The Romancer Greatfather Winter
Episode Nine:
Onxybane walked to the bed and lay down on his stomach as Wisthera watched. She was sitting in a chair along the far wall of their bedroom, and her bottom lip quivered. She'd been crying nonstop since dinner.
"Please, no more Onyx. I can't watch—"
"Watch me leave?" Onyxbane said as he crawled under the bed and reached around for what he wanted. After a few tense moments, the large blue Night Elf reemerged, dragging a long shining axe with him. It was the one thing in the world that Onyx loved more than himself, perhaps even the woman he'd given his wreathe to. When Onyxbane got his hands on his Arcanite Reaper, he meant business. This time when they quarreled, Wisthera had finally gone too far.
"You know what this means, right?" Onyxbane stood and swung the huge axe so that the long shaft rested on his right shoulder. Further up the metal shaft, menacing spikes ripped out of the blue leather handholds. The round blade itself had a laughing skull crafted on both sides, the last thing the enemy saw when his—or her—time was up.
"Please don't leave Onyx. It's not my fault."
"We've been arguing about that damn dress for days! How many times did I ask you to tell me what man sent it to you? How many times did I beg you to look into your heart, put the pride and arrogance aside and think… but after all we've been through, you think you're covering for some rogue aren't you? You're putting some imagined stranger in your past ahead of the man you're supposed to love."
"But I do love you Onyx. Honey, please, just put the axe down. Don't leave me."
There was another reason that Onyxbane went to get his axe. That was the one thing he couldn't leave behind. If he took it, there was no way he was coming back. He could make up his mind and be done with the lying cheat of a woman rogue forever.
Oh, now you come back? You see what happens when you decide to play that silly Burning Crusade game and leave me here all by myself? The story goes on without you. And am I, Greatfather Winter, going to catch you up on what you missed? Absolutely not. Just watch…hush now, this is the best part, when I get him to walk out on the love of his life.
"No one comes to mind? Not one man at all?"
Wisthera buried her face in her hands. She'd gone over and over all her memories, and there was no one else… there had been only one man in her life after Alessandre, and he was beautiful in his polished blue plate, made terrible jokes, and managed to romance every available woman on an ocean voyage within a matter of weeks. In the end, he'd chosen her, or so she thought.
Wisthera picked up the crinkled letter, and tried to make sense of the signature for perhaps the last time. But she took too long. Onyxbane turned his back on her and walked out of their little home.
"Onyxbane… please!" Wisthera called out into the silent purple depths of Ashenvale. Her voice echoed on the wind.
Hahah! That's what that lying cheat of a rogue gets! Oh, I forgot to tell you that Wisthera's on my naughty list too for this year. The both of them are finally getting what they deserve, for walking out on family members, and old friends, for scamming people, and breaking hearts. Maybe it's a few hours after midnight on the Eve of Winter's Veil, but better late than never, right? That's Alessandre's good, I'll admit it. I never thought he would go this far. The red underwear was just a warm up I think. This dress with the note attached was the main course.
Wisthera felt cold. She went back into the house. It was too hard to shut the door. She just couldn't close the door on Onyxbane, even though he'd already made up his mind and was gone.
Finally alone, Wisthera's mind began to race. Her old con artist instincts kicked in. There would be a way, somehow to get him back right? All she needed was proof, all she needed to do was convince him.
She went to the dinner table. The red underwear was still lying there, where she'd whipped it out yet again, accused Onyxbane, and their argument renewed today, then escalated. That was when he went in their bedroom and threatened to get The Reaper. But this time, he really did leave with it.
"It's because he doesn't trust me… but I trust me. I know I'm right…" she turned the illogical crimson lingerie over and over in her hands for a clue. "The tag… okay it's embroidered right? So Willypearl really did make this didn't she? But there's no guarantee she sent it right?" Wisthera felt like she was going crazy, too many voices in her head, all of them trying to shout the answer at her at once, which was right? "I can't think! No… the only other person who could send it is Alessandre… it's so obvious, but he didn't even send a mean letter with it. But the dress does have a letter. And the letter sounds like what Alessandre would say… or does it? No… no he would never--" Then Wisthera knit her brow together, as if it pained her to finally admit, "He never liked me… he never really liked me at all. And he probably hates me… he would never declare his love to me..." Wisthera's hand shook as she was on the verge of it, her eyes went wild.
What in the heck is she doing? Hey, gnomes, any of you know what's going on? It is taking her entirely too long to have a nervous break down, and we still have that Priest Benactus to cover—
"Alessandre is smart, that is why King Magni Bronzebeard wanted him in the first place, right? And I hear he's a master forger… but why is there no letter?" Wisthera shrieked with frustration. "A master forger would create a letter to go with this, wouldn't he? It doesn't make any sense… Willypearl...W-I-L-Y-P-E-A-R…" Wisthera pressed the silken underwear to her forehead trying to think quickly. "That's only eight letters. That's not enough to forge something… and he doesn't know Willy, he'd have no way to make anything convincing. Alessandre sent the underwear!" Wisthera screamed and then cried. "Oh that sonofabitch!" she swore and stomped all through the house. "I'll kill him, I'll kill him dead!"
Duh. I knew that already. Fizzlypop, stop nudging me. If you have something to say, just say it! You're ruining the moment.
Err… Greatfather Winter sir, I have something really important to tell you.
Yes?
Well, there's something you don't know. I think I might have ruined Winter's Veil this year…are you going to fire me?
What are you going on about?
"Wait… that's no good. That's what got me into this mess in the first place." Wisthera thought aloud, and Greatfather Winter and his gnome Fizzlypop stopped talking over her.
Hey, just who is narrating this?
Shh!
Anyways, as I was saying, Wisthera finally felt she was getting somewhere. "The con behind the con is… there is no con." She pulled the black lace dress out of its box and held it up against her. "Alessandre didn't send both of these, only one. And, it has to be the underwear. He just doesn't… he'd never lower himself to seducing me, even in jest. I know… he hates me that much. The dress is my final clue." Wisthera, bold as ever, took off all her clothes and slipped the black dress on, uncaring that the door was wide open, no matter if there were orcs outside or not. The cold night didn't matter, the Horde didn't matter. Getting Onyxbane back mattered.
"It… why does it fit? A little while ago, it was too big on me, and now it fits perfectly?" she smoothed the near transparent dress over her hips. The dress itself could have been lingerie but elven clothing often doubles as both… I'm sure you know why by now.
Still don't get it? Okay, this is why:
"Onyxbane did this!"
Wisthera barely saw him. A flash of blue in the empty doorway, and then a glisten of the deathly blade. He had to duck low to enter, and even more frightening, knew exactly where the bedroom was. He grunted and forced her down, the flimsy dress forced up, and Wisthera was ready to scream "Uden!" to anyone within range… how did the troll sneak up on her so fast, where was her dagger?
"I love you. I love you," Onyxbane said over and over, and his plate clanked heavily as he cast it aside and it banged onto the wooden floor.
"Onyx?"
"You figured it out, thank the goddess. I thought that I would never be able to trust you again. I'm so glad I turned back at the last moment."
"This was some kind of test?" Wisthera had ceased to struggle. Her boyfriend was doing things that made her smile.
Onyxbane paused and caressed her cheek with his hand. "No. I really did leave just now. But… I came back."
He heard everything? What does that matter, she's wrong isn't she, Fizzlypop? Isn't she… you told me you saw Alessandre mailing that dress.
Ya, about that—
"I measured you for the dress, and had it made… this is perhaps the worst moment to bring this up, but you're gaining weight Wisthera."
"I am not!" Wisthera tried to slap Onyxbane's back angrily, but her bare hand slammed into blue plate, and she whimpered.
"I didn't get the other spaulder off yet," Onyxbane apologized to her and kissed her hand.
"Alright, I'll admit it. My pride got in the way of my seeing the truth… about Alessandre being obsessed with me, and about my size. I didn't think you noticed?"
Onyxbane laughed and kissed his girlfriend. "Well, I can see that it fits. Okay, so I can't see the dress from where I am, but I'm covering it right? It feels like it fits." He said and Wisthera shook her head at him in playful admonishment.
That doesn't even make any sense! Fizzlypop, explain why you are lying to Greatfather Winter!
Well, you see… remember when you sent me to Darnassus to switch the lovenotes on Evenstar? Well, there was this breathtaking priestess in the temple. I had no clue that it was Priestess Feathershine, and--
Don't tell me!
Shadowstep caught me flirting with her sir. I know you told me to watch out, but I didn't expect him to be stealthed right behind her. I saw him at the last minute… which is really creepy because I don't think Priestess Feathershine knows that Shadowstep pretty much stalks her wherever she goes.
Well, since you're not dead, I'll assume that he turned you?
Err… yessir. He told me to foil your plans, as far as I could for this year, if I didn't want to end up at the bottom of Teldrassil in pieces. Oh, and also, he told me to give you this.
What foolishness… it's just a folded up letter, it's harmless.
Open it sir. Please.
Greatfather Winter opened the neatly folded note, it read:
Dear Greatfather Winter,
You are on my list.
Sincerely,
Master Rogue Shadowstep of the Cenarion Enclave, Darnassus.
The other gnomes waited in wide-doe-eyed horror as their boss read and reread the very short threat letter.
Oh, these people have real problems. Did you see that? After what I heard about that crazy Shadowstep, Alessandre, Wisthera, Onyxbane, and Opalbane… after I tried my best to fix all of those elves this year, this is how it ends? I get a threat on my life! The nerve.
What are you going to do, Greatfather Winter? Oh, and am I fired?
I don't know… but I have a whole year to figure it out, now don't I, Fizzlypop? And that is my answer to both your questions.
Fortunately, while Greatfather Winter and Fizzlypop were talking loudly and interrupting the story, Onyxbane and Wisthera were busy doing what people madly in love do best, so I didn't have to describe it. Suffice to say, when they finished, Wisthera managed a clear enough head to ask her boyfriend,
"Onyx, tell me one thing though. I was so thrown off by your letter because it just didn't sound like you right away. Why would you write it like that?"
"Because I've been practicing my writing. What? So it didn't sound romantic? I was so offended that you didn't know it was me, that maybe you thought I was an idiot or something… And it was even worse when you thought it was one of your many ex-boyfriends. Wasn't the fact that I said I knew who wrote the letter--eventhough you didn't--give you any clue?"
"Wow, I see why you didn't want to tell me. It would be pretty bad if I couldn't figure that out on my own. I can be very, very, VERY arrogant. I had no idea." Wisthera pouted.
"I'm glad you understand now. But I guess that if it really was that bad of a love letter, so bad you took it as a threat…"
Wisthera drew a deep, tortured breath. "No, honey, it was actually pretty good. Did I say you were a bad writer? I didn't mean anything like that." she lied smoothly.
But Onyxbane knew better. "Okay, I'll just stick to journals then." He chuckled.
Oh no you don't! Don't you take one more step towards that computer thingamabob. I have one last person on my naughty list, and come the Legion or high waters, you are going to see what happens. Unless… did Shadowstep tell you to mess this one up too, Fizzlypop?
Nope. Does that mean I'm not fired?
Stop asking me that. Okay, let's go there now and have a look:
The morning after Winter's Veil, shadowpriest Benactus returned to the Cathedral of Light. He had some leftover roast duck under his arm, and some of his Grandmother's famous Westfall Stew in a sealed parcel under his other arm. A kindly novice priest saw him enter the priest dormitory and eagerly offered to take the things to his office. He thanked the young man and decided that the offer of help was an even better Winter's Veil Gift than all those family leftovers. Now, he could go directly to Opalbane's room and see how the latest full shadow priest convert to the Twilight Cultists was doing.
"Let's see, I made sure she remembered just how pathetic she is, I reminded her of the sentimental holiday season, and left her all alone with a bottle of rum. If I do say so myself, the timing couldn't be better. I can't wait until Silithus hears about how I got her back singlehandedly. I'm overdue for a promotion, and that's certain!" he thought gaily to himself as he nearly danced down the buzzing priestess' hallway. Normally male guests were forbidden in ladies' dorms, but Priest Benactus was the Dormkeeper and he was always the exception to the rule. Ladies giddy from the holidays greeted Benactus and he smiled back.
"I trust it was a good holiday for all?" he asked everyone happily and knocked on Opalbane's door.
There was no answer. Good. Priest Benactus thought. She's still recovering from her horrible night. She'll leap into my arms when I open the door.
But then, Priest Benactus did open the door, and his eyes went wide.
A very large, naked male elf lay on Opalbane's bed. The wine-colored skin and rippling muscles were hard to miss, that was for sure. Huge casks of liquor were emptied and all over the floor. A string of half eaten sausages hung from the bedpost. And, in the split second that he remembered to breathe before yanking the door back shut, Benactus saw the tiny Opalbane, nestled under the covers, a smile on her face as she dozed softly.
"What's wrong, Priest Benactus?" One of the innocent novices asked the poor traumatized priest in the hallway.
"I… nothing." He said, and tried to pull himself back together. Alright. One more look. I'm sure it's the eggnog getting to me… there is no large naked male elf, no evidence of a wild night… there is no way that Opalbane could have a party in her room, not the way that I left her.
Priest Benactus took a deep breath, and opened the door again. This time, there was no beautiful naked man, no oversized casks of liquor, and the stale appetizers… all gone.
"Opalbane? Might I have a word—"
Opalbane was still smiling. She snuggled deeper under the covers and yawned. "Priest Benactus… so good to see you. You know, I was thinking about your offer to go back to Silithus… no, that's not going to happen. I'll just recover here."
"But how—"
"A little divine inspiration. Wait, no, maybe it was seasonal? I'm not really sure which Greatfather Winter is, but I'm definitely going to be a good girl this year too." Opalbane never smiled, and the parting of her dark lips against her pale skin was more than creepy.
What else could Priest Benactus do? He bowed, regretfully, and left.
Back inside of Opalbane's room, Alessandre destealthed.
"Yes, I like this very much. Can we do it again sometime?"
"Absolutely not. I barely got those casks under the bed in time, not to mention the fact that I almost ruined my entire mission." Alessandre complained.
"The one where you romance me, and I abandon all my self-destructive tendencies? The one where I realize it's a wonderful life?"
Alessandre frowned as he got rapidly dressed. "You know, I don't remember putting out the manaburn candles last night." All around the room, the tiny blue wicks were extinguished.
"Of course not, you were passed out by then. I thought Shadowstep told you just how powerful a shadowpriestess I am? I can put out mere candles even while bedridden with my mana drained."
"That's impossible."
"As impossible as a rogue who is still a feral druid, with no mana?"
Alessandre flushed a dark purple and his mane of midnight blue hair fell over his face as he bent to fasten his boots.
"Should I feel violated right now? I might have been drunk, but I certainly remember that I went to bed fully clothed… what did you do to me?"
Opalbane smiled wider. "Nothing at all. I just watched."
"Just what did you make me do?" Alessandre's eyes went wide, and he started to get goosebumps.
Opalbane sighed heavily. "I controlled your mind, silly. I did what any sane alcoholic ex-cultist shadowpriestess would do on such a lonely night. I… fell into a drunken slumber before I could get too far." Then she frowned. Oddly, the return of her frown made Alessandre feel more comfortable than he ever was with her smiling like that.
"You have issues, you know that? And I feel sorry for your brother, growing up with you and your dark torturous mind."
Opalbane smiled. "I'm a good girl, Alessandre. I just do bad things."
Now that's more like it. I'd hate for Shadowstep to ruin an ending like that, thank goodness. Well, that's Winter's Veil for you. Whatever happens between those two afterwards is out of my hands, though it will be interesting to see how it turns out this time next year.
What was that? You're going to find out what happens? That's not fair. How come I won't see any of it for a whole year, but you'll know by next month? Who's pooktales?
Wait! Wait! Come back here…snow melting…season changing…powers fading… urge to play the Burning Crusade rising… rising…
Ladies and Gentlemen, Greatfather Winter has left the building.
Author's Note:
This was the holiday short that turned into a fitting sequel, which surprised even me. Well, you can guess what The Romancer Opalbane, the third in the series will be about. I've been planning the first episode of that one for a while so the next update should be soon. Thanks for reading!