Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Both Sides Now	By : Firefall_Varuna Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 4997 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, races, characters, settings, or themes presented within. I do not make money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 12
- 13
- 14
Chapter 13 – Familiarity

Una heaved a weighty sigh as Anaru rose from the bed to pace across the room like a caged animal. The young Quel'dorei woman felt utterly drained, physically and emotionally, as though she had run headlong into a brick wall. Her heightened emotions had taxed her recovering body more than she could afford at the moment. Uncle Eilonel turned so he could recline on the pillows and wrapped an arm clad in vivid scarlet silk around her. Una sighed once more and briefly rested her forehead against him.
Anaru's mood was darker than she had ever seen in him previously. The days had taken their toll on him as well. Where as his father finally looked rested, Anaru looked even more haggard. Normally as well kept as he could manage in the field, his clothes were rumpled as though he had been sleeping in them and dark circles rimmed his emerald eyes. His long brown hair was tangled and unkempt, as though he had not bothered to even so much as comb it recently.
Uncle Nelaniu was frowning deeply, his expression souring to an outright scowl. Unlike Eilonel and Anaru, he looked fresh and rested despite the conversation that probably wasn't going the way he wanted. Una knew he probably wanted her to go to Dalaran with him. Frankly, she didn't really know any of her family who lived in the violet city. Most had been estranged, as Nelaniu had been, for most of her life.
The battle-mage's arms were crossed over the eye embroidered in golden thread upon his violet robes as he leaned against the foot of her bed. "Who would you choose to be this… bodyguard?" There was contempt in his words, a growl that warned he wasn't about to not have his way… whatever that might be.
Una closed her eyes briefly and hung her head. She stared at the plush comforter as she fought to control her emotions. She would break at this rate. Didn't she just tell them she couldn't handle stress right now?
"A Blood Knight." Eilonel answered simply for his son, stroking her chin with the back of his slender fingers and drawing her face up until she met his eyes. The expression upon his lined face and within his emerald eyes seemed to be begging her to calm down. Una sighed and rested her head against her Uncle once more.
"Those wretches who believe themselves to be the only true paladins?" The battle-mage spat contemptuously.
"Yes, brother, the very same Knights who appeared at my doorstep to save one of their own." Eilonel said firmly, though his voice remained gentle.
"But she isn't one of theirs." The battle-mage growled, "She's a knight of the Alliance."
"Yes, and despite that, they still came." Eilonel said resolutely.
"I never took you for a romantic, Eilonel." Nelaniu commented sardonically, his elegant, pale face twisted into an expression of both disbelief and disgust. His eyes narrowed slightly and his expression became gauging. After a moment, he added calculatingly, "Perhaps… they see her as a wayward daughter of Silvermoon. Misguided and in need of enlightenment."
Una felt a pang of anger at the battle-mage's words. She might be young and a green soldier – under the right circumstances, she might even readily describe herself as naïve – but she was no fool. What did he take her for?
"I'll talk to Talaerion Sunward and Ashal Orlinde." Anaru replied suddenly, rubbing a hand over his face. Una recognized the names. Her grandfather had taken many apprentices during his time as a paladin, most had been human, though he had instructed a very few High Elves. "Even if they refuse, they might know of someone who would."
"Might I ask how do you know you can trust these… elves?" The blonde elf asked. His voice was mild, but his stance and body language was belligerent.
"I entrusted them with my life, Uncle." Anaru stated, his voice pitched forcefully with annoyance. He stalked forward until he was looming before the blonde mage and his voice lowered menacingly until she could barely hear him, "And I'd gladly do so again in a heartbeat."
The battle-mage opened his mouth to once again refute and Una reached a breaking point. Frankly, Nelaniu had a funny way of showing any concern by arguing at her bedside. This man hadn't cared to so much as write her for most of her life and only now did he feel fit to be worried? Where was he during all the other hardships she'd endured during her life?
"Shut up!" Una barked hoarsely to the pale mage and then cast her gaze to Anaru. Her elder cousin hadn't won any points with her either. She made no attempt to hide her wrath. An ominous tickle in her chest told her that she had pushed herself too far and she started to cough. They gazed at her in alarm, as though suddenly remembering her presence.
"My apologies, Una." Nelaniu said when the coughing eased, his expression softening. His azure eyes held a tinge of regret and something more, "I'm… afraid for you. More afraid than I've been in many years…"
"I understand." The young woman replied faintly, attempting to force herself into her city guard frame of mind. She needed to disassociate herself from what was happening before she hurt herself. The Guard had certain phrases they tended to use whenever they dealt with irate citizens and they were quietly passed on to each successive generation of guards. That phrase, among others, had the tendency to remove most people's ability to argue. She hoped it would work on her uncle.
"Una, I'm sorry…" Anaru said, stepping forward with extended arms as though he wanted to embrace her.
"Don't touch me… right now." Una told him tightly, weakly lifting her left hand as far as it would go to gesture for him to stay away from her. Uncle Eilonel held his hand up as well to back her request, his expression towards his eldest son stern.
Her cousin cast his gaze briefly at the carpeting, his face pained. He sighed and then seemed to draw himself up as he turned his attention back to their Uncle.
"Ashal and Talaerion were both very fair." Anaru said with forced calm. She knew him well enough to know his patience was growing as thin as her own, "I can't see them wishing Una any harm or forcing her to do anything against her will…"
The battle-mage remained silent; he sighed heavily and cast his gaze at the floor after looking at Una once more.
Uncomfortable silence fell across the room, the ticking of her clock aggravatingly loud. Anaru's and Nelaniu's body language were both confrontational and avoidant at once, as though the men were daring each other to words or actions.
"Are there any other apprentices nearby?" Una asked in what she prayed was a hopeful tone of voice after a moment in a deliberate attempt to change the subject.
The young woman had never had much of an opportunity to truly know her grandfather as an adult woman; the man she idolized so much had been unable to take her as an apprentice. When she'd initially asked, Andris had deemed her too young and by the time she had come of age, he already had too many apprentices. Instead, Hiram, a longtime friend and neighbor, had taken her under his wing.
She could distract herself reminiscing with her Grandfather's former apprentices, dwell for a time in the past when life wasn't so daunting. It was something all three men present should know about her.
"Not here, no. Only five of us survived the Third War." Anaru said regretfully with a shake of his head. "Koili Dawnbreak was killed in action last winter and I don't know where Daesin Sutherland is. I have to return to Stormwind soon… That leaves those two."
"Might I suggest discussing this with Ashal first?" Eilonel said a little too eagerly, "It was he and Sergeant Emberblade who brought your brother home… and assisted in Una's rescue." He had been stanch, cheerful at times, but this was the first time her uncle had seemed this enthusiastic in the weeks since she'd arrived.
Anaru also caught the over-eagerness in his father's voice and gazed at the mage for a long moment with a strange expression on his face. He put his hands on his hips and asked slowly, "… And that is code for what, father?"
"That is code for nothing." The magister stated with a dismissive sweep of his hand, "I merely think he would be excellent."
Anaru raised an eyebrow, but didn't inquire further.
"I presume this matter is settled – yes?" Uncle Eilonel spoke mildly as he cast a gaze to her cousin and Uncle Nelaniu in turn, who nodded. His voice abruptly grew in strength, though he managed to remain mild of tone. "Good. I shall not have you upset her further." Without moving from his place next to her, he pointed sharply to the door, his expression abruptly severe. Una remembered the tone of voice well. It was the same tone of voice she heard when they were placed in quarantine.
Anaru and Nelaniu bid their farewells and stepped from the room.
"I am truly sorry, Una." Eilonel sighed and massaged his temples. "They both mean well… but if I had known that was going to happen, I wouldn't have allowed it."
Una nodded her understanding. A dull ache had started in her back and hips, she took deep breaths, but it didn't subside. She braced her left arm against the mattress to change position, but sharp pain in her shoulder warned her against trying.
"Would you please help me? I need to shift… this position is starting to hurt…" She whispered plaintively.
"Of course!" The mage exclaimed, rising to help her move into a more comfortable position upon the mattress.
Once she was comfortable, Eilonel strode across the room and she heard the window sigh open. The warm autumn breeze coming through the window brought wind chimes once again and the sweet sounds of songbirds.
It reminded her of Elwynn. And she had just begged to stay in Quel'thalas, on Horde-controlled soil. No matter how permissible and legal it was, Una still felt like a traitor.
Eilonel returned and sat in the chair Dagan had occupied earlier. He smiled adoringly. He resembled her father too much, it was hard looking at him. If only her father could act like him…
"Is the ring functioning well for you?" The older elf asked suddenly.
It took her a moment to remember the ring that was hidden under the heavy plaster that overlapped her fingers. She vaguely remembered Belestra placing it upon her finger as she was waking up from the anesthesia. "I guess?" Una replied, unsure of what she should be feeling.
"Excellent." Eilonel replied. "It's quite old and we were unsure how well it would attune."
Attune. There was only one ring Una could think of off the top of her head that needed attunement: a Sunwell Ring. She had never worn or needed one, though she knew what they were and of their rarity. They were even rarer after the destruction of the Sunwell. The fact they felt she needed to wear one didn't bode good.
So many things she wanted to know and she couldn't figure out how to form the questions. At last she shook her head and asked a helpless, "Why?"
"You were so ill... Captain Backbreaker thought you might have breathed in fungal spores from Naxxramas." The mage replied, "Forgive me, I don't know specifics. You had three… episodes… with your heart." He patted the space above his own heart demonstratively.
Una nodded, remembering the pain in her chest before they were found and brought to Silvermoon City.
"They thought it might be your arcane addiction and wanted permission to sate it." He sighed and shook his head, "I wanted to leave the choice to you. Thus the ring…"
Una blinked away tears as a fresh wave of emotion came. Her grandfather had been one to stress the importance of personal decisions. In the end, your decisions are what define you. Her idol's words still resonated. It was bittersweet hearing the same words come from her uncle. Her grandfather's letter was lost to the Plaguelands, forever unread. She glared at her parents' letter, lying so benignly on the tray despite the vicious words. There was a cruel irony there.
The young woman looked to her uncle to give him a reassuring smile, a small lie to cover what her face had probably conveyed.
The mage's gaze had fallen upon the enchanted tray, now floating at the foot of the bed. A frown settled upon him and Una knew he was also staring at her parent's letter. He made a deceptively simple beckoning gesture and the tray dutifully floated to him. She fought the urge to hold her breath.
Eilonel's slender fingers picked at the corner of the neatly folded letter; lifting the parchment timidly, as though he expected a viper to spring forth. At last, he unfolded the letter and began to read. The way everyone had seemed to know the message the letter contained, she had assumed he had already read it.
As his face fell and narrow shoulders slumped, she realized how wrong she was.
"Ferran, you fool!" The magister whispered harshly, seeming to grow old before her very eyes. Una felt her heart climb into her throat as she suddenly realized how closely the mage sat to the edge of frailty. His face, so much like her father's that it was heart-breaking, was anguished and exhausted. He leaned backward when he finished and cupped his face in his palm.
After several long moments, he spoke haltingly in a voice barely above that of the whisper she had been forced to speak in, "My beloved brother…" Una couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine. "Has always had a penchant for fables."
"Fables?" She asked questioningly. To her memory, it had been her mother who had always told her stories and read to her as a child. Her father had been deployed somewhere or another for most of her childhood, lending his bow to the ancestral House of Wrynn and later The Grand Alliance. Her grandfather and Hiram had told her more folklore and stories than her own father ever had.
Her Uncle nodded and slumped deeper into the chair with a sigh that seemed to come from his soul, "Fables. For I am not sure what else to call them."
Eilonel rose in a rustle of cloth and started to pace the room, just as Anaru did when he was agitated and becoming lost within his own brooding thoughts. Una gazed at him, too tired to pursue his words. Just so tired. She didn't want to talk about this. She would rather sleep.
"I am truly, truly sorry, Una. I wish that I could shoulder this for you." He said softly. "Suffice to say, you are not at fault. It is difficult to explain. Our family seems determined to erode any sanity left within our bloodline. Ferran himself has always been known to jump to conclusions and concoct the most elaborate… fables around them."
"Uncle… my mother wrote that letter…" Una remarked with a sigh. While she had noticed that peculiarity in her father long before, it didn't explain her mother's role. However, it was comforting to know she hadn't imagined or exaggerated that trait.
"Tyalaria… is indeed another story – that woman has always been an enigma to me." Her Uncle groaned. He closed his eyes and massaged his cheekbones, as though his sinuses were ailing him. When he spoke again, his voice was wistful and sad, "Illoria knew her far better than I. For what my words are worth, your mother always seemed to be… buried beneath her insecurities."
Una nodded and sighed, "But why disown me for just… being here?"
Eilonel sank into the chair at her side, "That, my dear, is a long story and best told when one can lose one's sobriety shortly after."
The way he said that final, conclusive statement, she knew he didn't wish to continue the conversation further. It suited her; she wasn't sure she wanted to know at this point.
"Is Walen okay?" The last time she had seen her younger cousin was at dinner. She hadn't heard so much as a word from him or about him.
"My dear niece, we seem determined to converse about the most unpleasant, stressful topics." His thin lips flexed and he smiled ironically, "Physically? He seems to be doing quite well." Una leveled her gaze at him. Her Uncle sighed deeply, "His heart and mind? Not well at all." He paused and rubbed the bridge of his nose, "My apologies, I don't wish to upset you further…"
"No, it's okay." Una could relate very well to that statement. "What was he doing in Outland in the first place?" The paladin asked, unable to hold the question back any longer. From what she had heard, Outland was a broken, hellish world struggling against the onslaught of the Burning Legion.
"I was told he was to be an apprentice to Master Daellis Dawnstrike." The magister gave her a helpless shrug. Guilt rose in nearly palpable waves from his body as his voice lowered, "I only wanted to give him the same opportunity Anaru had…" He paused momentarily and then continued, "Commander Orlinde informed me he had been assigned as a bodyguard to a former colleague of mine and stationed at an entirely different location."
Una raised an eyebrow, "What did they tell Walen?"
Eilonel sighed, "He hasn't spoken of…" His voice faltered and he took a deep breath before continuing, "My son isn't ready to speak of it. Something horrible happened, of that much I am sure."
"Do you want me to try talking with him?" Una asked.
"No, Una. When he is ready, he will come to one of us." Her uncle then fell silent, his emerald eyes haunted. She had no doubt there were a million things he was leaving unsaid, though whether it was for her benefit or his she couldn't tell.
She yawned and a tired shiver ran through her muscles. The mage startled as the muscle spasm ran its course, his expression briefly alarmed. He sighed in relief and laid a hand upon her leg.
Una was almost asleep when something occurred to her: Why did her Uncle recommend one former apprentice over the other? The elder had taken to brooding, his gaze absently fixed on a random spot on the wall. One forefinger was absently stroking his cleanly shaven upper lip.
"What did you mean?" She asked drowsily.
"Regarding…?" He prompted guardedly, raising an eyebrow and gesturing with his fingers for her to continue.
"Grandfather's apprentices…"
"Ah! Of the two, Ashal is closest to your age and I believe you share more in common." Her uncle answered readily with a kind smile. "Familiarity breeds compassion."
"Is it bad when my brain immediately inserts the word contempt?" Una chuckled wryly.
"No, my dear." Eilonel's chuckle was as dry as her own. "After those conversations, not at all."

Ashal Orlinde reclined in his high backed chair, settling deeper into the plush velvet upholstery, his eyes fixed upon the door. The elegantly appointed décor was intimate, dark, and quiet. Periodically came the clink of glass and china as the innkeeper and cook idly cleaned the already immaculate bar. The chandelier of gilt chain and vivid azure gems gave off a muted glow above their heads and played intriguing patterns of light and shadow upon the highly polished granite upon the walls.
Runean Emberblade numbly studied the steaming cup of tea before him as though the gilt china could offer him the respite he needed. Or perhaps his sleep-deprived mind simply couldn't figure out what he was supposed to do with the beverage. Assigned as the personal physician of the Whitebrook house and their guests, he had been on-duty for weeks on end; held as a veritable prisoner on the estate by the recently lifted quarantine.
The blond paladin should be out enjoying his first day off since that horrible night in October; not staring at a damned cup of tea as they waited on Anaru Whitebrook.
Anaru was very late. Ash sighed and shook his head yet again. He yearned for a stiff drink, though at this hour, he had to feign at least some level of decorum. He took another sip of his lemonade, pursing his lips in annoyance at the flavor. It wasn't what he wanted, but it would have to do.
That seemed to be his standard as of late. Nothing was ever exactly what he wanted, but whether it was food, drink, companionship, or employment – it always would have to do. He had sworn to never return to a point of settling for the minimum. Yet the universe was determined to reduce him to the lower common denominator yet again. As such, he was finding his way to the bottom of a glass or bottle more and more frequently again. If something didn't change and soon, he'd lose himself to his old ways… abandon all his hard-fought victories and become a miserable shell of himself.
It was the only reason he was entertaining this meeting. Anaru Whitebrook, his former mentor's grandson, had requested this gathering within an official-looking missive from the Argent Dawn. It was intriguing that he would approach them in such a manner, rather than any other way.
Rune moved languidly to brush a hand over his face, as though a fine hair was bothering him. From their conversation this morning, it was trivial for Ash to deduce Rune's motivations to be here.
Rune covered it well, but Ash knew he was livid over the quarantine. It had been entirely unnecessary. The samples taken from Captain Backbreaker and his men had been exhaustively analyzed by the Royal Apothecary Society. The strains had been non-contagious. The Scourge had engineered the plagues to be all but impossible to purge from their intended victims; but in exchange the diseases had lost their ability to transmit via conventional means… something Rune and the other healers had sensed.
The Horde's agonizingly slow reaction to the Lich King's brazen attack also weighed heavily upon Rune's mind. Rune's father, a cleric of the Holy Light, had traveled to Northrend with Arthas Menethil, never to return. The blond healer held no illusions of his father's survival and no fantasies of finding him somewhere amid the frigid arctic. No, he wanted revenge on the mad prince who had stolen his father's life.
At this time of day, The Wayfarer's Rest was mostly deserted, beyond Rune and himself, there was only a few of locals enjoying a light meal and conversation together. Anaru could not enter or leave unseen.
Time passed as though at a crawl. The locals finished their meal and made their way through the tavern to the bright, sunlit streets beyond.
At last, Anaru arrived, looking as though he were infiltrating an enemy encampment than striding into a local tavern.
"Hello, Ash; Rune." Anaru greeted, touching the tips of his fingers to his forehead in salute.
"Hello, Anaru." Ash replied with a nod of the head. "Good to see you."
Rune frostily nodded his greeting.
Anaru and the blond paladin had generally been on friendly terms. Ash could only conclude that something had happened at the Whitebrook estate to raise the healer's ire. Rune didn't seethe like this over normal, trivial matters, he exploded in a brief fury and the issue that sparked it was soon forgotten.
Ash was the opposite and so was Anaru. They had always walked a narrow line, at times the best of friends and the worst of enemies. Anaru and he had spent the better part of their youth at each other's throats, only to eventually become apprentices to the same master – Anaru's very own grandfather. They made a good team when their personalities didn't clash.
"Likewise." Anaru said, taking a seat at their table. Whitebrook looked as exhausted as Rune, his features pinched and his expression haggard. It was to be expected with what happened to his younger brother and cousin. It was a relief to know he had made the right choice for Walen. As much dislike as he harbored for the Alliance, it had been impossible not to feel as much pity for the woman as he had for Walen. Though from what Rune had told him, both were expected to make a full recovery.
Anaru's gaze fell to the table, studying the place setting before him. Ash glanced at Rune and a silent communication went between them. It was behavior both recognized. Whitebrook had the habit of brooding, even for a minute, as he collected his thoughts and fought to find the right thing to say. Anaru had learned from all the times his mouth and often-misplaced sense of justice had brought him to blows with those around him.
"So what is this about?" Ashal asked directly, unwilling to grant him the time he customarily took.
"I need you." Anaru blurted hoarsely, the words falling heavily from his lips. "Both of you."
Unsurprised, Ash raised an eyebrow at his former companion and gestured, "Go on."
Anaru sighed in frustration, struggling with his words as he always did when emotionally overwhelmed, "Tirion Fordring assumed leadership of the Argent Dawn following the Battle of Light's Hope. He's united the Argent Dawn and the remaining Knights of the Silver Hand. There's been a mass defection from the Scarlet Crusade..."
"Fascinating." Ash mused, leaning forward to steeple his fingers.
Tirion Fordring had been convicted as a traitor to crown and country for fraternizing with an orc. Now the paladin had returned, not as a reclusive hermit but a military leader. Ash had known him, of course, before his trial and banishment. Fordring would be a force to be reckoned with if he could raise an army. Not only that, but one of the major thorns in the side of both Quel'thalas and the Undercity had already joined under Fordring's banner. Fascinating news, indeed.
"Additionally, a considerable number of Death Knights also broke free from the Lich King's control… they've pledged themselves to the war effect." Anaru continued.
"I see." Ash raised his eyebrows. From the sounds of it, Fordring was well on his way to raising that army then. "Then it's a case of: The enemy of my enemy is my friend?"
"Can you see why I need you?" Anaru asked quietly.
"So he's seeking all of the former Knights, I presume?" Rune asked, outwardly placid though his eyes were half-lidded.
Once again, Ashal was unsurprised. Back at the time of Tirion's conviction, Rune had been a priest; and, though he had filled an integral support role he had been deemed unfit for knighthood due to his physique. Also he – like many of Silvermoon – blamed Lord Uther and the Knights of the Silver Hand for Arthas' betrayal and the subsequent destruction of Quel'thalas.
"Yes and no…" Anaru said faintly. "I need you… I need men I can trust at my side. I've already received word I have no less than three former Scarlets already assigned to my regiment. I need another lieutenant and a medical officer… and I'd rather have you at my side. Plus, Una…" He paused momentarily, "Una's… spending the winter in Silvermoon. I need a bodyguard and a trainer for her." He looked up at them, his gaze pleading.
"What of Una? Can she not fill the role?" Rune asked. He gently pushed the now cold cup of tea way from him and then rested his hands, his pale fingers laced, upon the table.
The brown haired paladin shook his head, "Una wasn't awarded a rank; and, the attack that crippled her happened before her title could be discussed. Presently, she's recognized as an adherent of the Argent Dawn." Anaru sighed and gave them an expressive shrug, "With the restructuring, she may remain a Private for the time being."
"I see." Rune said quietly, his gaze narrowing further. He crossed his arms over his chest, his face stormy.
Ashal narrowed his own eyes and asked quietly, "Considering how we parted ways, brother, why should I – we – accept?" The word "brother" came out a growl.
Anaru had always worn his anger like a noble wore fine cloth and jewels; an abiding, generic rage hidden behind a artfully crafted façade. It had only escalated after the deaths of his mother and grandfather. Seeing him like this, practically at the edge of groveling, however satisfying, was merely another mask as far as Ash was concerned.
"Highlord Fordring is prepared to offer you your current rank and the appropriate compensation…" Anaru said at last.
Ash suppressed an intake of breath and from the way Rune looked up suddenly, his interest was piqued as well.
"Supposing we accept… I presume there is a catch?" Rune said cautiously, his voice gaining volume for the first time.
"There is no catch." Anaru said with a sigh. "And we won't deploy until Spring."
"Very well." Ash said, "I'm yours."

Seven weeks went by, each week bringing a small improvement. Little by little, she was able to stay awake longer, do more for herself, and a blessed sense of normalcy returned. Whenever she thought about it, she marveled that just under two months had passed since she had been brought to Silvermoon City more dead than alive. It all seemed like an absurd nightmare now; save for the scars that marred her body and the lack of stamina that still plagued her. The healers had allowed the scars to remain as a reminder of close Una had come to losing her life.
A little over four weeks ago, Garrack Backbreaker and his men had returned to their families to recover. Maggie had directed Una in some practical mana exercises to begin rebuilding her strength by healing herself.
It had been extremely difficult saying goodbye to her friends. She knew she should be happy for them, they were returning home to recover with their families, but it still felt like she had lost them. With war looming, they could easily die in battle with the Alliance or Scourge before she saw any of them again.
Her Uncle had returned to Dalaran later the same day to get some work done before he returned to celebrate Winterveil.
It had been a little lonely and decidedly quiet after that.
She had the company of her Uncle's servants, of course. Walen, still recovering from his own brush with death, had sequestered himself in his quarters. Her youngest cousin, Kaleril, was still at the academy until closer to the Winterveil holiday. Instead, Esmea had been Una's near constant companion over the preceding weeks. Una had started looking forward to the red haired woman's visits, missing her fiercely whenever she had to return to duty. Fortunately, Dagan had left her a generous supply of novels and she started voraciously reading them.
All that had changed just this morning, when the priestess, Belestra, had removed her casts and deactivated the final arcane pins holding her left shoulder in place. The pins would vanish in a few hours like all conjured things tended to do as the arcane energy naturally deteriorated. Her left arm would remain in a sling for several more weeks and she still had months to go in her recovery, but at least she could enjoy the Winterveil season.
"Can I take it off now?" Una asked Emmie, rubbing her gloved right hand over the mauve silk scarf that blocked her sight.
Emmie had arrived right after Belestra had departed to whisk her off to a surprise she had planned. Una wasn't sure what to expect. Part of her wondered if she'd find herself in a brothel, trying on risqué clothes and lingerie, or dining on foods with suggestively themed names. However, Emmie had done very little of that since she'd been up here.
"Soon!" Emmie replied cheerfully. The cart's bench seat lurched slightly, the sound of the wheels changed, and the road seemed much smoother. The wintry air that chilled her exposed face and seeped through her clothes and the warm cloak she wore grew distinctly warmer.
"Emmie, you've been saying that for the last twenty minutes!" The brown haired woman exclaimed as she braced herself in case the cart lurched again, "Will you at least give me a hint?"
"I have not!" The Sin'dorei woman retorted, "It's only been fifteen. And it wouldn't be a surprise anymore if I told you!"
"Fine! Be that way!" Una exclaimed in jest, sticking her tongue out at her friend who laughed merrily.
Una dropped her hands in her lap as the path seemed to even out further. She fidgeted with her ring through her glove, or rather, ran her fingers around the golden band. The young Quel'dorei woman couldn't move it or even so much as twist it.
Forcing herself to stop fidgeting, Una couldn't help but feel slightly anxious about starting her rehabilitation and the looming holiday. There was no way she'd be ready to go to Northrend by Spring, but she'd be left behind yet again if she wasn't.
Sergeant Emberblade and Commander Orlinde, the elf who was to be her bodyguard, had left a week ago to undergo the Trials of the Argent Crusade. Esmea had told her Anaru had enlisted them to be both officers under him as well as her trainers. They were supposed to return any day now; possibly even today, if the pass was clear.
She bit her lip and then asked, "Have you heard anything from them?" She didn't have to tell Esmea who she was inquiring about.
"Not yet, but the Farstriders report was favorable." Esmea replied.
"How much snow have they gotten?" Una asked, curious. The days had been cold lately and this brisk morning was no exception.
The young elf woman hadn't realized they didn't get snow in Quel'thalas. She had awkwardly bounded from bed to the window for several mornings in a row before one of the servants had informed her. She had known the country was sheltered by ancient runestones that maintained a state of perpetual autumn, but had assumed they could at least get a dusting of snow. The temperature could certainly vary quite a bit, they had told her, but never to the point where snow could fall. Beyond the bounds of those enchantments; however, winter would be in full effect.
Una was jostled as Emmie took the cart around a surprisingly tight corner. Curiosity got the better of her and she carefully slid the blindfold up to peek. Silvermoon City's white, gold and crimson streets met her eyes; all brightly decorated for Winterveil.
"No peeking! We're almost there!" Emmie's hand patted Una's right hand gently as an admonishment and the brown haired woman obediently returned the blindfold to its position over her eyes. "They've already had several blizzards. Though I don't believe that will delay their return."
Their hawkstrider gave an indignant squawk as Emmie pulled the cart to a halt. "And we have arrived!" The Blood Knight announced cheerfully.
Emmie helped her down and turned cart and hawkstrider over to a stable hand. Holding onto Emmie's arm, the taller elf guided her a short distance and Una heard a door open. Voices, and the smell of a fireplace met her as they entered the building.
A male voice chuckled. Una knitted her eyebrows together as her friend helped her out of her cloak and to sit.
"So she doesn't know where she is." The red haired elf said jovially in what sounded like an explanation.
"I wouldn't know where I was even without the blindfold!" Una protested. She heard a snicker.
"Oh, relax!" Esmea said in jest, "You will like this!"
"Kaleril, I swear I'll laugh if you fall!" A man commented.
"Helios! Shh!" Emmie hissed. There was a long pause, punctuated by more snickers. She deliberately untied the blindfold, taking her time undoing the simple knot.
"Surprise!" Emmie proclaimed and the blindfold was gone.
As applause rose around her, Una gazed around the small, quaintly decorated café and the casually dressed blood elves gathered around her table. Kaleril, still shorter than the adults, had climbed atop a nearby table to see. Walen sat to her right, blinking in surprise the same way she was. She glanced up as the elf who had brought Walen stepped around the table, the way the blond moved she guessed he was a ranger.
A cheesecake sat on the table before them, elegantly topped with chocolate adeptly shaped into an elegant, multi-pointed star… the symbol of the Argent Dawn.
Una felt a blush creep across her face and up to the tips of her ears as the applause only intensified. Many of the knights had appeared at her bedside while she was fighting for her life, others were Farstriders who had served beside Aunt Illoria before her death.
A bottle of red wine was uncorked and glasses passed out to those around the room.
"A toast!" The blond male cried to Esmea, thrusting his glass high into the air and the others raised their glasses as well, chanting the same. Kaleril, who had climbed down and made his way over to sit beside her, let out a loud whistle of agreement that would have made his father and brother proud.
"A toast to our sister!" Emmie shouted above them, "Just seven weeks ago, she was brought to us all but a corpse. Today, she sits before us hale and whole!"
"The Scourge believed her band an easy mark!" Emmie said loudly, "But they soon learned their folly as they will when we march upon Icecrown Citadel! The Scourge shall not triumph! We shall not falter!"
Raucous cheers went up, Una cheering with them.
Their meal was served. Una happily dug into a bowl of warm, meaty chili all the while eyeing the cheesecake.
As their meal ended, Emmie got up to speak to someone and the blond ranger Emmie had called Helios made his way around the table and knelt beside her chair. She remembered him, vaguely. Her aunt had taken her to meet her fellow rangers back when she was young.
"Una Whitebrook, all grown up. The last time we met, you were a little girl." Helios smiled as he took her hand, "You are absolutely stunning." He brushed his lips against the back of her hand.
Flattered, Una giggled and blushed like she was a girl again.
"We should meet sometime… reminisce." He said in a purr, drawing a forefinger down the side of her hand, eliciting a shiver from the young woman.
"I'd be honored." Una replied coyly.
"And we are honored to have such an inspiring woman in our midst." The ranger said charmingly.
"Smooth, Helios." Another ranger a nearby table said loudly and with a laugh. A whistled catcall echoed the sentiment. Kaleril was smirking.
The waiter appeared with a knife and began to slice the cake. The blond winked suggestively as she was presented the first slice and returned to his seat.
Una took a bite and shut her eyes in ecstasy. It was delicious.
"So how's life at the academy? They must keep you locked up pretty tight…" Una asked Kaleril as he was served his slice. She hadn't seen her youngest cousin the entire time she had been here. He frequently wrote, but it wasn't quite the same. His letters had been much the same as what Anaru and she had shared during their youth, mostly small talk along with random anecdotes from their daily lives. It hadn't been until they reached adulthood that their letters had gained substance.
"Well enough, I suppose." The youth replied. He grimaced and looking nervously at her, Una wondered if he'd be amused if she told him he looked like a miniature Anaru. He had the face of a Whitebrook, his brown hair pulled back in a short, low ponytail and freckles scattered his cheeks and nose. However, he was slighter than his brothers though not as slight as his father. Sleek and lithe were the more appropriate words, where his brothers were solid and muscular.
Kaleril grated the tines of his fork against his slice of cake, gathering his thoughts. At last he spoke, his voice hesitant, intently studying her face. "… I decided… being a paladin isn't for me."
"Oh." Una replied, somewhat surprised. It seemed like becoming a Blood Knight was the fast track to the upper castes here while a Farstrider seemed the opposite. "Suppose that does put you back to square one with your classes. So what prompted this?"
"I think I'm more suited to life as a ranger." Kaleril answered hesitantly once more, as though frightened of gaining her disapproval. "Like mother…"
"I really hope this wasn't provoked by what happened to Walen and I." Una said hesitantly herself. She hadn't liked him last time she had seen him; he had seemed like a shallow, spoiled brat. This Kaleril sitting across from her was surprisingly sensitive and a little insecure. She could see how perhaps he'd found their injuries disturbing enough to walk away from his paladin training.
Kaleril looked alarmed, "No! It's not that." Like Anaru, he was taking his time thinking about what he would say, choosing his words. At last, he sighed, "I'm a terrible paladin… I – I felt strong at first, but then I just… couldn't keep up."
"There's no sin in that… I have no aptitude for ranger skills." Una replied with a knowing smile. "Don't ever ask me to shoot; I think the farthest I ever managed to make an arrow fly was maybe four feet…"
Kaleril laughed, seemingly put at ease.
"You're still young and it's never too late to change." Una told him. "You're allowed that much. Let me know if I can help you with anything."
"Don't tell father?" He asked, looking up at her like a scolded puppy.
"Honestly, little brother," Una startled and gazed at Walen in surprise as he spoke, "I don't think father would mind." The look on Kaleril's face said much the same as she was thinking. Seven weeks with barely a word and Walen had suddenly uttered a full sentence.
"Just… let me tell him?" The youngest Whitebrook brother persisted.
"I won't breathe a word." Una replied, drawing a finger across her lips.
"I won't either." Emmie declared in good humor as she sat back down, "Not sure what I'm vowing not to tell him, but you have my word."
Una looked to her younger cousins, "We're going to the baths after this, would you like to join us?"
"No, thank you. I should return to the academy." Kaleril responded. "I have a mountain of work…" The young elf's voice trailed off. "Eh, never mind. I'll join you."
"I'll go." Walen said simply.
The party soon started winding down. Una found herself the recipient of friendly kisses and hugs as the guests made their way to leave. She couldn't quite see why Uncle Nelaniu had been so concerned. She had been embraced here and it felt wonderful.
When they left, Silvermoon glittered with holiday decorations, enchanted lights sparkling all the way up to the tallest spires. Emmie had decided walking would be good exercise for Una and Walen. Soon, her heavy cloak started to feel too warm as her body warmed from the exertion. Her breath was visible as she panted; the temperature hadn't changed much since they'd arrived.
The baths proved to be only a few blocks away. From the ornate golden gate decorated with a phoenix and the guards in the full black and red Blood Knight livery, Una had a hunch this wasn't a public bath. Both snapped to attention and issued Emmie a crisp salute as they opened the gates.
Normally, one disrobed outside a Quel'dorei bathhouse; however, Emmie led them inside to a dressing area. Una felt her pulse quicken as she caught a glimpse of her scars in a mirror as she removed her shirt. The scar on her left side and breast was huge and twisting. Her ribs, collarbone, and the bones of her back were clearly visible in places where she hadn't been able to see them before. She'd seen it all before in her room, but in the bright light of the baths it was clearly and painfully obvious.
Emmie and Kaleril were watching her, their faces concerned. Walen's gaze was downcast; he would periodically rub the short hairs that had regrown over the preceding weeks. Without a word, he walked into the baths alone.
Emmie offered Una her arm and led her inside. She felt a blush cross her cheeks as eyes fell across the nude forms of the bathers.
Elves of both genders bathed and gossiped under the showers. The warm, moist air was almost too warm. Una's eyes traced the very male forms in both appreciation and embarrassment. She startled slightly as her gaze fell upon a red haired male and her gaze traced down his muscular to the very black curls. Una chided herself mentally for staring, but couldn't resist looking again.
A loud bang startled her. Kaleril cursed and ran to help his brother, who was attempting to haul a wooden bathing stool into the room. She could hear them talking, almost quarreling, though not quite what they said. The red haired man stepped over to take the stool from the young men. Kaleril pointed to her.
Her blush deepened as she inadvertently met the man's gaze as he deposited the stool. Walen and Kaleril chose to bathe a little bit down the line. She could hear the brothers talking quietly.
Squeezing her rebellious eyes shut, Una muttered her thanks and turned to investigate the shower controls. Moments later, deliciously warm water poured down upon her.
While Maggie, Basya, Rune, and her uncle's servants assisted her in cleansing herself, she couldn't remember the last time she had actually bathed. Probably before she left Stormwind on her ill-fated journey north. There was bathing and then there was bathing in a place that never ran out of hot water and had every possible soap imaginable.
"I'm… I must confess I'm surprised." Esmea stated, her nervous humor and bemused disbelief evident in her voice. "This isn't the behavior I was expecting from you after your reaction to…" Emmie paused and glanced around them with an evaluating gaze. She sighed and chose not to complete her sentence; they both knew who she was referring to. "Instead you're taking this more or less in stride."
"I wasn't the only high elf in Stormwind, you know." Una muttered, tipping her face into the falling water. Of course, they didn't have communal baths in Stormwind. That would have been far too controversial to be allowed to happen. However, Una wasn't ignorant of her people's ways.
"I am aware." Emmie replied, "But I couldn't be sure either. That is why I brought you to the barrack's bath house."
Una nodded and turned to begin working the water through her hair. Her right leg wobbled, setting her off-balance momentarily.
Emmie's hand shot out to steady her, "Sit down! Please!"
"I'm fine!" Una protested, "It's just a little weakness. I lost muscle tone in that leg."
The Blood Knight sighed and pressed her fingertips to her brow, "If you insist. I worry enough without assistance!"
"You shouldn't, it isn't good for you." Una said, examining the bottles of soap provided. This was going to be the hard part. She had no idea what each bottle was for and her choices were overwhelming.
"Sit." Emmie repeated, this time in a more cheerful tone, seeming to have calmed down. "And I'll wash your hair."
Una obeyed, sitting upon the bathing stool. Washing each other's hair was a custom among her people, especially friends and family. Emmie selected one of the bottles and began to lather her hair. It was herbal with a hint of lemon, almost smelling astringent while not being unpleasant.
"We use this after we battle the Scourge," She told her quietly. Una nodded her understanding. "It cuts any grease and filth we might get on ourselves. It also removes other impurities from our hair."
Una gave another faint nod, enjoying the sensation of Emmie's strong fingers massaging the shampoo into her hair. Suddenly, Esmea stopped and patted her shoulder to get her attention.
Una looked up as two male Sin'dorei entered the baths, one a strawberry blond with well-defined muscles and the other even more solidly built and black haired. She felt her cheeks warm as she found her gaze once again dipping too low and averted her eyes back to the men's faces. She gasped as she realized the blond was Sergeant Emberblade. The black haired elf could be none other than Commander Orlinde. They paused to salute both of them, and the two elfin women returned it.
"It's so good to see you!" Una exclaimed, rising to embrace the healer. He looked tired and cold, but still the cheerful Sin'dorei she had met all those weeks ago. Red-blond stubble covered his jaw and he smelled of sweat and the road.
Rune patted her back with a cold hand and with a shiver said, "Likewise. Glad to see you up and about." He turned to gesture to the black haired Sin'dorei, "Una, might I introduce Commander Ashal Orlinde?"
"Lady." Commander Orlinde bowed his head briefly in greeting, touching his fingers to his forehead in salute. He too looked fatigued and ready for the hot shower they had come for. His face was slightly more bearded, as though he were deliberately attempting to grow it out.
Rune gestured to her, "Ashal, I present Lady Una Whitebrook."
"Private Una Whitebrook." Una corrected as she snapped to salute. She needed him to think of her as a soldier first and foremost. She wanted him to know she would follow his orders. He was her only hope of rejoining her team and not being left behind yet again while those she loved fought and died on the front lines.
He returned her salute. A small smile spread across his tired face as he stepped around them to turn on the shower beside Emmie's.
Una busied herself rinsing the soap from her hair to spare herself from her awkwardness. She had just been introduced to her commanding officer completely nude and covered in soap. It was a silly thought; a very human thought. It wasn't out of the ordinary in High Elven culture. Far more important matters had been discussed in Quel'dorei bathhouses throughout her people's history. However, while she might not have been the only elf in Stormwind City and knew her people's culture, she couldn't help but feel a little mortified.
"How were the roads?" Emmie asked, gesturing for Una to sit. Una obeyed and the red haired woman began working a creamy lotion through her hair.
"Dreadful." Orlinde replied, his deep voice sounding almost bored as he began selecting his soaps. "Seems Northrend came to us for the Winter: Thick with Scourge and ass deep in snow."
"A taste of things to come, to be sure." Rune agreed tiredly.

Author's Note: I'd like to thank pacificuser, Rooietroll, KooriRoninHeart, and Seleya Soulfire for your wonderful reviews!
- 12
- 13
- 14
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Both Sides Now