Author's Note: This story is purely the result of a curious mind. I enjoy learning of the relationships between the dragonflights and the mortal races. I enjoy allowing my imagination to freely explore possibilities. Thus, this is an exploration of one of those possibilities.
"Of course he was serious, he's the boss..." She would mutter to herself with frustration, plucking at the ties of her satchel one last time. Asregosa shifted her gaze up to the towering gates of Quel'Thalas' capital, Silvermoon City. With a frown and one last mutter of dislike, she strode towards the arches, refusing to meet the guards' eyes as she marched past them. The alluring feeling of magic surrounding her was the only comfort she had, and even that was still keeping her on her toes. A thick taint was woven through the tendrils of arcane that hung in the air, and the blue dragon wrinkled her petite nose in disgust. She swept a stray bang from in front of her light emerald eyes, tucking it awkwardly behind her long elven ear. She glanced around the large marketplace, slowly accepting the fact that she would be residing here for the time being. Though she silently admired the magnificent architecture the elves used, she was still rather furious at their physical beings. She caught sight of her elven self in the reflection of a polished lone shield nearby, and sighed in distaste at what she saw.
Long, silvery blonde hair was twisted up into a sturdy bun, thin and elegant eyebrows furrowed in a frown. Her frame was petite and small, typical of a blood elf, and her pale skin was mostly concealed by a robe of her own craftsmanship. Thin spindly fingers clasped a number of books to her chest, and furious, slightly green eyes gazed back at her.
"I do this only for you, Malgyos," Asregosa muttered to herself. "Never again will I ever..." With a huff, she stormed off, quite a number of residents staring after her in confusion.
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After a little bit more of a tantrum, Asregosa was now resting in the room she purchased with the modest amount of gold she had. Blank parchment was strewn across her bed, and a quill lay posed within her fingers, unmoving. She bit her lip, before scrawling a few notes hastily across the delicate material. Her writings paused as the unmistakeable shrieks of pleasure resounded through the walls of her room, and she rolled her eyes. As warned by her brethren, elves were notorious for their enjoyment of intimacy. They didn't stop, however, and this plucked at Asregosa's nerves. Exhaling sharply, she dropped her quill and slid off the bed, dusting herself off. She clicked open the door (the noises still hadn't ceased), and with as much force as she could mortally muster, slammed it shut with a bang that echoed throughout the whole inn, rattling the windows. Her lip twitched as the lovers fell silent, and she traipsed down the twirling stairwell, quietly enjoying her small success. The innkeeper frowned at the disguised dragon, clearly annoyed by the potential damage, and a pair of paladins standing at the doorway stared at her incredulously.
"Feh..." She muttered as she passed them, stepping out into the sun-kissed city. Shielding her eyes momentarily, Asregosa glanced around hastily for an alcohol-bearing structure. Far too distracted by her desire for a mortal's beverage, she failed to notice the faint footsteps of another trailing her.
Asregosa irritably brushed the silken curtain from her face as she stepped through the doorway of the bar, and wrinkled her nose as the pungent scent of mana and burning Bloodthistle engulfed her. The rubbish mortals get off on these days... She thought dryly to herself as she slid into an empty barstool. She called for the waiter, a rather young and blonde male who appeared to be coaxing an address from another female customer. Asregosa's jaw set rather firmly as he grinned at her, wandering over lazily, his gaze passing over her body.
"And what may the lady be after this evening?" He asked with a sickeningly sweet voice. She stared hardly up at him from above her spectacles (a recent invention and gift from her dear friend), and dropped a couple gold on the surface before her.
"Mead, please. Pure, I trust you won't slip anything extra in there," Asregosa muttered sharply. Her chin rested in the palm of her hand, her gaze unfocused towards the array of beverages lining the walls behind the bar. Soon enough, a rather hefty mug of mead was slid into her vision, and she nodded curtly, curling her fingers around the handle and sipping at it.
"Haven't seen you around here before," A low voice murmured beside her. Asregosa rolled her eyes and straightened up, turning around to meet the gaze of her companion. Not at all surprised, a dark haired male was slung casually over his chair, his darkened green orbs locked onto hers, a sly smirk twitching at his lips.
"That would be because I-" She stopped herself, biting her lip. You are undercover, Asre, don't blow it!
"I'm rarely in bars," She lied. Azerothian bars were by far her preferred hideout from the rest of the world. Her reclusive nature and aversion to battle made them so. The male elf quirked his eyebrow curiously.
"Then what brings you to a bar now?" He asked, leaning in uncomfortably close as he did so. She leaned away from him, lightly tapping her spectacles back along the bridge of her nose.
"I'm rather peeved off at someone," Asregosa replied shortly. Namely, Malgyos, you twisted, sarcastic, mean... Her thoughts trailed off as the elf let forth a bark of laughter.
"And wasting away in a bar is certainly no way about gaining revenge," He said. Asregosa drew in a long, steady breath, and exhaled just as slowly.
"Lecturing me about making my own choices is no way about gaining my respect," She sneered, throwing her blonde head back as she downed a rather large gulp of mead. The irritating male continued to smirk at her.
"Now what makes you think I'm after your respect?" He asked with an air of false innocence. "Warlocks don't need to gain anything. They simply…"
He leaned in incredibly close, his warm breath trailing down her neck. "…take it."
Asregosa recoiled as goosebumps travelled across her skin, and she damn near fell out of her chair. Growling angrily, she threw a filthy glare at the elf before collecting her drink and storming over to the lounges in the darkened corner of the room. He thankfully made no effort to follow, save for his eyes, which trailed after her with a wicked gleam. Filthy warlocks and their filthy aspect… She continued to mutter under her breath as she sipped at her mead, which was disappearing much faster than she'd expected.
"Alright, I went about it the wrong way. Lets try again," The male was once again beside her, before she'd even realized. She exhaled purposefully, her nostrils flaring as she refused to look at him.
"Why do you insist on—"
"My name…" He took her hand in his, and lightly pressed his lips to her knuckles. "…is Eronel," He flashed a dazzling smile at her the moment she stole a glance at him. He wasn't so bad to look at, she quietly decided as she studied his face. Sharp, defined cheekbones, a slender, sturdy jaw line, and a neat line of facial hair decorated his chin. Asregosa wrinkled her nose, and snatched her hand away.
"I think it only fair that I know of your name," Eronel smiled slyly. Asregosa kept her gaze anywhere but on him, her jaw set firmly.
"Asreia," She said with as much poison as she could muster. "I really have no interest in this nonsense,"
Eronel drew in a small, unbelievable breath of shock. "Nonsense? Ms Asreia, who looks prettier than her name suggests," She stared at him incredulously. Was this guy serious? "Why do you deny me a chance to converse with you?"
"Because, to put it simply, you have no interest in anything other than sex and pleasure," Asregosa snapped. "Just like the rest of your kind. I, on the other hand, have far more important things to concern myself with. Now, if you don't mind," She stood and stormed from the room before Eronel could speak, and stepped out into the cool evening air. As she pondered where to go next, she heard a rustling of veils behind her.
"Now wait just a minute!" Eronel called impatiently, striding up beside her. His smouldering green eyes locked sharply onto hers. "What gives you the right to go about making crude assumptions like that?"
"Never you mind, mortal..." Asregosa spat, clearly forgetting her current place in the world. "Now, like a respectable person, I'd very much like to find the library. So, if you don't mind..." She flicked her hand at him dismissively, shooing him away. Eronel simply grinned.
"Well now, I happen to have a vast library within my home, if you'd like to see," Eronel suggested, scratching his chin in thought and curiosity. Asregosa paused in her train of thought, her mind instead travelling over the idea.
"A private collection?" She asked out of mere curiosity. She studied the man's expression and eyes carefully, and settled on the idea that he was, in fact, being genuine. He nodded slowly, his gaze darting across her face, as if trying to decide on something. A moment of tense, searching silence passed between them.
"Unfortunately, the majority is on the arcane arts," Eronel explained. "General history was never my thing,"
Asregosa bit on her lip uncertainly. If she were to complete her mission as a scout, social interaction was one of the main criteria. Never had she failed a mission before, and this was not going to be an exception, no matter how averse she was to the subject. "I think I'd like to see your library. I know enough history already..." She muttered, barely loud enough for him to hear. His smile turned to a sly smirk as he began to walk, glancing at her over his shoulder.
"And of course, you can't miss a chance to be alone with me..." Eronel called to her. Asregosa's shoulders hunched in agitation, but she continued to follow him. "...I'm just that damn irresistible."
Stupid elves and their vanity... Stupid me and my addiction to the written word...
I'm uncertain if I wish to continue this story. Bear with me, perhaps an update will come soon. :) But as always, education before entertainment.