Fall of Quel'thalas

Chapter Ten: How I Met His Mother

The diary made Blaize pay dearly that. When he risked everything to read again, it put him precisely at the heart of memories so opposed to his goal for cracking into the golden book in the first place.

Fifteen years earlier…

It was immediately clear that Magnus the Unmaker was not a man to be trusted.

"I come here and get a good look through the Queen's window every Sunday."

But the document naming Blaize as the King of Quel'thalas was starting to poke his ribs, and the memory of Kael'thas Sunstrider dismissing him, after so many loyal years, was starting to wear on Blaize's nerves. He was either going to get everything he wanted and soon, or Kael'thas was going to die. Maybe, both.

"And you say that she's lonely? I'm all over lonely…" Blaize mounted up.

"Very. It's no coincidence that they put archers just up there." Magnus pointed to the high wall just beneath Queen Celestia's tower window. The Silver Covenant outpost in Terrokkar Forest was not meant to be so important, but to some Highborne, it was as good a hideout as any. There were few places in Outland or Azeroth where anyone who remembered or served the late King Anasterian Sunstrider could be properly welcomed. And, doubly vexing, nobody with any real connection to his son Kael'thas Sunstrider would never be comfortable in Dalaran, with the Kirin Tor.

Blue slate roofs just peeked over the pristine white stone fortress. Magnus could not be more of a Blood Elf against all that: wild grin, cruel features, eyebrows swept up like a raven piercing earthward, after prey. He was also a pretty boy, which Blaize found irritating. Magnus had this irritating habit of twining fingers in ebon hair as he spoke--and at that, often indulging yawn-some, endless narration. He grasped curled locks suddenly on loving a new idea, then would turn and kiss that handful of hair. Weird.

You're not prettier than I. "How old are you, Magnus?"

Magnus confessed that he was even younger than Kael'thas.

Clearly, you're a sociopath. "Well, I suppose you still know your way around things. And this master of yours… are you altogether certain he's an esteemed anti-monarchist? I find it curious such an employer comes with no name."

Magnus continued to conjure magic. The most complex jumble of bright violet lines Blaize had ever seen. And in the past, Kael'thas had thrown some doosies at the enemy, with the Sunfury Army watching.

"I have sworn body and soul to his cause, as you have promised to aid me. You will be made King, General Blaize. No turning back now."

"Riiight." Hell, as long as I get paid…

When Magnus released his spell, four other Elves appeared. He spoke to them, telling Harmony and Hemlock to go one way, and for Jealousy and Punishment to flank him. Blaize had only ever seen Deathknights or Warlocks conjure sentient pets before. He almost got back down off his Hawkstrider mount.

Each person had something witty to say, then bowed, and pranced off-stage into the bushes. "Now people, remember to smile, project your voices, and no backs to the audience… because the audience tends to be a Highborne Army with sharp death-implements poised." Actors, ugh.

Blaize waited a ways back, on the road, while he sort of heard Harmony and Hemlock announce King Kael'thas Sunstrider's surrender to the Highborne Cause. Magnus had a jacket fixed with enough of Blaize's exotic medals to make it look official, but still, even then it should not have been so easy…

As Blaize galloped fast through the opened fortress gate, he saw the soldiers' eyes so glazed over, and drool warming over quivering lips. They looked at Magnus like he was a meal, and every word a gifted morsel from the heavens and its attendant dragons above. "Nathaniel, you've got ten minutes before they snap out of it…"

Blaize kept his focus in check. Surely, he'd known Magnus for longer than ten minutes? How long did it take to meet a stranger over drinks at World's End Tavern and then decide to entrust him with your secret plans for screwing over King Kael'thas?

He stayed on his Hawkstrider, rode all through the fortress to enthralled and cheering Highborne--it was hard not to return a sharp, Sunfury salute when he was so good at that. When he passed the stables, that got worrisome, because it meant Blaize was going exactly the wrong way, and being lost consumed precious time. But, it was a classic military structure, and he found the civilians' quarters eventually. His bird mount galloped up the steps, squawking and scratching talons everywhere. Grand, grand heroic noise. And then, at the top of the highest tower, he took hold of the most delicate doorknob of all--in black glove--and gently clicked. Blaize found Celestia in a suitable state of un-dress, of course.

Bow at what he still hoped was a trimmed waist. "My Lady. I have been sent from Silvermoon to rescue you."

"And you are?" Though she was already fetching a packed satchel from the closet. Celestia forced a round hatbox into Blaize's arms and took a little yellow book from her desk.

"General Nathaniel Blaize, at your service. Is this a hatbox?"

"No, they're the tears of Anasterian I've been saving, in order to restore the Sunwell. Of course it's a hatbox, Queens don't impress the masses of their incredible import with rags. Now, hurry up!"

Back out in the courtyard, Magnus and his acting troupe had convinced the entire place that General Blaize was going to return the once Queen Celestia to her step-son's kingdom as a token of peace, and that another regiment would be sent soon to deliver a messenger with further orders from Kael'thas.

"For the King feels such heavy shame in his heart that he would treat his own stepmother and Anasterian's widow so powerfully wrong. Banishment, for having spent the royal treasury on shoes? Excessively cruel, in anyone's book."

"I am also accused of breaking the late Anasterian's mind, but pick your poison, really." Celestia laughed before all of them, and began to wave farewell gently, from the wrist.

From where he could see sitting behind her on the Hawkstrider, Blaize admired Celestia's villainous wit. And, after all these years, she seemed to still carry herself well. She was perhaps eight years older than Blaize, from what he remembered of Anasterian's court, and never was as lithe as the other women. Celestia was curvaceous even back then, like a classic sculpture of a bathing-woman come to life. A beauty mark sat just so over her self-assured smile, and her gray-streaked hair was coiled to a fault in several rosettes. A simple silver tiara enabled Celestia to lighten the look to something youthful, but a tiny pearl-drop tear hanging from it at the center of her brow prevented her looking too hopeful to turn back time. It completed the once Queen's unique style; she was a classic beauty, and though changed by the times, would not be changed in spirit. Blaize sensed right away that Celestia was the sort who remembered what had been good about Quel'thalas, and would never forget it.

Though the old General liked to think himself above such things, especially in the heat of conflict, an idea kept making him adjust and readjust in the saddle. This woman--no matter shamed by two Sunstriders, was still the creature who had thwarted a thousand courtiers, launched half as many duels among gentlemen in her lifetime, and finally aroused King Anasterian into a near-rage such that he broke his promise to never take a wife again. That could not all be about looks, when there were women pretty enough in Silvermoon at that time, and few young ladies--not the ones Blaize was able to enjoy these last few years, at least--understood that a man did not risk his neck nor good sword-arm on a female without substance. It was made clear enough in all that Celestia had gathered about her as they escaped--the packed-bag standing by, the exhausted waving soldiers she'd managed to keep tolerant of her these last five years, the hope that lent a predatory glint to her eye and all that… No matter her beauty, Blaize now also beheld a diabolical woman--no, wore her close against his hips, save for the animal between them. He grabbed hold of her as they went swiftly with Magnus back through the woods, and Celestia was the one who leaned in, as if it was her energy driving the mount. It exhilarated Blaize, within such a pristine moment, to have believed her capable.

By the time all these lustful thoughts cleared, Magnus had passed through so many tangles and thickets, they were eventually all secured at his camp deep in Terrokkar Forest. Dinner was soup, that Celestia ate proudly. She seemed to realize, however humble, it was her first free meal since her banishment from Silvermoon. Blaize let the bad gruel humble him again, and when it was time, asked Magnus the Unmaker for use of his tent.

Magnus pointed with soiled spoon, then went back to gorging dinner. He could be heard later, ordering about his puppet-people to clean up this and pack up that. "And while you two settle things, I will only be working on the greatest screenplay ever done, my Magnus Opus! Hmph, thank you for asking."

Now out of earshot of the dried up actor, "What exactly is your plan, General?"

Blaize took the scroll from inside of his cloak. "You work quickly."

"You don't look like a stupid man to me, or else I would have let you hump me already." She took the contract and read it while Blaize broke into shocked laughter. "I see…"

"My Queen, the Bloodknight Matriarch is an old acquaintance, she can't deny it. Kael'thas also remembers signing this, I'd bet money he's never really ever so high out of his gourd—how could he have ever conducted so much business in Outland, otherwise? So, you see, I was made King not long ago at Tempest Keep, but I never acted on it. The rest of the Sunfury are loyal to me. They want nothing to do with this caretaker government of Thrall's, nor Kael'thas' interminable lies. We should be stationed within the city and all over Eversong too. I am sure Lieutenants Dacian and Falx will help me re-take that throne. But I cannot get the people to go along with it, as I am a stranger to anyone who wasn't in Azeroth. That is where your connection to beloved Anasterian, as the hopeful widow, and his last name come in."

Celestia sighed, tapped her painted fingernails along the calf-skin back of the document. "You are the one who was married to Saturna Whiteblade. I heard about the Ball at the Black Temple, it happened while I was shut up here in Terrokkar. Are you sure this is about patriotism, General Blaize, the good of the country?"

"I can't have anything else to do with that silly Saturna Whiteblade. I did, truly, love her deeply for a long time, but after she and Illidan—"

Celestia laughed through her nose. "General, you misunderstand me. Yes, I am King Anasterian's widow and still have claim to so much in the empire. For this reason, I have long accepted my fate as a pawn; but my objection is hardly about good intentions or a happy marriage between yourself and I. As a legal Sunstrider, it was only a matter of time before some ambitious Blood Elf or Highborne came to use me in a plot to regain power over the kingdom. I don't care about what your heart needs, what trifles someone so young and inexperienced as you must think come with love: duty, honor, longing… Once my last name makes you King and we two are set up and bonded legally, you can take as many whores as you wish, and I intend to pursue my own happiness as well." She hooked a finger beneath what Blaize hadn't realized could have been a brazier sneaked underneath so many delicate layers of lace, and adjusted it. If lions were proud of their manes, Celestia Sunstrider enjoyed flaunting her breasts with as much threat. Grabbing herself in public, it was almost masculine. "But before even then, I want to know that I will be teaming up with someone who has enough sense to do this for money and control, not for fame. Fame is fleeting. And if what you want in the end is Kael'thas' wife, Kael'thas' life, Kael'thas' connections… then you will only end up with Kael'thas' problems as well."

Blaize scratched his goatee, as his heart pounded in his ears. "Celestia, I think… talking any further is a waste."

Celestia agreed with him. "We are equals, and could have been rivals if we were contemporaries. Our aim is perfect. This is most satisfactory." She offered her hand, and he kissed it.

"Tell me," Blaize found himself laughing once more, "are only lusty simpletons invited to hump Her Majesty, as you called it?"

"Have we got the time to celebrate? The Highborne rangers will realize they've been duped before long though your friend's skill with suggestion is exceptional. I was hoping to be back on Azeroth, at the least, before indulging myself."

"Yourself? You sound as if I will have nothing to do with it."

Celestia preened herself again, a little shimmy and tug to settle exactly as she wanted in the dress. "Forgive me, I am not a coy woman at all. My intentions are thus: If you are as delicious beneath your breeches as you are in speech, as fantastically endowed as your swagger all this while suggests, as powerfully north-bound as your high wit, then, I reassure you, it will be Celestia taking full advantage of you this time, General Blaize. It seems you often had it the other way around."

Blaize came near and kissed her, bewitched. "I don't think I've ever been offered love so shamelessly by a woman. Do you mean that you intend to ravage me? Your skill in subduing a lover could not be better than mine… I thought you'd heard all the stories from the Black Temple?"

Celestia spread the very indestructible magic document out on the floor, and invited him to join her on it. "Fine. Shaking hands on a scheme is so Court of the Sun now, anyways."

Celestia had no words. She hugged him close and allowed Blaize to play however he wished. The night passed too quickly for her. She felt that she should have more to say to a man so elegant and wicked. He would out think her, outpace her, outshine her, and soon. Better yet, she feared she wanted him to do so.

Later, when she no longer felt lonely, "How I marvel at the prospect of seeing you command an entire army, and soon. They must worship you."

"On their better days, yes."

"I can't stand that it's already morning; we must do this again. We match so perfectly well, Blaize."

"I would be happy to oblige if we can manage it, while running from the law."

"Ha! I've not been made to laugh so well since…" Celestia was afraid to finish. Blaize feared to encourage her feeling, so he kissed her cheek instead.

Then, emotion erupted. "Oh, bless you. Blaize, you are so tactfully unkind as to not waste a sentence or effort on anyone unworthy, not too vain nor moral to complicate sharing your body and good skill with it, you are a perfect brute to your lessers and an elegant ass with your equals. A thrill to be near, and underneath, at all times. I praise you, General, I am taken with your ruthless nobility. I will never mistake your meaning or judgment on any one thing, I can already tell." She shut her eyes, and pulled his arm tighter about her waist. The royal contract crinkled between them. "I feared they did not make men like you anymore."

He was struck. Would it be a show of weakness to admit that not even a Prince of Quel'thalas had shown him such kindness? Nor Saturna, nor Liadrin, nor anyone else. Such a personal compliment. "…And I know for a fact they don't make women this sturdy, either."

Celestia yelped laughter, and had to cover her mouth. She did not know that Blaize felt so ignorant to have said it, when he couldn't manage anything as swift and sweet (as sweet as a vain person could manage to do, or a second vain person could strain himself to appreciate). And so, the smile Blaize returned was unusually genuine for him. Celestia would realize this about him much later, though. About right after they were King and Queen, wallowing in greedy bliss, and just before ghost puppies raced through the throne room, having let the vengeful Blood Knights out.

After reading and recalling such frightfully good memories, Blaize sat on his hands, waiting for Celestia to leave her diary unattended another time that week. He was taken to something written very recently:

Dearest Diary,

As I recall our coming together, I still believe that banishment for Blaize and myself came too soon. If only we had been King and Queen a little while longer, long enough to really grip power by its balls and feel like authentic allies! Then, perhaps, there would be a friendship beneath this on-again-off-again misery in Dalaran.

Blaize closed his wife's diary, and leaned away from moonbeam to whisper happily in the darkness, "Oh, Celestia. I wish you'd grab me by the balls…"

She stirred awake. "Such language! Excuse me, Sir. But my mouth is only ever dirty for having you in it."

More laughter and rustling sheets. Dannox would never believe what miracle had finally occurred, when at last, Blaize could confide in his fair-weather friend again.

Author's Note:

Have I been watching too much Masterpiece Theater and reading too much Jane Austen? Mayhaps.