissive.

One of her arms untangles itself from his hair, snaking down his torso. Valeera captures his mouth in a scorching kiss, biting down on his bottom lip, and using his moment of shock to allow her tongue into his mouth. She doesn’t hold back- she never has. He groans, wanting to grab her and topple her down onto the sheets, he’s always hesitant, given he could easily crush her smaller frame in his arms. She smirks against him- as if she can read his mind. Her wandering hand roams lower and lower, until it leaves his body and snakes down her own thigh. He growls into the kiss, trying to take back control. There’s a sound, almost like a sword being drawn, and then he feels it. The cool press of steel against his neck.

Valeera has pulled a dagger, the one she keeps in her boot. Broll feels his body instantly freeze, the rush of adrenaline coursing through him. They break apart from their kiss, breaths mingling in the small space between them. Valeera smirks at him, her hair tousled and no longer tied up. She looks incredibly beautiful like that, with the light of Elune illuminating her face.

“You're awfully calm, for a man that has a knife to his throat.” She purrs at him, rolling her hips from where she straddles him, teasing his hardening cock.

“There’s not really anything I can do.” Broll answers, enjoying the way her pupils dilate as she revels in her power over him. Her red lips tug into her signature smirk, and he’s never wanted her as much as he does now. “I suppose I just have to trust you, implicitly.” He teases, letting his voice drop an octave and enjoying the effect it has on her.

“And do you?” She asks, voice sultry as she leans towards him. Her lips just out of reach of his own. Her eyes search his face, and it’s the first time tonight he’s seen uncertainty in her expression. “Do you trust me? Even though I’m a Blood Elf.”

A year ago he would have said no. Well he would have transformed and mauled her more likely. But now? He can’t imagine a safer pair of hands to hold his life. Despite the blade against his jugular, he knows her. Knows Valeera is a master of her craft, that she would never hurt him. It’s why he fights his fight or flight response. Doing his best to surrender to her. He couldn’t deny her anything.

“With my life.” He whispers back, voice husky with his desire for her. Valeera shudders, her doubt completely forgotten as she leans in to kiss him. He wants to deepen the kiss, but her dagger renders him immobile, he can only take what is offered. His body did not want to be cut.

She pulls back from him, her rosy lips, starting to show the first signs of bruising. He smirks at her, which in turn has her raise a brow at him. The dagger leaves his throat. She stares at him transfixed, as she turns the point to the hollow of his throat. He can’t help but swallow, the movement making his throat just graze her dagger tip. Her eyes follow the movement with rapt attention.

He sucks in a breath as she trails the dagger down, leaving goose-bumps in her wake. The cold press of the dagger tip, making his heart race and stomach flip, as she traces it down his torso, down his abs, past his naval- she’s heading for dangerous ground. And yet all he can do is sit there, staring, transfixed at the sight. Her hands are steady, her eyes taking him in shamelessly.

“I don’t like these.” She says, wrinkling her nose as she stares at his sleep trousers. He frowns, unsure how to respond to her criticism. Until he sees her grinning wickedly at him, she bites seductively on her plump bottom lip, before bringing her knife to his trouser leg. The knife glides along the thin fabric, the sound so smooth and steady, unlike his heart beat or his breathing. The cool air of the night hits his bare legs, making him yearn for her to cover him with her body. But Valeera simply grins, letting the flat edge of her blade, ran over him, the cold metal making the hairs on his legs rise. Yet the smooth glide of the unblemished metal feels nice on his skin, like a cold caress.

Valeera repeats the motion to the other leg, they both watch with fascination as the torn fabric peels away revealing his legs, the muscles flexing and tensing with anticipation and self-restraint. He could so easily over power her right now, her teasing driving him mad.

Freed from its confines, his cock, springs free, standing proudly to attention. Valeera stares at it with round eyes for a moment, before licking her lips. He feels a jolt of anticipation tingle down his spine. She plays with the knife in her hand, he becomes fixated on how fluently she passes it between her hands, the way she twirls it. He sucks a breath in, feeling his stomach drop as the flat edge of the blade slides over his flushed cock head.

“Valeera!” He chokes out, not sure what he wants to say. Does he want her to stop? Does he want her to keep going? He can’t tell the mix of pleasure and fear is heady, and he finds that they are both watching in awe, the way a droplet of ejaculate drips onto her blade.

She bites her lip, eyes flickering up to him, barely concealing her want. She crawls back over him, biting along his neck, his hands try to tangle themselves in her hair, desperate for some contact she doesn’t have total control of. He gasps as he feels a small sting. Her blade being drawn along his torso. Valeera purrs sensually in his ear.

He looks down, hissing at the small red line left in the wake- not bleeding, but she’s applying enough pressure to the blunt side to mark him. He would have settled for her fingernails, but Valeera never did things in small measure. She leans back to admire her handiwork, her eyes glint with satisfaction as her finger follows the path the blade left behind.

“You’re like a work of art.” She says quietly, “And this is my signature.” Broll isn’t even sure if she’s speaking to him, or herself. He instead huffs out a laugh, trying not to squirm, as his stomach feels as if a million butterflies have erupted into flight.

Valeera, completely unaware of the effect she has over him, lets her knife follow the hard planes of Broll’s muscle. His hairs stand on edge as the cold knife, lazily works its way around the outline of his abs. She makes a low whistle. He arches a brow at her antics.

“You’re like a kid with a crayon there.” He manages to quip, breath hitching as the knife passes over a ticklish area.

“Oh?” She hums in response, grinning as she brings the knife back over that spot. He tries not to squirm, but his body betrays him. “ This seems to be a place of interest.” She adds, teasing his ticklish area- just below his ribs, with featherlight touches of the knife. Broll can’t help but let out a small whimper, feeling suddenly hot.

“Valeera.” he hisses, feeling impatient with her teasing. She’s still fully clothed, too! He growls, already planning his move. He would surprise her. Unaware of the danger, she brings her knife to his shoulder, her breath fans out over his skin, sending shivers down his spine. She seems to be following the path of his tattoos, eyes so focused. He watches her, fixating on the smallest crease in her forehead, the slight wrinkle to her nose. He almost forgets himself. Broll waits, looking for a moment of weakness, a moment when she’ll let her guard down. He may have strength, but Valeera was dextrous, and knew how to play it to her advantage.

Once he’s sure she’s too engrossed in her task, he makes his move. With surprising speed, he flips her onto her back, her dagger arm, firmly in his grasp and out of reach of her other hand. He had learned the hard way about her ability to dual wield. He wasn’t falling for it again. She seems genuinely caught off guard, her eyes wide- her chest heaving with rapid breaths. He smirks down at her, pleased at the way she regards him, her eyes following the pull of his mouth.

“Took you long enough.” She pants, a smug little grin on her face. Broll arches a brow, feeling very much like he’s still a pawn in her game. She turns her head to stare at the hand he has pinned firmly against the mattress. He follows her gaze with interest. Using his strength to force her to relinquish her hold- but not too rough.

She gasps as the dagger drops from her grasp, seemingly not expecting that move- nor when Broll takes the dagger himself.

“You’re too slow , Valeera.” Broll rasps out, his voice raspy with need. “How unlike you.” He scolds her dryly.  Her jaw drops with mock offence. “Time to speed things along.”

He brings the knife to the top of her bodice, he can see her heart jumping in her chest, as the thrill takes over. He gently caresses the top of her breasts with the cold steel, copying her movements from earlier. She lets out a small gasp. 

“I hope you brought a spare.” He muses out, with a wicked grin. Her brows furrow and she looks as if she’s about to open her mouth, but before she can ask, he decides to show rather than tell. 

The blade cuts through the material with ease, the laces of her corset part like melted butter for a hot knife. She shrieks at him, but it quickly becomes a moan, as the tip of the blade just faintly brushes against her taut stomach. She arches, and he has to pull back, afraid she’d stab herself. Valeera smirks up at him, batting her eyes coyly, and nibbling her kiss swollen lips with her teeth.

“What's the matter?” She teases, her voice breathy and high. “Afraid to lose control?” She writhes sensually, her breasts breaking free of the tatters of her clothes. Her nipples are already pebbling in the cold air. She lets out a small moan. Broll gives a snarl that rumbles in his chest. Instead of frightening her, she only looks satisfied. With a grunt he cuts away the rest of the fabric, arching his brow as it’s revealed she has no underwear on.

“It’s a bit snug, don’t you think, for panties .” She teases up at him, voice sultry as she spreads her legs ever so slightly, giving him a glimpse of what he wants. He grumbles at her, letting his eyes drink her in. Her pale skin illuminated by the light of Elune is magnificent, he longs to run his hands over her, to feel her warmth and her surprising softness.

“One of these days you’ll get yourself into real trouble.” Broll lectures, half-heartedly. He knows she is more than capable of handling herself, there’s just something that compels him to protect her. She gives a breathless laugh.

He brings the dagger to her chest, just over where her heart is. He presses the tip against her flawless flesh, with a small enough pressure to render her body immobile. Her laughter dies, and she gazes up at him questioningly.

They gaze at each other, both waiting for the other to say or do something. And yet, this moment of quiet and stillness feels natural.

“Not even going to resist?” Broll asks, looking amused. She grins at him, her red lips so enticing.

“Whatever for?” She purrs. “I rather like this side of you. Just think, one small move , and you can get rid of me, permanently.” She adds, peering at him through her lashes. She enjoys testing him, knowing full well he’s wrapped around her finger. Broll gives a dark chuckle, running the blade down the length of her body in one fluid stroke, watching the shiver of delight that ripples through her, she moans sinfully at his touch.

“You learn fast.” She says, chest heaving, eyes half lidded. He smirks dangerously at her, leaning down to keep his lips just out of her reach.

“There are things I learned that you can only dream of.” He whispers against her mouth. Pleased at the way her eyes darken. Her mouth parts perfectly, and she gives a small whine at the implication. “Just as well, neither of us is tired.” He purrs, pleased to see her pulse dancing in her neck.

He sits back up, keeping her pinned beneath his hips, she seems too aroused to use her now freed arms, just staring at him eagerly. She was ready. With a predatory grin he tosses the dagger across the room. Before it’s even clattered to the floor, he’s upon her, teeth grazing her lips, as he pulls her into a searing kiss. Pinning both her arms above her head, Broll rocks his hips forward, he had no intention of letting her out from under him tonight. Tonight he would show her what it meant to be truly at his mercy.