Twenty-One.
Taliah rose early and walked back to Southshore before either Thomas or her mother had awoken. Necrucian, who never seemed to sleep, hadn't asked her where she was going, and she had slipped out of the cottage in silence. Winter hadn't even official begun yet on the calendar, but there was already half a foot of snow on the ground. The morning was clear and cold, and the paladin pulled her cloak about her. Drifting had covered their tracks from the evening before, and the sparkling white canvas that stretched out before her made the paladin feel incredibly alone.
The main street was already bustling with activity as people went about their normal, uneventful lives, and the cloaked paladin moved among them unnoticed. She could smell bread baking, meat cooking, and the ring of hammer on metal from the various shops. Voices spoke in merry tones, greeted each other, haggled good-naturedly over prices or enquired about each other's families. It was so much different than the North, where only the banter of soldiers, the crackle of cooking fires and the ring of the armourers and blacksmiths broke the terrible stillness of the Plaguelands. Rather than enticing her to consider staying and settling into a mundane existence, Taliah felt pulled in the opposite direction. So many people seemed blissfully unaware of the evil to the North, and the paladin was determined to keep it that way.
The docks were disappointingly empty. Only one merchantman was tied to the slips and the ship didn't look as though she were in any shape to sail anytime soon. "We was attacked north o Menethil Harbour." The captain told her bitterly "We limped in with shredded sails, a hole in the port side fo'c'sle ye could throw a pony through, and ten crew less than what we started wit."
"Attacked by what?" Taliah warmed herself by a potbellied iron brazier in the dockmaster's shack.
"Naga." The weathered man spat into the fire. "First sightin I heard o in these waters fer nigh on thirty years. Ol' King Menethil, Light rest his soul, set the navy on 'em and s'posedly cleaned 'em out. 'Parently they missed a few." His bear was grey, shot through with ginger streaks and his moustache was yellowed from pipe smoke. The captain's face was tanned and deeply line, the countenance of a man who live in the sun and the salt spray of the ocean. His brows were bushy and white and seemed to move independently of each other like two fuzzy caterpillars, while his dark green eyes were hooded and hawk-like.
"The next ship isn't due in for almost a month, longer if they run into the same trouble as the Arcareena." The dockmaster grumbled, obviously unhappy. He was just as weathered at the merchant captain and older besides.
"What's your destination when you've finished repairs?" Taliah looked at the man sidelong. The captain snorted and looked at the cloaked woman critically.
"Once we get ourselves rerigged, we be heading south. I got three hundred bales o wool that needs be delivered, and no room for them that just takes up room, lassy." He harrumphed and took a deep drag of his pipe, blowing the smoke out his nose.
"How about room for two who're handy with a sword?" With a flick of her wrist, Taliah revealed the hand-and-a-half at her hip. The captain looked her up and down again, not seemingly impressed.
"Longs the number o fools carry a blade these days and shorts the number thet can actu'ly use 'em. Lemme see yer hands, girl." He said gruffly. The paladin pulled off her leather mittens and held out her hands for scrutiny. Captain Jarvas took the woman's hands in a firm grip, his thumbs running over her palms as though he expected them to be soft. One bushy brow rose as he inspected the calloused palms and fingers. Turning her hands over, he took in the scarred knuckles and heavy, engraved silver loop bearing an open hand on her ring left finger. "Ye be a paladin.."
"Aye, is that a problem?" Taliah asked dryly.
"No, but do ye have the coin for passage?" the old captain's eyes were shrewd and he chewed no his clay pipe. "I don't do charity work, though thet ring's worth a pretty penny."
"The ring is dear to me and not for barter. The only coin I have is my vow to protect your ship for as long as I'm aboard, Captain." The paladin replied with a shrug. "I've come a long way to get even this far, and I must make Stormwind with all due haste with my companion. If you'll not take us, I'll bloody well swim if I have to." The captain grinned and laughed.
"I tell ye wat, girl. Ye take an oath to protect me ship and crew, and confer blessin's on thems that ask, and I'll take ye to Stormwind as fast as the Arcareena will sail." The old man gruffed "But be warned, Lady. Me crew and meself be men o the sea, and while ye not be havin to worry about yer womanly honour on me ship, we be rough talkers and hard drinkers, and anyone we picks up to fill the empty berths in me crew roster will be likewise. I don't wanna be hearin complaints from ye about cussin or bawdy turns o phrase. I knows how ye paladins can be.." he held up a gnarled, calloused finger in warning. The paladin grinned.
"I don't think it'll be much of a fucking problem, good captain." Taliah inclined her head and held out her hand. The Captain took it in a firm grip that she returned "I'll be back in a few days to see how the repairs are going." The paladin turned and strode out, closing the door of the dockmaster's shack behind her.
"Ah.." Captain Jarvas sighed laughed "I think I be in love."
Taliah stopped next at the town hall and after some discreet enquiries, was directed to a thin, bookish man in his late forties with spectacles that sat too far down his slender nose. Kundric Zanden was the region historian and city clerk, she'd been told. If anyone knew the whereabouts of any extended family Thomas might have, it was he. He'd greeted her warmly and offered her tea as she explained why she'd sought him out.
"Oh dear, how terrible!" the man turned pale with shock. "The poor boy!" He turned to the immense bookcase behind him and Zanden tapped a finger to his lips as he fingered through old scrolls. "Geneology is a hobby of mine. I must have the Kreever family histories here somewhere."
"Kreever?" the name was not familiar, though it wouldn't have been, considering how long she'd been absent from the Hillsbrad area.
"Yes, Arvik Kreever and his five brothers came from the North as refugees after the... unpleasantness." The man made a face as though the words were sour on his tongue. Taliah guessed the 'unpleasantness' had been the plague and the fall of Capital City. "Ah, here it is." He pulled out a long vellum scroll and smoothed it over his desk. "Thomas Edvin Kreever. Born three years ago to Benathia Kreever, formerly Raston before she married Edvin Kreever, the third oldest son of Charsel Kreever, of Brill, deceased, son of-"
"Does the boy have any living relations?" Taliah cut off the studious little man as politely as she could. He looked flustered for a moment and shrugged.
"All of the Kreever clan went back North two springs ago. There were a close-knit family, from what I remember, and there just wasn't enough room for them here to plant crops. They came to town to trade regularly." Zanden's thin face drooped "And there were no survivors other than the boy, you say?" The paladin shook her head and the man began to make distracted notation next to the family tree as he muttered to himself about sad happenings. "The winter is going to be hard and the crops were poor this year. It will be difficult to find the boy a guardian willing to take him in."
The thought of sending the boy away to live with people who may not even wish to be burdened with him made Taliah positively heartsick. "I will take him." She said firmly though it came out of her mouth before her brain actually registered the implications. "The boy has been through enough trauma. I'll not see him foisted off on some stranger."
"Very well, young lady." The clerk looked her up and down and Taliah felt more than a little scrutinized in her borrowed clothing and battered boots. "I will note it in the town registry. Your name, and uh.. title if you have one..?"
"Taliah Dawnstar, paladin of the Order of the Silver Hand." At her words, the clerk's eyes widened and he inclined his head.
"Forgive my rudeness, Lady Dawnstar. I will transcribe your adoption of the boy immediately." Zanden plucked a fresh quill from the glazed clay jar on his desk and began to write with a flourish. "With your permission, I would also like to fill in some blanks on your family lineage chart. I know your mother, lovely, kind woman she is, but I've never had a chance to enquire as to.. um… your paternal line." Taliah was sure she'd just been asked in the most polite way possible if she were a bastard. When the corner of her right eye twitched and the man bit his lower lip and smiled disingenuously, she was sure.
"That is none of your concern, sir." She replied with a tight smile that told the man the conversation was over. "Thank you for your aid." The paladin turned on her heels in a swirl of grey woollen cloak and as she left the man's office, she inadvertently slammed the door behind her.
Thomas was sitting at the table and Necrucian was showing him how to cut his fried ham as Taliah stepped into the door and out of the cold. They didn't speak to each other, though the paladin kissed the boy on the brow in greeting and squatted by the fire to warm herself. Tetyana busied herself with a small iron pot over the fire and stirred the porridge bubbling within.
"Did you find a ship?" Her mother asked, trying to break the silence. The woman tried to smile as though talking about the weather.
"Aye, we leave in a two weeks, or as soon as they repair." The paladin replied emotionlessly "The captain accepted our protection as payment. Seems they had naga trouble on the leg in."
"Taliah, if it's coin you need, I can-" Tetyana swung the pot from the fire and pulled it from the hook with a thick wool mitt.
"I don't want his coin." Taliah cut her mother off a little more curtly than she'd intended and mentally kicked herself.
"You've naught but the clothes on your back." Tetyana protested, her normally serene tone coloured by frustration "You've no horse and no armour. Quit being so damnably stubborn and prideful and take help when it's offered. Does it really matter whose bloody coin it is? I have plenty of it and don't use it. You have none and need it. Seems like this isn't too complicated, or at least is shouldn't be."
"Why you mad, Tala?" Thomas looked over at the paladin with big blue eyes. He had a bit-sized piece of fried ham on the end of an iron fork and was trying to get the devilishly heavy thing to stop weaving long enough to stuff in his mouth. Necrucian took the fork from the boy and offered him the morsel. Thomas seemed to forget about the subject and chewed happily, his little hand resting on the big deathknight's gauntlet.
"And what of the boy?" Necrucian was beginning to understand where Taliah's tenacity came from. Apparently the paladin had inherited more than her mother's cheekbones. "Did you speak to the clerk?"
"Yes, I spoke to the nosy son-of-a-b.." she caught herself before she could finish "It is unlikely the boy has any living relations." Taliah sighed and ran a hand down her face as she stood and glanced at the boy as he ate.
"And?" her mother persisted "What becomes of him?" Tetyana asked doggedly and the paladin threw her hands in the air.
"And, I agreed to adopt the boy! Are you happy?" from the look on Tetyana's face the answer was obviously 'yes'. "I couldn't stomach the thought of him being shuffled off to some strangers who may not appreciate what he's already been through." she shook her head and pulled off her gloves with a sigh. "It's been transcribed in the town registry and it is official." Her mother's face lit up and she took Taliah's hands in her own.
"I'm so very happy for you, Taliah!" Tetyana's earlier annoyance with her offspring seemed to vanish, and she looked about as though searching for something "We must celebrate this! I'll make a cake and pull a roast of beef from the smokehouse! We'll have candied apples and cider wine!" She kissed her daughter on the cheek. "And presents! Thomas must have a gift or two, and some new clothing for this. We can celebrate it as though it were his birthday." The woman grabbed her cloak and nearly danced out the door. "I must go to town and get some things!" The paladin opened her mouth as though to stop her, but the door closed before she could get a word out.
"Bloody hell." Taliah grumbled. "Must she make a big deal out of this?"
"Why shouldn't she?" Necrucian put down the fork as Thomas finished his breakfast. "The poor woman gets her daughter back after three years and then has gained a grandson. She grieves Joscelin like a son and has worried after you since she agreed to have you fostered. Do you not think she deserves some happiness with the family she has been missing?" Taliah bristled out of habit but bit back the snarky reply that almost won free. Thomas looked between the paladin and the deathknight, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Tala, wat does 'adop' mean?" big blue eyes blinked up at her in question and she knelt by the boy's chair to look him in the eye.
"It means that we are now family." She replied, trying her best to explain things in a way that the boy would understand. Thomas' brow furrowed deeper as he mulled her words around in his head.
"Fam'ly?" the boy seemed to consider this "I'm yer Thomas now?" The paladin smiled at the child's frankness.
"Aye, if that's what you wish." Taliah took the linen napkin by the boy's plate and wiped the apple butter from the corner of his mouth.
"And that mean yer my new mommy?" Thomas tilted his head and gave her an almost critical look.
"Aye, if you wish, you can." She realized that her gut felt tight, as though she were worried the boy might think ill of her replacing his birthmother. Instead a he smile and held up his arms to her.
"Mommy!" Taliah felt the tears come, though she didn't really know why. Relief? Perhaps. Happiness? She hadn't had a moment of true happiness since the night before the battle of Light's Hope. She and Joscelin had shared what had been their last night together, celebrating the act of life in a place that now knew only death. In her grief, she still half-hoped that their last union would bear fruit and she silently berated herself for being foolish.
Taliah picked up Thomas and held him, kissing his cheek as the boy pointed at the deathknight "This mean Necrushun is my new daddy?" The paladin's face went blank in surprise, as did her eyes and she blinked as her cheeks coloured.
"Uh.. I.." she fumbled, but the deathknight chuckled and rescued her.
"I'm more of an uncle… from the side of the family everyone prefers not to think about."