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The Bearheart Chronicles: A Druid's Tale	By : MelanaAdara Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 2186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft and I am making no money from this story. Only my original characters are mine.

Chapter List
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4 Arrentai
My head was so messed up, I was dizzy, nauseous, still feeling as though I needed to throw up even though my stomach was long empty. I scarcely knew what was happening, vaguely aware of Gillaen and someone else helping me to walk… In my room, Gillaen helping me undress, handing me the chamber pot so I could piss… Laying down, wanting the room to stop spinning round me… Gradually sinking into a state that was neither awake nor asleep… In my mind I saw Lizabetha, smiling, coming to my side, touching me, her gentle caresses both soothing and arousing me… Then voices, raised, waking me from my stupor. I opened my eyes and saw the face of the person beside me, not Lizabetha but a bearded blue haired kaldorei. What the hell was happening? What was he doing, touching me like that? In a panic I struck out at him, my claws catching him across the face as he tumbled backwards.
I jerked awake, shaking. My dream, nightmare, had seemed so real. I swung my legs off the bed and sat up resting my head in my hands as I tried to control the tremors. Lizabetha was still asleep and I didn’t want to disturb her. I couldn’t sleep again. Every time I relived what had happened. There were no gaps in my memory when I dreamed, I remembered everything. The only way I could sleep without remembering was for Fiona to cast a sleep spell on me. And I’d give anything to forget.
I wanted my life back to normal. I wanted to hold my wife, to kiss her, to make love to her, to feel her touch me without it sending me into a blind panic. I wanted to be able to shapeshift, to be a cat, a bear, a bird, a man. I had long since accepted that I was a worgen, but part of that acceptance rested in the ability to change to my preferred form. Without that ability I felt incomplete; and now, with all that had happened, my confidence had taken a severe battering.
Behind me I became aware of Lizabetha stirring. In the past she would have reached out to touch me, maybe to initiate lovemaking, maybe just wanting to be held. But now she held back. I could sense her anxiety, her concern that an unexpected touch would freak me out again. I hated feeling like this, missed our old intimacy, but I was finding it so hard to get over what had happened. No matter how much I told myself that I was safe, that no one was going to hurt me, I just couldn’t put it behind me. In my head I knew this, but my body, my emotions wouldn’t accept such rationality and they won every time.
“Arrentai?”
I turned to look at her, saw the concern in her brown eyes.
“I’m sorry if I woke you,” I said.
“No, you didn’t. It’s difficult to find a comfortable position to sleep with the baby pushing against everything. I … oh!”
Her face drained of its colour as she rolled onto her side and began to push herself into a seated position.
“What’s wrong?” I asked. “Nausea again?” she nodded.
“Wait.”
“Not a good idea,” she muttered. “Arrentai, I’m going to throw up and I’d rather it wasn’t in here.”
“I can help.”
I reached out my hand to rest it on her belly, channeling the healing magic to ease her discomfort. Gradually she relaxed and leant back against the pillows that I piled behind her.
“Shouldn’t you be over that by now?” I asked uncertainly.
“I should, but with every one of my babies I was sick the whole time. I don’t expect this to be any different.”
“Then let me help. Tell me when you feel unwell and I’ll ease it. I can do that at least.
“If only it were that easy to solve my problems.”
“Is there no one who could help? A shadow priest, maybe?”
“Wipe the memories from my mind? That’s one solution, but it’s not ideal. Besides the memories wouldn’t be gone, just locked away so I don’t recall them. They could still come back. No. I need to work through my feelings, accept what has happened and get past it. It’s not easy, but I have to do it.
“I’m a healer. I need to be able to handle trauma like that or I can’t work effectively. No, I need to find another way to resolve this.”
Reluctantly I stood up and began to dress. Gillaen had told me the previous night that he needed to go to Gorgrond, a request from the druids there, and he expected to be gone all day. That put me in command of the garrison. Although I didn’t expect to be doing much, Thorn always kept things going efficiently. Still, I needed to be available just in case.
We passed a quiet day. Lizabetha spent some time with Fiona in the herb garden, learning about the new herbs that grew here and what they could be used for. I took the opportunity to talk to our architect Baros Alexston about the possibility of building a small workshop for Lizabetha for her alchemy. He was sure he could find a space somewhere so long as she was happy with it being small. Considering that back in Darnassus she had to work in a corner of our kitchen she was more than happy.
Gillaen arrived back late that night, accompanied by a massive wheeled chest that was dropped off in the middle of the garrison by a rylak. He went to talk to the druids who lived in the cave at the side of the garrison and came back grumbling because they hadn’t said what they intended to do with it.
“I can do without that eyesore getting in the way,” was his last complaint as we headed to bed. He should have known better than to tempt fate.
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The Bearheart Chronicles: A Druid's Tale