The Romancer Opalbane

Episode Two: Rogues always put bunny ears on people

"So what happens now?" Opalbane asked.

She carefully tucked the folded letter to Willypearl behind her back, under the pillow. Alessandre, like all Night Elf men, was an excellent balance of lean build and sinewy musculature, which caused them to look in perfect proportion from all angles. Opalbane thought that Alessandre was especially attractive. Maybe it was that she knew he was a rogue, and had a mysterious aura about him. Or, perhaps his dual role as deceiver and bodyguard was an intoxicating mix, because it should be impossible for a man to be so elusive, yet everpresent, so safe but yet so deadly.

Alessandre glanced at Opalbane without turning his face very much or really looking over his shoulder. His full mane of midnight blue hair hid his face at that angle, and it was not clear if he smiled or scowled at her. The man stood in broad daylight, but still he'd cloaked himself somehow.

"Well, Priest Benactus is not to be trusted, that's for sure." Alesandre said as he slipped his leather gloves on. For him everything was black. Black ontop of black, and not a seam out of place. "But I don't dare do anything to him yet. He knows who else is after you, and how to get to him. When he came in this morning, I shadowmelded just in time."

"About that, I—"

"Don't worry about it." Alessandre expertly cut Opalbane off, making it impossible to voice unnecessary fears. "He never saw me. But I saw him. He trusts you, Opalbane. When you told him that you changed your mind, and did not want to go back to the cultists in Silithus, he was content with that. He thinks that he can just convince you later on. He has no idea that you're going to betray him, which is good."

"I am? How could I do that to him?" Opalbane asked.

"You are going to get well, aren't you? Or do you plan to lie in that bed, drained of your mana for all eternity? Night Elves don't have such long lives anymore, you know."

Opalbane frowned. "Priest Benactus is just doing what he thinks is right. He's part of the cult you see. It's hard to abandon that kind of mentality. If I'm with the old god Zar'teaus, then I'm truly safe, and—"

"Now that's enough." Alessandre spun around smartly on his heels and faced her. There was something familiar about that. When was the last time she'd seen Night Elves marching and turning corners expertly like that… in Silithus?

"You chose not to go back to Silithus, right? I had a hell of a time convincing you, but you are going to stay here, aren't you?"

Opalbane bit her lower lip nervously. Then she nodded.

"Good. The old god Zar'teaus is not some ex-lover of yours. He is a disgusting, disembodied waste of life who needs a following to keep from completely wasting away. He and the cultists thought that you could be his high priestess, and act as an intercessor to future worshippers, the way High Priestess Tyrande is with Elune. But that is a disgusting perversion of the true thing… are you following me, Priestess?"

"You can call me Opal." The pale shadowpriestess offered politely, which is a rare thing for the dark and sultry Opalbane to do.

Alessandre ignored it. "Yes or no?" he insisted.

Opalbane said she understood. "But… I wasn't talking about Benactus just now. What about us?"

Alessandre turned back around and began to fasten his long mithril rapier and dagger to his belt. "I don't know what you mean."

"Last night… I'm sorry about what I did to you."

"Why apologize? You thought that I wouldn't remember, and you're only sorry that you got caught. When you dozed off last night, you left me completely undressed this morning. And, not to mention the fact that the candles had been put out. I'm just lucky that Benactus didn't see a large naked male elf the second time he snatched your door open."

Opalbane stifled a laugh, though Alessandre didn't seem to think Priest Benactus' walking in on them was very funny. "I couldn't help myself! I… Look, that's not what I mean… okay fine. You're right. I'm not sorry, not one bit. I'm glad that I undressed you."

"You know, most women are content to do it with their eyes." With that Alessandre tossed his head so that a long blue lock of hair fell free of his shoulder and put his hand on the door.

"Wait! Will I even see you again? You've been my bodyguard for weeks now, and I only just figured it out, because you chose to spend Winter's Veil with me. Are you just going to disappear back into the shadows again? What if I need your help?"

"You won't. My job is to kill whatever it is that's bothering you before it gets to your doorstep."

"Wait, you're not going to murder Priest Benactus—"

Alessandre stopped what he was doing and turned around slowly. "No."

But Opalbane's heart raced. She knew it was a lie.

"He has to live." Alessandre started to explain, a wry smile on his face. He seemed to enjoy explaining his secret plans. Opalbane heard the implied for now, eventhough the rogue hadn't said it. "In fact, I want to follow him and find out whom he knows from Silithus. Then I can find the others…" he trailed off. "I think I will make it clear just who I am soon. Eventually, Benactus will need to know that there is a threat working against his threat on your life. Something will have to make him hesitate before he goes too far."

"Aren't you afraid that he will panic and take it out on me?"

Alessandre avoided the question. "He won't."

"And how can you be sure… or do you even care?"

Alessandre stared at Opalbane a long time and said nothing.

"Alessandre… maybe you won't believe me, but I care about what happens to you. I can't forget what you did for me last night. We were so different only a few hours ago. We were laughing together, drinking and sharing secrets… you even kissed me."

Opalbane waited to see how Alessandre would respond. He seemed to blink, but just barely. Then, his jaw tightened, but he didn't say anything.

Opalbane sighed. "What in the world happened to the man who barged into my room last night, and tried to make love to me but fell asleep?"

"It's called sex, and there's a difference between the two." Alessandre answered rather coldly.

This stung Opalbane deeply, but she steeled herself against it. If Alessandre hadn't re-lit the many tiny blue manaburn candles, perhaps her shadowform might have flared up.

"You told me that Greatfather Winter was talking in your head, and I believed you. In fact, you told me a lot of things… and you know what, I don't believe that you're just a rogue now. I think the difference between then and now is that you are all the way over there, near the door," Opalbane gestured at the distance between them to make her point. It was a small room, but the manaburn candles formed a ring around Opalbane and the bed. Only the doorway was cleared. "And that the demonic rune drawn under my bed collects all the fel energy being drained from my body. Tell me, does a druid still have mana when he's in his feral forms? Or does it just disappear, as if on a whim?"

"That was twenty years ago!" Alessandre almost shouted back. Opalbane smiled. She'd hit a nerve with him, and he knew it.

"Oh, I took your confession alright. You didn't want me to delve into your past last night, so you told me what you thought you had to, and then tried to kiss me and distract me when I insisted that you were hiding something. You know… in the temple of Elune, my foster mother Priestess Feathershine takes confessions from penitents all the time. She looks right into their brains using a Mind Vision, and forces them to confront their ugly secrets. It's frightening at first, reliving those nightmares, but the release is also very good for you."

Alessandre turned from the door, but Opalbane was careful to note that he did not dare stray far from it, or near to the manaburn candles. "How… how in all of Azeroth is someone as striking as you so darkhearted? The way you sit there, you should look sickly to me, I should be repelled by you, but…" Alessandre made balls of his fists. "You are radiant. You defy me with everything you have, and you shouldn't have anything at all left in your system to fight anyone with. You're fighting me, a man who is supposed to be your bodyguard… why?"

Opalbane narrowed her glowing white eyes at Alessandre. The dark tattoos that formed shades of feral markings across her pale face made her look even more intent on her victim.

"Because, you like it."

Alessandre swayed helplessly on his feet.

"Come here, Alessandre," Opalbane nearly whispered. "Come sit by my side. Tell me what is plaguing your heart, why you truly hate people, and I'll drink in that nightmare, relieve you of it. You want to be honest with me, don't you?"

"Yes," Alessandre barely breathed. Opalbane felt his superior gaze melt. Then it was impossible to ignore the feel of his hungry eyes on her.

Then, he broke out of it. "You're controlling my mind again." He frowned.

Opalbane giggled, but then lurched forward and held her head in her hands. "Oww."

"But how? The manaburn candles are functioning again… you shouldn't be able to override them like that. How do you even have any mana left?"

"Shadowpriests have lots of mana. I'm an avid student of the shadow, so I made sure to have far more than most. But, it still makes me feel sick when I use my mana for these mere parlor tricks."

"Well, your little game almost landed me across the room and ontop of you again." Alessandre inhaled a deep frustrating breath. Opalbane felt lightheaded watching him breathe like that.

Opalbane smiled. "If only that was the only thing I needed from you."

Alessandre sighed. "It would compromise my mission. We can't do that." Then he stealthed and prepared to leave.

"Alessandre please! Just do one thing for me, before you leave? Please."

He didn't say anything in response, but inclined his head as he faded out of view.

"Did you really mean what you said last night… that you think 'I'm hot'?"

Alessandre laughed then. It was a surprisingly gentle chuckle coming from such an intense man. "You were the one wearing a flimsy linen nightgown soaked in sweat, not me. Take a guess."

Opalbane blushed. "When I drink rum, I just warm right up—"

Alessandre shook his head at her. "No excuses. I reacted to you honestly… and you know that it wasn't just the alcohol."

Then, he opened the door and crept out. The many women standing around giggling in the hallway didn't even noticed the gorgeous stealthed stranger in their midst.

"Be careful!" Opalbane called to him. She hadn't been able to hold it back.

"Opal!" one of the young priestesses out in the hallway came and stood in her open doorway. "How did your door come open? And who are you talking to?"

Daring as ever, Alessandre stood upright behind the woman. He was a whole head taller than the human priestess, and he smiled wickedly as if he was up to something. No one in the hallway could see the handsome stranger.

Opalbane bit her lower lip and shyly turned her head away from Alessandre's powerful gaze.

"No one… sometimes, I hear Zar'teaus," she lied.

That hushed the makeshift crowd of onlookers into disturbed silence. "Have a good morning then," the young human priestess said awkwardly and shut Opalbane's door again. Then she bolted it from the outside.

Just before the door closed though, Opalbane thought she saw something funny. Alessandre put two invisible fingers above the woman's head, which made her look like a rabbit.

Alone in her room, Opalbane laughed again, like she had the night before with Alessandre. It still felt like the first time in ages.

Author's note:

Just confirming that the original Episode One (the one with two letters that Al sent to Shadowstep and Feathershine) was permanently deleted. It's not that I'm changing anything that happens in the story, I just felt that opening wasn't working anymore. Don't worry, you'll get the same background information on Alessandre and his mission in other ways as we go along, so it will still make sense.