She sighed heavily as she pulled her long tails from the water. Swimming was not becoming when the objective was to go on land. Swimming was not becoming when she had to do it on her own. Unbecoming, but necessary.
After all, Queen Azshara refused to go a week without her Lord Counselor's advice. After the little fiasco at the Well of Eternity—apparently, more stressful for him than for her—their visits had become solely reliant on her.
"Xavius, you bastard, getting yourself turned into a tree," she almost whined. His determination to make her life more complicated had taken itself to a whole new level. He was now silent and immobile. Useless, really, to a Queen of the Naga.
And still she slithered towards his roots, her scales clinking on her jewelry.
"There you are," Azshara sighed. Crossing all three sets of arms over her chest she let out a huff. "You are making this tenuous relationship worse, Lord Counselor. There is absolutely no reason whatsoever for you to stay in place. You could, in the least, sway your branches or shed leaves to acknowledge my marvelous presence."
Nothing. Azshara nearly growled, but thought better of it. Even Lord Counselor trees were still trees. And Azshara knew what trees did. They stood around, dumping off leaves, making strange smells, and blocking off valuable light. They were useless on good days, and needed to be hacked down brutally to make toasty fires on most days.
"If I ever find that stupid, stupid dirt-digging mongrel commoner bastard antler-headed…thing, I will kill him! He's already killed you twice! That's more than I've killed you, of course, once I figure out how to get you back, I will five-up him or more. And I will turn you into more interesting creatures! Not trees."
Still nothing. If rage wasn't so improper, Azshara would have shown it. Instead, she reached up and pulled a group of twigs down with one set of arms and began to braid them. "Do you remember, Lord Counselor, when I used to braid your hair? When you had hair. You'd pull out a few books and some parchment and make notes on spells, altering and theorycrafting. Then you'd piddle with your hands a bit, rewrite the wording, and all the while letting me turn your mundane brown hair into something more decorative. How I miss those days—how I miss those intentional ignoring days…"
As her voice trailed off a small, glowing leaf fell down into her hair. Gently, she pulled it loose and cradled it, taking care not to crinkle the edges.
"One day, Xavius, we'll have all that back. All of it. And then, instead of being just my Lord Counselor and Consort, I'll make you my king. And we'll have children. Fifty of them, because you adore children. And because I will have legs, and I will be able to reproduce with you because you'll have legs and proper anatomy for that as well. And we'll have two towns. Zin-Azshari, and Zin-Xavian. And they'll be big enough for us and all the normal Kal'dorei left."
She continued, rambling on and on about her dreams like a child. The leaves above rustled, branches striving to reach Azshara and cradle her as she fell asleep. The moon crept towards the horizon, the sun sneaking up on the other side. Azshara's body curled gracefully on itself, her tails cuddling the single leaf within her reach. Even in her sleep, she mumbled on about her plans, breaking the silence.
Once again the leaves whirled, a hint of annoyance falling around Azshara with the winds. A faint voice could be heard, briefly.
One day, Queen Azshara, I'll be able to tell you to 'shut up' again.