No Fate is the current working title. It's crap, but all I have right now. Reviews welcome, should have the next bit up soon-ish. Whole story probably a juvenile attempt, but trying to get back where I used to be a few years ago. We'll see, I guess. Enjoy!

-Bndmstrj

UNTITLED

Tanis didn't believe in fate. He didn't believe in predestination. He found it hard believing in anything anymore. Everyone he knew told him it was because he couldn't see past his own losses, but even those words sounded empty to him. He could not believe there were higher beings out there that loved the Night Elves and the other mortal races of Azeroth. No loving god or goddess would do this to him. What creator would allow her to be taken from him? Not just taken, but killed, and forced back to life, serving the evil she had died fighting against! There was no justification, no sane, loving plan. Just chaos in a world determined to tear itself apart. And he would have her no longer, to comfort or be comforted by. To love and to hold. No longer. She was gone. And the world was colder for it.

He remembered first hearing months ago about the Human whose natural talents and abilities had won the honor of training with the Night Elves' Reconnaissance Battalion. It couldn't be true, some whispered. Just a political gesture to strengthen the ties between their races. As a hardworking member of the Battalion, he felt troubled that there might be one holding the rest back. This was no place for politics or pleasantries. They weren't just on the front line, they were the front line. They were beyond the front line, called into enemy territory to attempt to prevent the tragic losses that war would take regardless.

But as a junior member he felt empathy towards the recruit. Coming into a new environment was hard, not to mention a whole different culture. Would the Human succeed? He did not know. It was not his place to have an opinion anyway. He focused on his training and left the thinking to those more experienced. He was very young, after all...

He kept being reminded of that whenever he asked why, or how. He was so very "young" and had so little experience of the world that his questions belied just how juvenile he was. This was ridiculous, of course, since he was 250 and no longer and adolescent. Besides, the Night Elves were no longer immortal, so soon they would all be so very, very, "young". He didn't look young, in any case.

He fit right in with the aesthetic of the veterans in the Battalion, even towered over some. At seven foot four, he was at the taller end of the spectrum than most. Though he wore no beard, his long white hair was not braided or decorated as a youngling's, but kept in a neat ponytail. His dark-white skin did not stand out too much among the many skin tones present. And, most important, his abilities were far from in question. In fact, he was praised as the most promising new member. It was because of this that he was asked to show the Human around the training grounds, and to be their partner for the foreseeable future.

And so here he was, waiting for the hippogriff bringing the newest member of the squad to Darnassus to land, dressed in his best leather armor, black and understated in design, meant for blending in and remaining unseen. He had been told to wear his dress armor, but he did not believe that sent the proper message. He felt he could get away with wearing the standard stealth leathers, as it represented what would be expected of a member: silent, agile service. As the hippogriff landed, he saw the Human, hoping to quell the uncertainty that had been plaguing him.

However, this delicate wisp of a Human female now dismounting a hippogriff in front of him was not what he expected. Granted, he did not know what to expect, but he was certain this was not it. Standing at barely five feet tall and so very pale was his new training partner, and she did not look happy to be there. He could see already that this one had a rebellious streak that far exceeded any he had met before. Through her locks of white hair he could see a number of unorthodox piercings, one ring in her left nostril and another adorning her left eyebrow. Dressed in leathers much like his own, she made them seem almost like a second skin. He revised his original opinion of her from delicate to just small. He could now see that, while she had a delicate face and a sensuous glow about her, her lean form was quite well muscled. Her piercing blue eyes searched his for a hint of friendliness, or perhaps empathy. Whether he felt it or not, she would see none.

Asaria had not wanted to leave home. When her Master had told her that from all his students, the asshole Stormwind officials had handpicked her to train in Darnassus, she had come close to throwing a fit. But at nineteen, she was expected to obey her elders, regardless of what Stormwind had ordered or not. Her unwillingness to conform to idiotic orders came as no surprise to those who knew her well.

As a child, she had refused to agree with any bullshit curriculum that lumped her into any traditional caste. She remembered her mother's look of pained acceptance the day she had come home with her nose piercing, and the almost casual acceptance of her eyebrow ring a year later. It was memories like that which made her cling to her life in Stormwind. The unconditional acceptance she had with her beloved mother and (mostly) respected Master. Where the status quo wanted her, she would have to start anew, with an entire set of expectations to dismantle and destroy. And that shit was just too much work.

So for a month she bitched and moaned and carried on to whoever would listen. She was disrespectful to every Stormwind official who interviewed her, making clear her disdain for them and for their asinine methods. During a banquet held in her honor, an event her mother had always fantasized about attending, she did everything she could to embarrass her mother and insult everyone attending. At the end of the night, her mother, mortified and in tears, had consented to keep her home. It was then that King Varian Wrynn, who she was not even aware had come, marched up and scolded her for her childishness. Shamed her for making her ever-suffering mother cry. And convinced her that she was a strong enough woman to survive away from home.

And so she found herself standing in front of a Night Elf that dwarfed her by at least two feet. Wearing armor much like her own, he seemed calm, and very sure of himself. Unlike the only other Night Elves she had met with before, he wore no beard, though this seemed in favor of his striking features, drawing focus to his strong chin, and glowing amber eyes. It was the eyes she most feared. She could read no emotion from those fucking eyes, and coming from the Human race, she was not ready to forego that added insight into a person's psyche.

When shit hit the fan, and there was no time for words, eye contact was fucking crucial. It took fractions of a second to say, "Let's hightail it the FUCK out of here RIGHT FUCKING NOW," with eye contact. Unless there was a way to do that with a Night Elf, she was screwed. Not to mention the whole height problem, for she could see even the shortest Night Elf was more than a head taller than her. But back to reality, it was time to stick it to the Man. Or Elf. Somehow.

During her brief time in introspection, the Elf in front of her seemed to have sized her up and labeled her into a neat little box to report to his pansy-ass superiors. Time to fuck that up before it stuck.

"Hey, No-beard," NO-BEARD? What the fuck? That was the stupidest thing she'd ever said! "-Er, Babyface. 'M I in the right place?" He cocked his head in what she read as slight confusion and nodded. "Well, then, carry my shit! Aren't you supposed to be hospitable or some-such?" He took her bags without a word of complaint and motioned for her to follow. It was difficult to keep up with his long fucking strides, but she managed to do so while gaping at the beauty of Darnassus. When they finally reached what she guessed were their barracks, he took her to a room at the end of the first hall and placed her bags upon the bed.

"Please make yourself comfortable," hearing his voice for the first time was fucking cathartic, for she was able to glean something of a personality at last: subdued, with a passionate fire barely kept in check. "I will be back in an hour to show you the grounds."

"What if I don't need an hour, Babyface?" Her biting reply was meant to shock, but he just smirked.

"I suppose we could start the tour early, Nose-ring." His playful retort surprised her, for she expected him to be something of a lickspittle: prim, proper, and oh-so-much-fucking-better-than-her. She giggled, deciding to play it straight with this one.

"Asaria, actually." She offered her hand, realizing too late that elves did not greet each other in that manner. He surprised her again by shaking her hand.

"Tanis. I hope you won't test your particular brand of humor with the higher-ups, charming as it is. They won't...appreciate it as some would." He chuckled, and it was then she saw a little more of the person he was. Mischievous, dedicated, and amiable. Maybe she could stand living here.

"Fuckin' great to meet 'cha, Tanis!" at this, he laughed outright. "Seriously, I thought I was gonna be stuck here with a bunch of stiffs!" Still chuckling to himself, Tanis shook his head.

"Oh, Asaria, I think you'll make many enemies this day. But know that you've made one friend, however proper he may be among the ranks." At this she felt a wave of nervousness, which she quelled and buried under willpower and swear words.

"Good. I really need a friend." She whispered, but he could hear her quite well, whether she knew or not