This wasn't her push, she wasn't the high general anymore. This was Wyrmbane's command, she was here at his invitation.
She frowned, sliding a new copy of her most recent map out of a scroll tube and weighed it down on the table again, narrowing her eyes as she studied it. She already knew it, detail by detail, but that didn't matter. Icecrown was a dark blot to the Northwest, she'd had reports of the border areas gathered over the months she was transitioning between her last holdings in Northern Lordaeron and her fallback position south of where she stood. So close.
This was exactly what Darion had wanted to avoid, placing her within a handful of days easy travel right back to where he'd gotten her out of. She understood his concern, but this was the area of Northrend she was most familiar with. The path to the gates of Icecrown from Wintergarde was the same as the path she'd been studying for those months. The same as the reports she'd been reading since before she'd made her last trip from New Avalon.
I will not throw away this opportunity. It was a gift from Darion, he'd given her back the most precious thing she ever could have asked for...herself.
Am I up to this?
That was a more difficult question to answer. She'd prefer to have more time, more time to recover and more time to understand what she still had. The Light had never failed her, even when she had failed it, but that didn't mean she was this sort of combat ready, this sort of command ready. Wyrmbane was moving with a purpose, heading straight towards Icecrown...and Arthas. What little time she had left would be all tied up in moving with troops to the very foot of the Gates, the glacier itself. It had made sense for her to have settled down and built what she had here...because there was nowhere else for her people to have gone. They'd been backed into a corner here. But Wyrmbane had no reason to linger here, his people had no reason to dig in and fight for dirt they had no intention of keeping. They were here for the Lich King and she'd just have to be ready for it.
She sighed. It was just another fight. No matter how the details changed, that remained the same. It was almost comforting, yet so disconcerting. She was going to fight again, just a few leagues away from the last place that she had fought, and the main focus of her determination remained the same. That was comforting as long as she didn't look into it too deeply. As long as she just ignored exactly what she was doing...
I am doing what I should have done all along. If that means breaking a few bad eggs...
But wasn't that the exact same thought process that had gotten her into trouble in the first place? The same resolve that had corrupted her, crippled her?
I can't be a paladin without resolve.
If she was called to be almost anything else, she could go lightly into this, she could be cautious, wary of her own failings. Perhaps if she had more aptitude in healing, had a less confrontational nature, things would be better, maybe even easier.
Easy. I can't take the easy route.
No, somehow she had to balance who she was with what she was. And that had to start with letting go of who she had become, what she had become. She had to go back to herself, before she'd gotten lost. Whenever that had been, she still wasn't sure. If she tried to look back, to judge, it all just seemed so blurred and distant. She remembered it, but it didn't seem quite real anymore.
Was that good or bad? It would be easier to forget, but then she would learn nothing from what she'd done. What she'd been.
I need to have faith.
Faith. Faith in herself. Faith in those around her. Faith in her duty and her task here. Faith in the Light. She was still needed, she was still a paladin. That had to be enough now.
I have responsibilities.
Yes, she did. And they pulled her in two different directions. Her duty as a paladin put her exactly where she was. Her duty as a mother, as a daughter in law, pulled her in another. She couldn't...
No. She couldn't. But others could. Others would. That would mean taking one more step out of the comfortable corner she wanted to stay in. She could not ask Darion to extend himself further on her behalf, not in the way she needed him to. And even if he would, the chances it would go desperately wrong were too high. The only other person who would do it, immediately and without thought, was Tirion. But that meant telling him, even if in uncertain terms, that she was loose and alive. He already had the best chance of putting the pieces together, telling him that would simply seal it. But Tirion was not a fool. He'd figure it out quickly enough on his own and she'd never, ever forgive herself if she didn't act and something happened to her only surviving child now. That would be another tragedy and she'd lived through quite enough of those.
"Damnit." She sighed, pulling a sheet of vellum out from her travel desk, readying her pen and ink and sitting there for a long, long moment.
Tirion.
There is a great deal I cannot explain at the moment, but I will do my best. I know you have probably been informed of my 'death', but that news is false. I am in a place that I need to be at right now, to find my way back to you, the Order, and the Light.
Sadly, I must tell you that Lynnia has died at Tyr's Hand. I wish I could tell you this in person, but I cannot. Maybe one of these days we can..."
The words blurred and Bridge sighed, resting her forehead in her hand, taking a few deep breaths. It never truly got easier, the times between the overt pain got longer and longer, but it was always there. Her father had been gone for decades, and that was still there. Taelan had been gone for years, and that was always there. Lynnia's loss would be the same.
"...sit together again and hold each other up, as we used to do.
What I need to tell you now is that I believe that Brennan is still alive and I can't move to get him out of the Crusade from where I am now. The last I knew, he was moved from Tyr's Hand to a small encampment three days ride, almost due south of Hearthglen in the hills. It should be easy to recover him from there if done correctly, and I have faith that you will do it correctly.
I wish I had the words to express just how truly, abjectly devastated I am. Sorry is not enough and it will never be enough. Please, please get him out of there, for you, me, him. He is not safe there. He will be even less safe once I am found to be alive.
With deepest love and regret,
Brigitte."
She shook sand on it and folded it immediately. There was no time to consider and reconsider, it had to be done. And it was gone the very moment she dropped her hand to the side of her chair, the letter dangling for a split second from her fingers, before there was nothing.
