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Chapter 24: Gunslinger's Glory, Part 2
Tempest smirked, "You know, maybe Arthas is suspiciously armed for a royal gathering and he does looks dangerous but ah, I might go over and say hi."
Pyorin eyed her, "Let me guess, your intentions are pure and you want to make friends."
"Do you dare me?" She gained a strange predatory, yet jubilant look.
Britecleff snatched Tempest's arm next, "Oh no you don't! Not while wearing my only protection on your belt."
The announcement came that the shooting grounds were officially open. Trumpets, fanfare, champagne corks popping. A few people ducked heads at the sound. There were more than enough guns around to justify it.
Britecleff muttered and looked around the crowd, "Trust me, when things do get started, it's going to be a lot noisier than that." He signaled for Tempest and Pyorin to follow. The three of them kept together, tried to look natural, even like they were having a good time. But they were assuredly, not.
Tempest checked back to see where Sunthraze was. He gave her a big, obvious wink that she raised eyebrows at.
Britecleff eventually tried to return to some semblance of light conversation, for his nerves. "Anything else interesting that I'm missing?"
Tempest smirked, "Bold of Sylvanas to bring Arthas to the palace with her."
Pyorin wondered, "What do you mean? Oh, that they arrived together at all? Well, she might have just been his escort."
Then, Tempest gave into snickering. "Alright, good one."
Britecleff's temper flared again. "No jokes, especially not about that."
Tempest shrugged, "Alright, but it's not as if it's never crossed anyone's mind."
Britecleff furrowed his brow. "That would be selfish, dangerous, and immature of Sylvanas to do. Put her pleasure ahead of our politics, the kingdom's safety. The Humans are in deep enough shit with the Plague going on, and Anasterian has forbidden us to get anymore involved." He almost growled when he had ot lower his voice. "I disagree with a lot, as you all know, but that one ruling of his is solid. That would unnecessarily divert the military and drain our resources. Sylvanas becoming romantically involved, beholden to Arthas and the Humans in any way? That would instantly compromise Silvermoon's position. Not to speak of how it colors our whole…" He didn't want to say the word 'rebellion' and in this company he never really had to. He pulled Tempest in again when she tried to look everywhere except for at her commander, who had gotten into what felt like a lecture. "Listen. We just want stability. I want it known, and fully understood that there is nothing about our movement that involves throwing this kingdom into the same chaos the Humans are mired in. We have no intention of running things that way, alright? We are better than the Humans. When Kael'thas is brought to the throne, we intend to offer our people far better. Sylvanas would know that. She'd stay focused on that."
Pyorin muttered under his breath, "Alright. But I wasn't making a joke though..."
Sunthraze somehow caught up with them, within his little group of excited, chatting nobles. The whole place was walking down the grand hallway to big doors that were being held open by servants in bright blue livery. Daylight washed over all the Quel'dorei as they soon passed through into the royal gardens.
Sunthraze raised wild red eyebrows at Britecleff, "Well, fancy meeting you here Commander B. Artanyan Britecleff? I hear you're shooting at this thing!"
"I'm about to shoot at that thing on your neck in a minute."
Sunthraze felt his neck for a fly or some other insect now that they were all outside.
Daphne came and joined them, "He means your head, Sunthraze."
"Okay, that was rude."
Britecleff eyed everyone in his little group now that Daphne had joined. Sunthraze had an excuse to linger with a fellow noble with Daphne there. Sunthraze caught on and stood at a friendly closeness with Daphne, pretended to introduce himself to her.
"Alright. Well done, phase one is complete. We all made it in. Or out, outside into the garden. But now we need to spread across this whole green and look like we're actually enjoying the event. I know your big moment will be when Kael'thas arrives, Sunthraze. But try not to think of it. We're all here for you. We're all ready to support you."
Sunthraze had to cover his face and take a breath.
Tempest slipped her arm away from Britecleff. "Oh, right. Now that we're on the official hunting ground…" Tempest then turned, undid the belt and handed Britecleff the blue holster with his silver pistol in it, "Here ya go. Now I'm free to roam. Right?"
Britecleff didn't want to take it, but in the end he got it in his hand and with a marksman's deftness, he latched the belt on, checked it and the gun. Daphne patted Britecleff's arm.
He gritted his teeth. "Alright, mix in with the party. But I really want you to keep your eye on me in case there's any trouble I can't handle, and then watch out for Sunthraze. Most of all, keep your eyes on Kael'thas since Arthas decided to bring a rifle that obliterates his target into bits that not even a lich can raise from the dead."
Daphne was shocked, "Is that what he has? I thought it was some family heirloom!"
Pyorin looked Daphne over in her pink dress. "Coral. Very lovely on you."
She blinked, not ready for the compliment. "…Thank you."
Britecleff stared ahead, at his competition. For some reason, King Anasterian and Prince Arthas had been chummy the entire time, exchanging smiles and no doubt rude jokes, oweing to both their reputedly raunchy personalities. Hard not to wonder if they had actually spoken about the Plague to one another. The one point those two differed on the most. But leave it to royalty to find a way to manage a fancy party nonetheless.
Sunthraze saw it, too. Royalty were such different animals, so privileged. It was a wonder to take in, seeing Anasterian and Arthas—the real Anasterian and Arthas in the flesh, and even talking to one another. "Maybe Kael'thas decided not to come. He is the prince. The Prince of Quel'thalas, the royal heir. No one would really obligate him to. Who could demand that Kael'thas show up."
A new, deep voice joined in their conversation, "He'd be the biggest pussy if he didn't."
Pyorin gave a warm smile immediately, "Hey! Fennore! Guys, this is Fennore. He saved me ass a couple times. Well, socially."
"Indeed I did. I'm the one who told him to um, what was it? Unburden himself, his chakras, and forgive you, Sunthraze. I do believe it led to you being freed from prison."
Sunthraze's hackles rose just looking at this tall, very pale-skinned, blonde Elf. There was something dark about this one, something not quite right.
Sunthraze edged back, though he tried to remain polite. "I guess I should thank you."
Pyorin laughed, "Fennore, did I tell you-Sunthraze thanked me already in the prison cell by trying to flirt with me."
Britecleff was instantly annoyed. "When did this happen."
"Don't make it sound like that, Pyorin." Sunthraze narrowed his eyes at him, "It was just a joke."
Tempest piped in, "Alright, I really am going to go say Hi to Prince Arthas. Wish me luck!"
Daphne squeaked, "Oh, I'm so jealous! Can I come?"
Fennore grinned while everyone spoke excitedly at once, "Oh, do tell Sunthraze the sly? Was it really 'just a joke'? Sometimes, in my experience, people tend to repress things, but extreme situations, like being locked up in a lonely prison cell for ages, tend to draw these urges out."
"What did you just call me?"
"Well, you are pretty sly aren't you? I heard about the scandalous business that brought Sylvanas straight back to Silvermoon after her dalliance in Stormwind. And how you somehow danced your way out of it. With a little help of course." He nodded over at Pyorin.
Meanwhile, Daphne tried to get away, too. "Bart! Let's go say hi to Arthas."
"It isn't going to be a hello—we're shooting against each other!" But Britecleff was getting dragged away nonetheless. Daphne was eager to get there in time to watch Tempest show off and flirt with the Human prince.
This left the three men together. Pyorin grinned at Fennore. Sunthraze was already scowling at Fennore.
Fennore put in hopefully, "So Sunthraze, who do you have your money on this eve? Britecleff or…"
"As if I had money to bet."
Pyorin shook his head at him, still all smiles. "Just say you're betting. It's fun to just play the game, Sunthraze."
"If I have to use my head to bet? Hrm…" Sunthraze looked at the contestants starting to line up. Anasterian, Prince Arthas, Britecleff, and several others. "Wow. I hear Lor'themar is a really excellent shot, and he's over there. Damn, that's going to be a tight competition."
"Where's Nathanos?" Tempest worried.
"Yeah, people keep asking that." Sunthraze shrugged that he didn't care.
Pyorin crossed his arms. "Doesn't matter. Anasterian is going to win, of course. Because he's the king."
Fennore lifted an instructive finger. "Ah, but Prince Arthas Menethil is the royal guest. And his kingdom is in distress. Arthas sacrificed a great deal to come here today. They may try to favor him with a win."
"I think that gun would win him pretty much anything." Pyorin turned down the side of his mouth, "Or, anyone. You know, I find it interesting that I overheard Tempest saying she was going to go and try picking up Prince Arthas but then I had no real reaction. No trigger, no pang of jealousy. We're supposed to be dating."
Sunthraze gave up guessing the winner, for the moment. "Yeah, why are you treating Prince Arthas better than me when it comes to her?"
"That reminds me, Sunthraze. I do hate you." Pyorin turned on his heel and left.
And so Fennore and Sunthraze remained alone together.
"Well. I know that politics will inevitably get involved…" Fennore smiled wistfully, "But I am going to gamble using my heart. I believe that Britecleff will win. He is the people's champion."
"Funny how the people turned all the way around and championed a man who wrongfully arrested me while he was trespassing on my land. Look, they're over there cheering for him."
And a few cheers and light claps did rise up, as Daphne came up towing her man with her arm linked in his. Britcleff straightened at the encouraging reception he was getting, he had to. He pretended with everything he had that he wanted to be there in that moment, waved back to a few people among King Anasterian's cadre nearby.
"Ah, but I have a sense that you admire Britecleff as well. And how could anyone not do so today? In his Farstrider uniform, with doe-eyed Lady Daphne Weaver on his arm. She introduces him so smoothly to everyone, do you see? I don't care what anyone at Court says. I deem them a charming, in fact! The most perfect couple."
Sunthraze got a feeling then, looking at Britecleff. How painful it must all be for him. Striving his best, with so many forces against him and his love. And Britecelff and Daphne only wanted one simple thing from one another, to be together.
"Wait. Are you going to tell me to unclog my chakras or something weird? Like you told Pyorin?"
Fennore blinked at Sunthraze. "Oh, that. Well, honestly? I'm glad Pyorin derived some inspiration from it in the end. But when it all started, I was just messing with the man. I made him cough for me and everything while I so-called 'examined' him. Like a physician of the Light? Come on, as if there is even such a thing. He thought I was going to grab his balls."
Sunthraze blurt out hard laughter all of a sudden. His eyes began to sting. "Oh my… for the love of! HA!"
"It's always fun to mess with brand new… well." He couldn't say paladins. Fennore winked instead. "I wonder how I should mess with you, though."
"Yeah, I'm not one of them. Britecleff's chosen ones. His golden children." Sunthraze grinned, but rolled his eyes. "And I never, ever will be. Britecleff does keep trying to recruit me, though."
"He probably wants to keep you silent, ontop of everything else. I'm sure Britecleff wouldn't try to recruit a man totally lacking in potential, now would he? And, now that we've met and I'm standing close to you, our bodies bound to touch—" Fennore grinned at Sunthraze getting edgy on him again, "The fields between our corporeal forms, I mean. There is a benign energy in every living thing, didn't you know? It does not rotate on a linear axis, such as frost or fire magic, the powers a mage may use. No, it's more ethereal. On another plane of existence, such as music. It is endemic to all life, the Light. In a way, life is the Light."
"So, you're sensing the Light between us. Or, some energy field made of Light. Unless you're trying to confuse me and blind me with science. And let me guess, right before you drop me into the real con."
"Not science, magic. Oh, I've already sensed it. Moments ago, right when I first strutted up to you."
"How fun. You know, whatever trick you think you're going to play on me next…"
"I sensed that Light magic is your destiny, Sunthraze. My message to you, is that it's useless for you to hide from it."
"I'm remembering now that Britecleff said for us to spread out. Way out. So, I'm gonna go—"
"When the Light comes for you brother, do not hide and so make yourself smaller. Roar back. Loud! And make yourself as large as you can possibly be. The Light is not some dog that will eventually get bored of baying pitifully, digging you out from your little borrow beneath the tree, and go away for a sure and warm dinner by his master's side, at home."
"Okay, I said. Sheesh!"
"Sunthraze, the Light is wild and ferocious, like a lion. It lives and rules everywhere, it finds a meal in nearly every living thing, as I've told you. Only a bigger threat will impress it! Therefore, let the power of retribution at being wronged by those others, what I feel in you now, that rage within you—let it burn. When the time comes, and none of us humble mortals knows the hour, mind. But roar let it burn it bright and let it guide you, brother!"
Sunthraze fully went, walking away as fast as possible. Zealous Fennore was starting to call out to him over many heads, and so he stopped. Fennore then folded hands behind his back, cleared his throat. Attempted to walk out from under the people staring at him now, too.
It wasn't long after that a palace servant, some grand, dressed-up master of ceremonies in a tall golden hat, announced that the 'greatest shot in the empire' had arrived. This caused Arthas to notice Britecleff at last. Arthas whispered something over to Sylvanas, and then she offered a hand out, began to escort the Human prince over that way. They also sort of left Tempest standing, where she had been chattering away, with a glass of champagne in her hand. Sylvanas took the untouched glass of champagne out of Arthas' hand, gave it back to Tempest.
Tempest purred to herself after they were gone. "Why are the icy bad boys always the most fun?" Then aloud, "Maybe I'll buy you another drink some time, eh?" She went up on her toes, "Maybe sometime when I'm in Goldshire!"
Britecleff hated Arthas for a number of reasons. But Britecleff also felt sure many of those reasons were shared with a lot of other Highborne who also disliked Arthas, the future king of their often selfish and oblivious Human neighbors.
When Sylvanas and Arthas arrived, Britecleff was shocked to see none of the unease on Sylvanas' face from the time he visited her family estate. In fact, she seemed genuinely happy, brighter than he had ever known her to be. Sylvanas stood next to Daphne, leaned in gently, drew Britecleff and Arthas into light conversation, tried to point out the things they each had in common and tried to get them to befriend each other, the whole run of courtly manners. As if they were all overdue to become best friends. It was… so odd.
Britecleff hardly knew where he was or what was happening while the strange conversation was going down between himself, his fiancé, and his demanding boss and her date the rueful Human prince. Britecleff found his heart was racing like mad. Britecleff studied the actual features of Arthas' face now that he was up close, then his musculature, noting Arthas' personal scent or his cologne, the size of his shoes, anything to get a sense of his rival, fast. Britecleff just couldn't shake the instinct that this was some sort of smokescreen and that something worse was about to go down. And he also found himself just nervously saying whatever Sylvanas seemed to guide him toward, about his interest in shooting, his Farstrider military career, the latest victories over the Amani Trolls.
"Ah, the Trolls." The Human prince said, and then at last, it all slowed down.
Arthas had said plenty more than that. But for some reason, it was the only thing Britecleff really heard. He was that on edge dealing with this big, intimidating Human man. No, it wasn't anxiety, not really fear. Britecleff had a strong sense that there was more to Arthas' presence at the event. And it was very high stakes, whatever Arthas was really about. And, Arthas' secret plot, whatever it was, had already far out of his control. Britecleff's gut just told him and told him that.
The line about the Trolls somehow felt like a joke. Arthas was amused. Very unimpressed and so he found amusement in it. In all of this.
Britecleff felt he should say something. He felt very strongly that either he or Sylvanas should say something to defend the Farstriders in that moment. But no one said anything for a while. Even Daphne seemed stuck.
Then, Sylvanas had to leave. One of the other Farstrider officers wanted to speak with her, so she excused herself. That was when it happened, when it all tragically came together. For a moment, for the briefest moment, Arthas's gaze followed Sylvanas' cheek. Like he wanted to kiss Sylvanas goodbye before she went. It was so familiar. It was what Britecleff did with Daphne, what any man did with a woman he adored and had won the right with. A privilege very rarely neglected when a man was with a woman he wanted, especially with a woman as beautiful as Sylvanas.
It was then that Britecleff knew. Many had suspected. There were plenty of rumors, lies. Britecleff had some suppositions cross his mind as well but he had hoped the best of Sylvanas in such a situation, pushed such things aside. Even in his own soldiers. Weren't Tempest and Pyorin just making cracks about it? But he had reproached them. He'd foolishly reproached them. But now, it was undeniable for even Britecleff. Obviously, Sylvanas had allowed Arthas to kiss her many times already.
No, Arthas did not do it now. Arthas had saved himself from it at the last moment. But evenso, it was too late for him.
When their eyes met again, Britecleff was icy cold. He could not help how strongly he felt against it. That was clear.
Arthas looked down at the gravel beneath their polished boots momentarily. The silver gravel spread out around the palace until it ran up to the manicured grass and wildflowers scattered thoughtfully at the brinks of the great field ahead of them, and beyond were pale-colored trees, just kissed with gold.
Arthas' feet were bigger, and the black boots were also edged in silver tips, buckles. Britcleff was in ivy leathern Farstrider boots, and he shifted his weight, impatiently.
Arthas was sure of how he'd just erred. Sure that he was now dealing with a man, Britecleff, who would never let him get away with it.
Britecleff rested a hand on his gun in its holster.
Arthas lifted his chin. He hadn't shaved that morning. But it darkened his chin and jaw handsomely.
"Bart, don't—"
Arthas grinned at Daphne, without looking at her. "I don't believe he was going to do anything."
Britecleff was too angry to respond. Not, yet.
The contestants were called up to the line, to begin the shoot. Daphne kissed Britecleff good luck, while Arthas couldn't help casting another look back at Sylvanas. Though she was busy speaking with someone else, she sensed him as well, that he needed to see her. Sylvanas' eyes followed the ground at his feet, then eventually locked with his.
The two men walked together, not because they wanted to. But they were already beside each other anyway.
Britecleff spoke in a normal tone, once they were away from the main crowd. "Well… I suppose you'll need a queen as well as a mistress, anyway. Most Human kings do."
Arthas returned just as quickly, "And why stop at one? The Highborne king surely hasn't." Then, Arthas gestured too casually, "Aren't half of them here, today?"
Britecleff made a fist. Clenched his jaw. But it needed to be said, for his dignity, for the dignity of Quel'thalas. "You disgust me."
