The Romancer Greatfather Winter:
Lots of people think that I, Greatfather Winter, have supernatural powers: that is, I can read people's minds, or that I'm omniscient or something. Well, let me tell you that hiding ontop of the Cathedral of Light, while mounted on a red nosed reindeer–that cannot fly by the way–and simultaneously balancing a Mind Control cap on my head is not the way I like to work. It's a pity that was the only way I could think of to keep Alessandre from spoiling Opalbane's Winter Veil present: by physically forcing him not to take advantage of her. Instead, she got the kind of kindness she needs, and I've succeeded in guilting Alessandre out of a pleasurable Winter's Veil in the tavern. That's what he gets for being such a Greench!
I like to act in more subtle ways, like switching double agent Evensong's letters around or convincing those druids that Alessandre knew how to get to the Gallina Winery so that he'd be intercepted just in time to change course and pass by a certain dress shop. And then, sometimes I'm very subtle and calculating, like when I had one of my gnomes open Wisthera's mail for weeks before Winter's Veil so that she'd get suspicious and start having it sent to Darkshore, near the ocean. All that to ensure that a certain letter was waterlogged enough so that she wouldn't be able to guess the sender easily. But, showing up in broad daylight in the middle of the Cathedral of Light? Not my style. I'm more of a manipulating events so that they look like coincidences or miracles type of guy. It's that inane fad that is forcing me to be more proactive this year, though. Just whose idea was it to start sending Winter's Veil presents without return addresses on them? It's forced me to come out in the open and unravel a complex and annoying case of misgifting. Now, I have to work extra hard to make sure that those on my Nice list get the gifts they deserve, and those on my Naughty list get what's coming to them.
To be honest, I can't see you when your sleeping, and danged if I know when your awake, laddies! It's so cold in Winterspring, I barely get out of bed some days, so why in Azeroth would I want some evildoer's naughty deeds keeping me up at all hours of the day and night when I'm supposed to be warm and resting under the blankets? That time I saw Alessandre stealthed in the tree was sheer luck. In fact, I was on my way to the Dwarven District to hire a hunter to track that rogue for me. My gnomes tell me that hunters are pretty good at tracking all kinds of things. The truth is, I'm just your average guy, a bit on the immortal side with bulk like Ursius to keep me warm in Winterspring, but mostly just a normal dwarf like you or anyone else. When I have to do my job, I keep my ears open. I sit back in the taverns of Ironforge, or my gnomes go to Stormwind, hide in Gadgetzan, or pay some drunk orc in Orgrimmar to listen to all the rumors. That is how I know who's been naughty or nice at the end of the season.
And did you also know how noisy Darnassus was this year? Grumblings at the Cenarion Enclave and among priestesses at the Temple of Elune wafted up the continent like no body's business! Though I tried to pay attention to all the other little heroic girls and boys, I kept hearing these names over and over: Shadowstep, Feathershine, Alessandre, Wisthera, Onyxbane, and Opalbane whom they called the cultist. I had my gnomes do a bit of investigation and they found out that all these Night Elves were in dire need of some guidance this season. A human mage, Willypearl, and an old god named Zar'teaus had gotten mixed up in their foolishness as well. The assassin, Alessandre, was especially in a lot of trouble. Did you know that he's a rogue as well as a druid? Did you also know that women are falling all over him and he doesn't even do anything to deserve it? And he mixes his lights with his darks and not one white sock of his has ever been ruined? Yeah, you heard me! And rogues have so much dark clothing too...
...But I'm getting off topic. My point is, someone had to bust Alessandre down a notch. Especially on the issue of women. During the holidays, I can always look forward to your pretty girl who sits in my lap and asks for presents now and again. But that's just in Ironforge, I can't be everywhere at once you know. So, I couldn't let something like this stand, because of that and... oh yeah, because it's my job.
So, how did I sort out the snobby Priestess of Elune, the sneaky Master Rogue Shadowstep, the train wreck Opalbane, the wily con artist Wisthera, the semi pediphilic old god Zar'teaus, the human Willypearl with a Night Elf fetish, and that undeservedly dashing dichotomy of dysfunction and devlish charm Alessandre? This year, it was especially hard work keeping my list straight but I think I finally figured it all out. I'd love to tell you, but that's no fun is it?
Have a look for yourself:
On the Eve of Winter's Veil, Knight Elec Pontier of the Silver Hand found a way to steal his fiancé away from his overbearing mother-in-law for a private moment. It was close to midnight and would be the first time they had any privacy in days, with the wedding preparations and family managing to keep the two so far apart at all times.
"Elec, honey, you haven't even touched your tea... is something wrong? Are you angry with me?" Willypearl asked. The human mage tucked the edge of her stylish bob behind her ear nervously.
"No, why would you think that darling?" Elec had taken off his gold plate after a hard day's work of patrolling Elwynn Forest and running errands for his own wedding. Though he'd settled into a simple finely made shirt and slacks for the evening, his confident posture gave the presence of a paladin: proudly mounted atop his trusty white charger with majestic gold plate griffons perched on his shoulders.
"I don't know... maybe it's your mother gettin' to me. She's always sayin' that I'm not good enough for you, honey. And I was startin' to think that maybe she's right. Bein' in this family is tough, it's just too much pressure. Maybe we shouldn't–"
"Willy! I'm not going to let you break this off. I care about you too much." Elec snatched his fiance's hands from around her teacup and held them fast. "I've fought for you since Westfall, and no one, not even my own family is going to make me let you go. Unless... unless you are still in love with that Onyxbane? I thought we talked and settled that weeks ago when you got back from Silithus."
Willypearl panicked then. She tried to withdraw her hands from Elec, but he wouldn't let her go. Finally, the charming mage took a deep breath like she was going to confess something terrible and said, "Elec, there's something you should know–"
"Panties!" Lady Barillabine Pointier screamed and burst into the parlor just then.
"Mother! I told you that Willy and I were to be alone tonight!" Elec pleaded.
"Panties... lingerie... men's underwear... our name RUINED. RUUUUINNNNED!" Barillabine was screaming. "How could you, how could you dare to do this to us?"
"I didn't do anything–" Willy defended herself.
Elec was about to argue the same when his mother tossed something red and holy–and not in the paladin way-- in his face. A few moments of angry scrutiny later and he realized what they were.
"Mother, where did you get these!" He demanded.
"In her room! This despicable child, this slack jawed yokel has boxes of them, boxes! And they are in Stormwind too, right in the Trade District. I go shopping for Winter's Veil presents today, like I always do, and there are women everywhere screaming and fighting over this new merchandise. I ask the shopkeeper what the fuss is about, and do you know what she tells me?"
Willypearl cringed.
"That a woman named Willypearl made these for a male Night Elf she's in love with! Can you believe it? And everyone in the Silver Hand knows you two are engaged to be married. The paladins will never forgive this scandal!"
"Willy, is that true?" Elec let go of Willypearl's hands. He was a dashing knight in shining armor, even without the armor. He looked ready to forgive her, eager to sweep in and save her again if only she would give him just one reason why she was worth saving.
Willypearl sighed heavily. "It's true, but you've got it all wrong."
"No? Well then explain this! It's for that Obsidian fellow, isn't it?" The rotund Barillabine triumphantly whipped out another pair of the underwear–had she feared someone would try to destroy the lone copy of her evidence she'd brought?–and showed Elec the tag inside. The pink label was finely embroidered with the name Willypearl in silken black thread.
"For the last time, his name is Onyxbane! And, what am I supposed to do? Let other people claim my good work?"
"You are not marrying my son! Come the Legion or high waters, I swear to the Light that you are not marrying my Elec! Guards! Where are the patrollers–"
But Elec didn't hear what his mother was saying. Heartbroken, his gaze was fixed on his precious Willypearl.
"Willy," he asked in a dejected low voice, "I thought you made those for me... you measured me and everything."
Barillabine stopped shouting at that point. Some guards began to push the door open, but she rested her bulk against it. "Son, what did you just say?"
Willypearl rolled her eyes at her mother in law. "If you're gonna insist on gettin' into things that ain't your business than I guess you deserve to be embarrassed for a moment, right Elec?"
Elec groaned and covered his face with his hands, ashamed.
"When I moved in here from that desolate ranch the Defias left me in Westfall, I brought everything I had with me, including some... dresses and such that I'd made back when I was confused about my feelings for your son. Of course, Elec saw the kinds of stuff I made and he wanted me to get rid of it. So I did."
"But the woman in the store said you made this despicable item to fit a..." Barillabine shuddered, "...a male Night Elf."
On the other side of the door, the family guard were pounding and shouting for Willypearl to come out. Barillabine was able to hold them back, but just barely.
"Yes... but that's only what I told the shopkeeper. No place I went wanted to buy the dresses off of me and I had to say something to convince her. I wasn't gonna just throw this stuff away either, cause I spent a donkeyload of money on the materials."
"Donkeyload?" Barillabine raised her eyebrow critically.
Willypearl ignored the insistent criticism of her Westfall accent and use of country slang. "I figured that I had to turn the whole set into something irresistible, you know, create a showstopper of sorts. Oh, and give it a theme."
"So that's what the project was for. Is that what you were trying to tell me, Willy?" Elec asked.
Willypearl nodded. "I was afraid you might take it the wrong way, but you see, I wanted to get rid of all that junk."
"What are you going on and on about child? I am going to let the guard in this door and they are going to drag you out in shackles if you don't start making sense!" Barillabine threatened.
"I made that underwear for your son! I came back here and figured that maybe men's underwear would go well with all the dresses I made, and could, you know, tempt a whole new group of patrons. No one makes anything like this for men. So, I told Elec I was working on a new project and stretched some fabric over him and..." Willypearl couldn't finish the rest. She met Elec's wistful smile with her own.
"What, are you telling me that... Elec! I'm surprised at you. Men of your order are supposed to wait for marriage. Don't tell me that this disgusting piece of clothing enticed you–"
"Mother!" Elec stood up then. "Do you see how torturing Willypearl finally pushed you off the deep end? You insist that she is not good enough for me. You even convinced yourself of it, and when you went to that store you believed what the shopkeeper told you, instead of coming to us first. If you had, then you wouldn't be prying into my sex life right now, which is none of your business by the way!" Elec had a deep, authoritative voice, but it flew up in pitch at the end of his tirade, as if in this embarrassing moment, he was reverting to similarly traumatic moments of his boyhood.
"So, I didn't tell Elec what it was for, exactly. But it didn't matter. When I came back with that underwear the shopkeeper eagerly bought all those old clothes from me. And my little fib about the extra large male Night Elf size really helped. Recently, she's been asking for more, so I've had to make those in addition to my wedding dress."
Barillabine stretched both arms out over the door, fiercely holding back the guards who had certainly eavesdropped at this point, whether or not she'd wanted them to. "Elec, you aren't even angry with her for lying to you? Doesn't this story have some foundation? Aren't you afraid that she still has feelings for this Onyxbane? And if word ever got out in the Silver Hand–"
"Too late for that," Willypearl idly crunched on a cookie she was having with her tea. "Some of the wives and husbands of the paladins in the Silver Hand have been coming to me and asking for personal orders. I may even have to open my own shop."
Elec smiled. "Mother, I'm sorry to tell you this, but I think it makes up for all the meddling you've done in my past. And hopefully, it will scare you away from ever delving into my personal life again."
Willypearl sipped on her tea just then to keep from smiling in the woman's face.
"What is that, son?"
"Well, mother, I don't mind if they think that underwear was made for a Night Elf. In fact, let them think it. At some point, though, I'll just happen to tell someone the truth when they ask me about my new wife's recent fame in the tailoring market. When they ask if I'm jealous at all, I'll just say 'No. Not only did she measure me for the showstopper, she left the very Night Elf who inspired the collection for me, because I fit the showstopper."
Lady Barillabine considered that statement frantically for a moment and then blushed a cherry red. "No guards! No guards..." she whimpered pitifully, and the men behind the door went away snickering.
"Son... I could have lived without knowing that about you." Elec's mother frowned.
"Too late for that," Willypearl smirked again and took another bite of cookie.
"Willy, Mom," Elec said and drew the women he loved into a hug. "This season is about sharing what we have, sticking together during the cold season, in the spirit of Greatfather Winter. Let's put an end to this fighting right now, and be a family. I couldn't bear for us to be at odds during this season."
The two women who embraced Elec agreed. The mahogany grandfather clock in the corner began to chime away just then. It was midnight, and they'd settled things just in time.
The moment couldn't be more perfect.
Until Willy smirked again and said, "Mom, if it makes you feel any better, it did go exactly the way Elec plans to tell it. So he won't even be lyingto all your paladin friends"
Barillabine was about to protest when Elec added, "And it will only aggrandize the family name, not tarnish it. Isn't that what you wanted out of my new wife?"
"Oh, how I hate both of you!" Barillabine bellowed and left.
When the door finally closed, Elec wrapped his arms around Willypearl and kissed her. "Happy Winter's Veil, darling."
"And to you too Elec." Willy smiled, and Elec kissed her again.
Not shabby, I must say. Making a Greench of that shopkeeper was my idea and getting the word out so that the underwear would be an impossible secret to keep was pretty clever of my gnomes. I think I'll give them a bonus for this one. And, in the end, Willypearl and Elec settled the confusion over Onyxbane and that arrogant and meddlesome Lady Barillabine Pontier will get the humble and selfless daughter in law that she deserves. Next, I'll show you how I fixed that messy situation Alessandre put Onyxbane and Wisthera in. I was hoping that I could just stay in the background and let everything seem to fall in place, like magic... but desperate times call for desperate measures, don't they?