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Originally posted on tumblr. Blaque's reaction to Aranya's note and reply letter to her were written by mrblaque.
Characters mentioned belong to kurel-andiel, mrblaque, and whalecarver of tumblr.
A note was on the Purveyor's desk. Another. Note. Was there NO END to the amount of NOTES and PAPERWORK that came to him of late? It read:
Blaque,
Half of the payment that was originally agreed to has already been given to me.
As for the other half: Whatever the cost to care for my injuries was at the clinic, cover it. Whatever the bill is to stay a few days more at the Strider until I can figure a port residence of my own, cover that, too.
Keep the rest. I don't want it.
~Aranya Ver'Sarn
" Boss, letter for you from that woman, doing that thing, with the port."
Fin: always one for details when it came to woodworking but shitty when it came to people. As quickly as the foreman returned to drop the letter off, he departed all the same as there was an ever growing list of things needed to be maintained. Waiting to hear the click of the latch once more, Blaque slipped from his hidden workshop, closing the case behind him. He was clothed, mostly since he knew someone would come back in while he was reading. Blaque moved toward his desk, snapping his fingers to release the enchantment that barricaded both doors and window alike.
His eyes scanned over every word that was written therein, shaking his head at what was written." FIN!", Blaque shouted out, knowing the death knight hadn't managed to walk too far away from his office. As the foreman's head poked back into the office, Blaque handed the man a rolled up piece of parchment; " Take this layout and begin construction behind the office, just beyond the hill of Lilies. I'll have specifics on what's to go inside it soon enough. Use the wood I had brought in before the quarantine, the stuff from Ashenvale; spare no expense. Unda'stood?" Fin knew that tone, knew full well not to question Blaque when his accent came leaking out of his throat.
Moving to his seat behind his desk, he hadn't waited for Fin to leave before grabbing parchment and ink for a return message to Aranya; she may not like his response but he wasn't in a mood to allow an argument heart. She'd either accept or leave the Port, it was her call.
" Lady Ver'sam,
I thank you for the work you've done for us and your commitment to the Port we call home. The payment left in remainder to what's been given to you already will be allotted to your medical bills, while providing a donation of sorts to keep said clinic running. At the time of this writing, a home is being built for you that overlooks the harbor as well as my hill of lilies. Whatever you wish to be placed in said home, send word to my foreman Fin and he will see it done.
No cost in taxes will be needed should you decide to stay in Port, so long as your services to said Port are always available when needed. As I'm sure you were close to the one who asked you to provide your services to us, I think he would think me wise for attempting to keep you here. As the sickness is still looming in the Port, the quarantine has not been lifted but I do have a contact that is immune who will bring what we need.
I believe in light of recent events, anyone that considered the Blind Captain a friend would be wise to stick together; wouldn't you agree?
Yours in shadows,
Mr. Blaque
Purveyor of Sunspire."
With a snap of his fingers, the letter would find it's way to the front desk of the clinic, wrapped in an envelope addressed to Aranya.
" I'll keep the port safe, Kurel; I'll keep them all safe and be a better guardian to them than I was to you."
Aranya turned her wrists over and over again. The bandages had just come off, and they looked… Good, actually.
Seo-yun's healing magic had done wonderful work. The shackle-shaped scars that would have appeared ruinous on her from the twilight metal that had to be melted off of her wrists looked no worse than chafe marks, rough and discolored, and much easier to smooth over back to perfection. The mage smiled. She would be glad to check out of the clinic.
The front desk had a letter waiting for her. Whiskery black eyebrows furrowing, Aranya flicked open the envelope and read… Her expression softening and sliding further into dumbfounded amazement with every line.
She read it a few times more and her mouth slowly pulled into a smile.
Finally folding up the letter, Aranya shifted her awareness to whatever imprints were left on it by the writer, and focused intently. "Take me there," she whispered in archaic Thalassian.
She was teleported to a location that was indeed as Blaque described it. The view of the harbor was glorious. There were the lilies on the hill. Little Valéria would adore playing there. And the view of the sky would show her miles and miles of stars into the horizon line. Just as she could have ever desired. It was ideal.
She could imagine it all. Over here the main house, with her sanctum on the topmost floor. Over there a small garden to walk through, with cultivars from Outland and native blooms from Eversong.
As Aranya took it all in and unfolded the potential of it in her mind, she became struck with a realization. One that made her feel as if the departed pirate king might as well have been standing there, looking at her with that sightless stare that could still see everything that mattered, with a slight smirk on his face.
"Even if you still drew breath… This is exactly what you would have orchestrated to happen, isn't it?" Aranya whispered.
It seemed that, even in death, Kurel An'Diel still had some power from beyond the grave to see his wishes done.
A lopsided grin blossomed on the arcanist's face. "It's perfect," she whispered. Whether to Kurel, or to Blaque, or to the expanse of sky yawning over her, she couldn't say.
"I accept."