(5) The First Call
"Don't you think you were a little harsh with the Prince?" Morgana asked as they exited out of the Keep.
"Sweetheart, I've been going back and forth with that boy for months; years even," Farron started as he opened the door to his home. "He'll be King one day but doesn't fit the crown due to all his childish fantasies."
"But aren't you afraid he'll find a replacement for you?" Morgana asked, carrying Mercy's case inside.
Farron stiffened a laugh through his nose. He then got very close to Morgana staring her in the eye as the door closed behind her. She was pinned and about to get a very important lesson.
"Honey, I could spit on Anduin's face in front of Varian and still have a job the next day," Farron spoke using informal names. "That is how invaluable I am to Stormwind and the Guard. Which should be your goal as well."
Morgana paused, "To be so valuable they could never be rid of me?"
Farron smiled slowly pulling away from her, "That's my girl."
I could never spit on anyone, Morgana thought remembering her place in society. That would be death row for me.
"Get some rest," Farron sighed sitting down at one of his lab tables. "We'll work on your flick tomorrow."
Morgana nodded, keeping her gaze low walking to the stairs. It was her civic duty to be ready for war at all times; she slept in the same leather as she wore during the day. Tonight proved to be different and she already knew she'd get lectured about it tomorrow.
She curled up on the tiny bed in the corner of the room facing the wall as she usually did. Her father didn't have the space for her to have her own room, so it was either sleep in the lab or in the slightly warmer bedroom across from him. She often stared off into the distance hearing her father grumble and move about in the lab until she drifted off to sleep.
What could I have done better?
Everything.
"Up," Farron called to her as he opened the door to his room.
Morgana woke with a start feeling her heart suddenly racing in her chest. Years of training out in the forest gave her adrenaline spikes as she woke in case of any imminent danger. She flipped off the covers and rose to her feet feeling slightly light headed as she continued down the stairs following her father.
"Dress to kill," Morgan ordered her standing in the doorway.
Morgana knew what he meant but was still slightly bewildered, "I… I thought-"
She was under the impression today was a training day; not a call to action day.
"Change of plans," Farron sighed. "Our services are needed aboard the main sky fleet carrying an army and royalty to the battlegrounds."
Farron's sniper dreams were still fresh and not much had been put into action yet. Morgana was his only pupil. The fact that they had been summoned by the King himself for this task was a huge opportunity for Farron; Morgana knew she'd have to impress everyone with her skills.
"As you wish," she said, lowering her head.
"I've taken most of our things to the fleet, carry Mercy to the harbor and you'll see the fleet in the sky waiting," Farron ordered. "They have a few griffins waiting for us."
"Two, or Five?" Morgana asked.
"I've already got Five up there, take Two," Farron answered.
Morgana made her way to the Harbor trying not to hobble carrying Mercy's case. Mercy 2.0 was lighter but still a dense case with everything it had in it. She mounted the griffin and clutched into its reins for life; though she was a sniper in training, her slight fear of heights wasn't so slight when on mounts that moved beneath her. A lack of control or non-sturdy moving grounds made her uneasy.
She sighed heavily as she dismounted the griffin swinging Mercy down from the mount. As she did, she nearly dropped the case entirely turning away from the mount. Taking a moment she hoisted the case up seeing three royals before her. Her eyes went wide for a moment as they all had their eyes on her before she lowered her head and held the case still.
"Majesties," she said under her breath, slightly bending at the knee.
High King Varian Wrynn, Prince Anduin Wrynn, and King Greymane all stood before her. Her mind raced as she desperately tried to remember the rules of addressing royalty. She kept her head low seeing the corner of the fleet where Farron had set up some of his equipment moving in that direction.
"You must be Morgana," Greymane spoke, causing Morgana to halt entirely. "Your father has high expectations of you."
She never looked up. Regardless if Greymane was being friendly or not, Morgana was forbidden to respond to royalty. Morgana stood there, respectfully, waiting for him to finish addressing her; if she walked away too soon, it would be highly disrespectful.
She could feel all of them; all their eyes on her. Morgana couldn't offer a response and the situation grew more uncomfortable for her. She was glad her hair hung around her face hiding her discomfort as the three men continued to try and hold a conversation with her.
"Were you the shadow that night?" Prince Anduin asked, stepping forward.
Morgan's heart rate spiked. She spoke to the Prince that night, breaking too many rules Stormwind had set for her, if the Prince deemed their conversation inappropriate to the right people, Morgana could be thrown into the Stockade or worse.
"Shadow?" King Varian asked his son.
"She was the one on guard that night that stopped a potential bandit from entering the Keep," Anduin explained. "She said-"
"Gentlemen," Farron interrupted, dismounting from a griffin, saving Morgana from anymore shame and regret. "I take it now would be a good time to inform me of our destination."
A moment of silence.
"I'll take it from here, Morgana," Farron spoke to her. "Finish setting up and getting your gear on."
She bowed one more time before reluctantly racing over to where Farron already had his equipment. She was frantic and she set Mercy down. Her hands shook before her as she attempted to put Mercy 2.0 together.
Stupid girl, talking to royalty like they're going to forget a mysterious encounter.
She knelt down then clenching her hands into fists, "Just don't ever look at him."
Or talk to him, or think about him, or remember how dumb you were to respond and hold a conversation with him.
She began slowly building Mercy 2.0 and she felt the fleet start to move beneath her.
"Just forget about it," she repeated to herself under her breath.
But he knows your name now.
Morgana gasped looking around frantically. No one was around her nor looking at her.
She sighed, closing her eyes and rubbing her temples, "Don't."
Morgana was starting to lose focus, lose discipline, she was starting to dream again; fantasize. She was starting to stay from the path her father had created for her. Her mind was now wondering; unhinged. All the things he never wanted her to take part in and everything her mother said was normal.
She finished building Mercy and then moved onto her attire. Morgana fastened a lower body harness on with everything she needed for her role in the King's Army. One side held a quick hand pistol for close enemies, many rounds of ammunition for any sniper she held, and a few daggers for any super close combat moments. On the other side was a whip, different ammunition than the other side, and vials of potions her father had made to enhance her performance.
"Have you finished?" Farron asked, walking over to her.
She spun abruptly then hearing anger in his voice. His previous conversation must not have gone well and Morgana did not want to be on the receiving end of that building frustration.
"Yes, Farron," she answered. His name was Farron on the field. He only allowed her to address him as her father in private.
"Good," he responded before reaching into his bags. "One more thing to further complete your attire."
It was a bracer; one single thick bracer. Morgana took it and examined it. The brace was in fact a grapple shot with a hook at the end. Designed to hook up to higher points to snipe at and have the ability to carry Morgana with her full gear on. She'd used it sparingly before, but only due to the fact her father was attempting to perfect it.
"Can it carry me?" Morgana asked, already knowing the answer.
"Of course," Farron smiled.
"With Mercy?" she asked again, impressed.
"Exciting, isn't it?" Farron answered, a distinct gleam in his eyes.