A Brief Farewell

"Farewell has a sweet sound of reluctance. Good-bye is short and final, a word with teeth sharp to bite through the string that ties past to the future."
― John Steinbeck

**NSFW**

The herbalist reminded Rin of a vagrant: dingy clothes, a puffy face and ruddy nose—likely from drink, he surmised. Rin leaned against the wall, his arms firmly crossed; he was thoroughly uncomfortable in the Leighton's parlor. Sahar, the Leightons, and the herbalist all sat in the dining room chairs placed around a small coffee table where Mrs. Leighton had deposited a quaint tea set. The woman had been shooting him daggers with her glares from the moment he stepped into the house at Leighton's persistent urging. He'd chosen not to antagonize the woman further and picked a vantage point by the room's entrance, noting that Ahern skulked about nearby, peering into the room once in a while with a comically stern little nod, as if bewildered to find people there each time.

He be in a dither because Sahar be close by, Rin noted, slightly peeved at his would-be-rival. As he passed the room for the third time, Rin noticed the lad's hair had been combed back and the strong astringent smell of sweet pine meant he had gone as far as slapping on some cologne. He examined Sahar, sitting on the chair beside the herbalist.

He couldn't blame the lad for his attentiveness.

Sahar was just… something' else, he thought, with a mix of affectionate satisfaction and lusty restlessness. Even in simple tunic and straight ankle-length skirt she cut a striking figure. She was so sweet, she made him laugh… and she enjoyed sex. Even better, she enjoyed sex with him. It flattered Rin that she had flirted with him so openly and had wanted him so…definitively, he remembered, grinning discreetly as flashes of that morning crossed his mind. As if summoned by his persistent gaze, Sahar raised her eyes to him. She shifted in her chair, a bit flustered at…being caught looking? Or catching him looking? The grin grew into a small smile and she rested her eyes on him a beat too long before returning her attention to the blathering herbalist.

Ah, this herbalist: he be meetin' all da criteria for bein' a fucker, Rin thought with a surge of crankiness.

He was planning his departure to Camp Mojache that afternoon and the longer the grubby man yammered about soil composition, using fancy technical jargon to describe plain dirt, the more definitively the window of opportunity for him to have one last romp with Sahar before leaving was closing. He wasn't saying anything Rin hadn't already verified.

The man spoke in an agitated, feverish way.

"As I said, the soil…The soil appears to be fine," the man repeated.

"And how varied were ya samples?" Rin wondered. "Did ya collect any from around da symbols in da fields?"

The man stared at him sheepishly before looking away. Rin couldn't tell if it was the typical discomfort humans often displayed in his presence or something else.

"What symbols?" he asked confusedly. "Where?"

"Where Leighton's lands end—east of here, by da forest. Ya go there. Ya take some samples and then ya tell us what happens."

"But…but when did these symbols appear?" the herbalist asked nervously, addressing Leighton.

"I can't be sure." Leighton plunked his teacup back on the coffee table. "But Rin'Seyi and Sahar discovered them yesterday."

"This is fascinating!" the herbalist announced, sitting up. "I need to go and check for myself."

"Be my guest." Leighton sat back, unimpressed. "But quite honestly, Thornton, while you go around and bury seeds into pots and wait for them to grow to tally them, I am losing money. My livelihood—my very home and family—are at stake here!"

At Leighton's outburst, Mrs. Leighton's hand flew up to her neck. She remained stoically silent, staring at the rug beneath them. Rin heard Ahern shuffling away with a heavy step further down the hall.

"This might be a fascinating experiment for all of you, but for me…this is my entire life, my family's prosperity! I need answers and I need a solution!" Leighton leaned forward, addressing the quirky herbalist.

"Ya can't be treatin' an illness before understandin' what it be. We be acting before we have an idea and we might end up destroying ya farm," Rin offered in a more appeasing tone. "It's in everyone's interest here to know what be happenin'. I have some ideas—"

"You…You DO?" Thornton cried out.

Rin's brow furrowed just as Sahar's eyes narrowed.

"Yah. And I be needin' to confirm a few tings before takin' action," he explained.

The man's nose twitched. Like a rat, Rin thought.

"So…What do you think is…uh… happening?" Thornton prodded.

All eyes turned to him.

"I don't want to say anytin' yet. But I am leavin' tonight to…" He paused, realizing how a mention of Camp Mojache would sound to that frazzled band. "…Visit scholars who will provide me with some answers…And perhaps," he turned to look at Sahar, "even find the right tools to help us implement a cure."

"You're off today still?" Leighton scratched his head.

"Just for a night or two. I won't be long," he assured him, his eyes returning to meet Sahar's.

"I will stay here," Sahar added. "And I have a few leads I wish to verify, too."

It appeared they had riled up the herbalist.

"Well! Then! Leighton…I would very much like to see those symbols in your fields…" Leighton nodded. "And…Uh… I would also…I mean, could we?…" He was stammering as he addressed Sahar. He took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. "Perhaps we could aid each other's research?"

Sahar's nod and grin were as polite as they were guarded.

"Perhaps."

"Ah. Yes. Yes, that would be good!" The man jumped to his feet, bumping into the coffee table and rattling the saucers and cups. "Very well! Good!" He patted and smoothed down his drab robe. "I am glad we had a chance to talk." He extended his hand to Leighton. "I will come by tomorrow, if you don't mind."

"Do what you must," Leighton said dryly, shaking the man's hand.

"Sahar, I will look forward to conferring with you tomorrow morning, then. I'm very curious to learn what you have…uh…understood about all of this." With that, Thornton furtively stepped out into the hall, took a wrong turn and colided with a wall.

Rin and Sahar walked together toward the barn as Leighton drove Thornton back to town in his cart. Muddy water pooled along the trail and a persistent mist would not cease despite the heavy rains earlier.

"When are you leaving?" Sahar wondered.

"I need to go in a little bit." He sighed, tilting his head toward her, wishing he could reach for her hand but wary of the possibility they were being watched from the farmhouse. "I be gatherin' some of my belongings and headin' out before it gets dark. I have to fly for a couple of hours and I want to be gettin' there before nightfall."

Sahar pushed the barn door open.

"Who are you meeting at Camp Mojache?"

"I don't know yet," he admitted. "But I know for whom I be looking."

She held the door for him, standing aside.

"I don't follow."

"I be lookin' for a warlock, specifically, " he explained. "I tink this here be very ancient, arcane magic—possibly linked to…" He hesitated; he didn't even like to say it. "Da Twistin' Nether."

A flash of pain crossed her face and he gathered she had remembered her ordeal the previous day.

"Ya all right?" he asked kindly, placing his calloused hand over her cheek.

"I don't think I can go back to that field." She tilted her face into his palm.

So soft, so warm...

His eyes darkened.

"Be careful with Thornton."

She examined him pensively.

"Did you get the sense there is something off about him?"

Rin scurried up the ladder.

"Yah!" he called down to her. "I did."

"I got the same impression, too!" she told him excitedly. "What was it that made you suspicious?" Before he could reply, she launched excitedly into her own observations. "First, he reeked of drink. It was practicaly oozing out of his pores."

He grinned as he began to collect a few belongings into his pack. He could hear her pacing back and forth below as she launched into her exposition. She had picked up on pretty much the same things he had: the man had been too cagey, digressed terribly, and was flat-out ineffective at concealing his curiosity and nervousness. "What did you notice?" she finally called up to him after a few minutes.

"From da get-go, he has a few tings countin' against him," he continued.

"Like what?"

"Well," he began, pulling the straps of his pack tighter. "For one: he is a human."

"Rin!" she called out crossly. He chuckled, casting the loft a parting glance before slinging the pack over his shoulder.

"Then, there be the fact he be Alliance." He began climbing down the ladder. "Who would ever join those losers?"

She let out a little cry of indignation. Once he reached the ground, he approached her. Her expression softened and she leaned back against the wall invitingly. He was learning to read her tells: she was up to no good.

"Do you really need to leave now?"

She looked so enticing like that; he felt a small flutter in his chest.

"Yah, I do," he lamented.

He stopped before her. "Ya know what I am going to ask ya now, don't ya?"

She puzzled.

"What?"

"Hold still," he whispered, drawing closer for a kiss.

It was supposed to be a quick kiss, just a little good-bye kiss, but Sahar wrapped her arms around his neck tugging him closer and kissed him deeply, very insinuatingly. He gave in for a moment, letting his hand wander under her tunic, cupping one of her breasts. He was quickly losing track of the urgency of his departure and enjoying the feel of her hard nipple and soft skin between his fingers while their mouths clicked wetly with each kiss. Before he realized what she was doing, she hastily pulled off her tunic.

"Oh, don't be doin' that to me," he moaned in protest. "Ya know I need to go now…"

"You're going to leave me this way for one—maybe two—whole days?" She pouted coyly, clasping her hands behind her back while leaning against the wall. He was very sorely tempted to give in.

"Save that thought for when I get back," he told her, stepping away and adjusting his pack.

"Isn't there anything I could do to change your mind?" she continued suggestively. He snorted lightly.

"I'm sure ya could tink of sometin'," he joked, ordering himself to step away and finding that his legs would not budge. She was a vision just then.

He swooped down and collected her discarded tunic off the ground.

"Here—come walk me down to da beginning of da trail," he suggested, handing the garment back to her.

"Wait: what if I told you I am wearing nothing beneath my skirt?" She bit her lip, watching for his reaction.

A rush of desire overcame him.

"I'd say," he began, clearing his throat before falling silently and shaking his head. He stepped back from her, haltingly, before wandering to the barn door feeling like the biggest asshole on Azeroth for turning his back on a beautiful half-naked woman who was practically throwing herself at him.

"I'll see ya in two days, ya insatiable demoness," he joked gruffly.

"Rin," she called to him suggestively.

He should have known by the tone of her voice not to look back, but he did. He watched her in a lusty daze as she slowly pulled up the hem of her skirt, watching it slide over her shins, then past her knees, provocatively skimming her thighs before revealing the patch of soft dark hair between her legs, confirming that in fact she hadn't been wearing any small clothes. Her fingers very deliberately raked over it, her thighs parting slightly for his benefit. She leaned there like that, so defiant and inviting as she held his gaze.

Camp Mojache... can wait, he concluded, tossing the pack heavily to the ground. He walked up to her, pushing her roughly against the wall as he quickly undid the front of his trousers. He sought her mouth and kissed her hard.

"Ya be terrible," he scolded her. "This gonna have to be a quick one." He grabbed one of her legs and held it up against his waist.

She smiled with unguarded delight and he just couldn't help melting at her glee at having successfully lured him back into her arms. They kissed more, and he let his fingers wander lower, to her naked sex. His excitement heightened when he ran a fingertip against her velvety nub, finding her ready, wet and aroused, prompting her to moan and push against his hand. She eagerly reached for his cock, gripping it and rubbing him against her slowly. Their breaths quickened as he teased her with the tip of his cock, not allowing himself to enter her just yet. She began to grind against him with impatience, maneuvering her hips so that his next thrust slipped inside her. They both cried out from the raw, sudden pleasure. He let himself lean against her before slipping a hand between them, to stroke her clit and he began to pump his hips faster, gripping her leg tightly as she straddled him. He pushed her up against the wall harder, thrusting more forcefully all while keeping his touch very soft, very light, as he rubbed her engorged nub. He could tell she was moments away from her release when her eyes fluttered shut, and her brow furrowed in wrapt concentration, chasing the impending burst of pleasure both his fingers and cock were coaxing from her. It was driving him wild; he loved watching her like that, seeing her flushed with desire for him, knowing that he had put her in that state. It was making him dizzy, inflaming his own desire.

Kual, the Zandali word echoed in his head. Mine.

Each time he pushed into her, the dividing wall they were leaning against creaked noisily. It was the furthest thing from his mind until they were interrupted by a loud, plaintive moo from the stables. They halted immediately, startled for a moment, alarmed and disoriented until Sahar covered her mouth, erupting into relieved laughter. He chuckled as well, resting his forehead against hers breathlessly.

"Rin," she spoke to him in a hushed tone, between kisses, catching her breath. "You were right, you know—I'm going to miss you while you're away. I wish you didn't have to go."

Her words fanned his fire: he couldn't kiss her quickly enough to show her his approval. He began to thrust again, more gently this time, a delicious yearning tightening inside, overcoming him with a deep tenderness.

"Ira. Osta za, Sahar. Ira," he murmured breathily against her mouth, lost in his own heightening excitement. Come. For me, Sahar. Come, he at once encouraged and ordered her.

It wasn't just the sex, he realized headily, as her orgasm exploded, pulsing around his cock, throbbing against his fingertips as she held him tightly. It's this woman. What she be doin' to me, he thought, slipping away, swept up in his own approaching release.

"Ya behave, ya hear?" he scolded her gamely as she walked him down to where the path to the farmhouse and the road into the village met.

"And you hurry back." She reached out and hooked her little finger with his larger one.

"Ya be a pervert." He looked away, flustered for once, pretending he was cross at her stalling tactics.

"You didn't seem to mind back in the barn…" She craned her neck and quickly planted a tiny kiss on his nose.

"No," he finally agreed. "It be one of da tings I like about ya." He sighed happily. "I'll be lucky if I manage to fly to Mojache in a straight line anytime I tink of you with ya skirt hiked up like that…Mm…" He even shivered. "It's gonna be ya fault if I end up crashin' into a tree."

She had the audacity to blush at his words, under his appreciative gaze. He grinned, bumping into her playfully. She grinned as well.

Look at us: we be like two horny, idiotic younglins, he thought. We have da dazed smiles, awkward pauses, all down pat.

He squeezed her hand reassuringly and she squeezed back.

"Be careful," she pleaded, as he began to walk down the road.

"I will." He turned back and waved.

"Archenon poros." She waved back to him.

When he shifted and took to the air, once he glanced back he found her still standing at the road, watching him wistfully.

A/N: Zandali words were taken from the most excellent Zandali dictionary posted by WarGodZajru on Wowpedia.

Sorry this is so late. I had hoped to post a chapter every week consistently, but life is very strange and upside down right now and I haven't felt like... much of anything. I started writing again this week and it's one of the few activities that has been making me feel better. So there's that. And hopefully another update next week.