I'm ill today, and my man mentioned yesterday that I should write a story about why Talandriel (my warlock blelf) always blow a kiss or wave at one of the Emissaries in Silvermoon. So I did. It's not goin to be long, but I split it into chapters. The first part will maybe not make sense if you havn't read my story "Kor'alli"
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It was a cold night, and the two bloodelves had huddled together to keep warm. Talandriel was stroking her lover's hair affectionately, while Silvanya sharpened her sword.
"Imagine having Kor'alli here now," Talandriel said innocently. "He would have kept us warm!"
The paladin sighed and worked even harder on the sword's edge.
"I though we had decided not to talk about him anymore," she mumbled.
"No," Talandriel told her, smiling her usual, dreaming smile. "You decided not to talk about him anymore. I was just saying it would have been nice to have his big, warm body here to cuddle up against."
She laughed as this made the paladin stare out into the fog, a smile of recollection upon her face.
"You know," Silvanya said eventually. "This is going to be like that time with that what's-his-name-emissary."
"I was young then," Talandriel defended herself. "I'm older and wiser now, and anyway; it was just for fun."
"Older, yes… And you never told me why you always blew kisses to him."
"I liked his hair."
Talandriel knew, just as well as Silvanya, that there were things they never were going to tell each other. Things they hid. Their relationship was built on love and trust, not necessarily complete honesty.
She had been young back then, and a little silly, but although the memories she had from that time were almost all bad, she had managed to keep some good ones too.
There had been the constant pressure from her parents, their constant disappointment in her, and the fact that she and Silvanya had been kept apart. In the middle of it she had been a young, confused child, barely ready for training.
She remembered all too well the day she had entered the door to their home in the better parts of Silvermoon city, thrilled by the news she was certain would please her parents.
"Warlock?" her father had yelled. "Who wants a warlock in the family? We have had paladins since Kaelan himself! I will have a word with your trainer."
It had not helped that Talandriel had told them she wanted to be a warlock and was very pleased herself with the class she had been picked out for. She had been so naïve, thinking they would be happy with a class that was only one of the major ones, of course they wanted her to be a paladin.
"Silvanya was picked out for the paladin class," she had told them, immediately knowing it was the wrong thing to say.
"We have told you," her mother had replied, trying hard to conceal the fury, but not managing quite. "You are to stay away from that girl! She is a nobody, from a family so far below your own that she is not worthy of even talking to you."
It would have helped nothing to tell them Silvanya was her only friend, the one comfort she had in the world, so she did not.
***
Imagine a timelaps here :D
***
Talandriel crawled up from the Dead Scar, trying to brush the ash and dirt from her robes. She was bleeding from several cuts, and her imp had dissolved somewhere back there, going back to wherever he spent the time he was not in her service.
Limping and stumbling she managed to get up on the road, grimacing at the thought of the long walk home.
They had been questing on request from their trainer, when she had lost her imp and been wounded. Her follow students had left her behind, as was normal when someone could not keep up, leaving her to get home on her own accord or perish out there among the undead.
She missed Silvanya more than she would have though possible. The paladin had always dragged her along, given her strength by being strong herself. She would not have left her behind.
After Talandriel's parents had been aware of the bond forming between the two, they had used their influence to make sure Silvanya always was kept far away from their daughter.
Talandriel swayed slightly as she started limping towards the city, using the fence along the road to support her pained body. The sound of a carriage made her stop, and she tumbled down on the road as it almost ran her over.
"Get out of the road, lowlife!" a voice shouted from the driver's seat, as the driver had to slow down the hawkstriders when they jumped at the sight of the warlock.
"Make way!" another voice yelled.
She could see one of the guards from the carriage jump down and recognized his armour as belonging to the diplomatic branch of the royal guard.
"Na, na," someone inside the carriage told the guard, opening the door. "Let da girl be."
Talandriel was still on her knees as she saw a pair of naked feet emerged, the blue skin and two toes identifying their owner as a troll.
"Ya alright, littl' one?" he asked her, leaning down to help her up.
Talandriel cringed as she realized it was the Darkspear emissary that had found her muddy and worn out by the roadside.
She had often seen the diplomatic envoys of the Horde around in the city, always so busy with the business of their allies. On these occasions she had begun to blow a kiss or wave at the envoy from the Darkspear, first because her classmates had dared her to do it, and then just because it gave her a funny feeling in her stomach thinking someday he might stop and wave back.
She tried to avoid looking into his face, as was proper since he was superior to her, but politely accepted the hand that pulled her to her feet.
"Ah," the troll smiled. "Ya seem to be hurt. We take ya back to da city."
It was not a question, and Talandriel let herself be led into the carriage, sinking into the velvets cushions with a relieved sigh. As the emissary sat down opposite her, she could not help to notice how funny he looked, fully clad in dark armour against the red and golden velvet.
"Dey let me have carriage now," he told her, as if he was reading her thoughts. "Me raptor ate some dragonhawks for da racing, and then they say I have carriage, not ride raptor."
Talandriel smiled, knowing she was not showing the respect he deserved according to his station, but the memory of her father crying in anger over his two best racing-hawks almost made her laugh.
"Ya be da littl' girl blowin' me kisses," the emissary told her, making her stare at him and blush.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, expecting a reprimand.
"Why?"
"It is not respectful."
"No," he laughed. "Why ya blow me kisses?"
"I like your hair," Talandriel answered, because she could not think of anything better to say, but her cheeks burned from the look she got.
His hand brushed through the bloodred bush of hair on his head, his brows wrinkling. Then he grabbed one of the silk pillows and used his knife to cut it into pieces. Talandriel gaped as he handed her the torn silk pointing at her bloody face.
"Ya face is dirty," he told her, smiling friendly. "Tell Tatai ya name, girl."
"Talandriel, of the house of Kaelan Suntoucher," she answered, trying to wipe the blood and dirt of her face with the remains of the finest silk in all of Silvermoon.
"Ya father is Waran Suntoucher?"
"Yes."
It dawned on her that the news of her failure, which she had hoped to keep from her father, would now definitely reach him. He worked closely with the envoys of the Horde, being as close to the bloodelves version of a diplomat as one came.
"Master Tatai?" she asked, bowing her head in respect.
"Yea?"
"Can I beg of you not to tell my father of this? I am a constant disappointment to him, and I would not like him to know I am such a failure."
The diplomat was silent. Talandriel thought he was thinking her request over, but when she raised her head he was watching her, an amused smile on his lips.
"Ya father must be proud of ya," he said. "Me think ya not be a dis'pointment to him."
"Oh, but I am!" she exclaimed, forgetting the submissive tone proper for talking to someone superior.
"I have daughter too," the emissary smiled. "Back in Durotar. She only run after boytroll, not takin' weapon, not takin' magic, just havin' fun. I still proud, but me wish she be more like ya."
"But I am a failure," Talandriel protested. "My parents wanted me to be a paladin, but I am too weak in combat, and I am a hopeless warlock!"
"Na, na… Ya be strong and beautiful, and young. I once was young and untrained, everyone once was. Ya'll be stronger and better. I wish me had daughter like you."
"You can probably adopt me!"
Talandriel was shocked at her own words, but they left her mouth before she could stop them. The troll just laughed loud at her outburst, shaking his head with a smile.
"Ya father be proud of ya, me is sure. Ya will see."
Talandriel left the carriage at the city gates, not wanting to embarrass her family by having the emissary bring her home like a lost pup. She bowed and thanked him for the ride and help, but was shut up by a wave of his hand.
"I will be seein' ya, girl," he told her, winking.
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Thank you for reading my sillyness ;)
