Episode Eight: Opal chats up Al

"Alright Al, now what is your favorite color?"

Alessandre lay in bed next to Opalbane with his hands folded over his bare stomach. This was the most well rested he'd felt in a long time, but he wasn't about to tell Opalbane that.

"What's with all these questions? I tell you that I have two weeks to hunt down all the Twilight Cultists in Stormwind and you're not even concerned for yourself?"

Opalbane smiled sweetly. "Just be glad that I'm not using a Mind Vision on you to get what I want."

"Like the last time I spent the night?" Alessandre lifted his head slightly to double check that the manaburn candles were still lit. The tiny blue flames flickered reassuringly.

"There is one big difference between the first time you spent the night with me and last night. Last night, I didn't take any of your clothes off."

"Are you sure? You seem to be hinting at something more."

Opalbane blushed. "I thought you would… why didn't you go any further than that kiss?"

Alessandre couldn't resist patting Opalbane's hand. It was poised just slightly over the parchment she balanced in her lap. The stylus was already starting to dry, which she reminded him of with an impatiently arched eyebrow.

"Opalbane… I just couldn't. You know that."

"You're not sorry that you didn't take advantage of me, are you?" Opalbane was trying to sound sarcastic and unconcerned, but the tinge of hurt in her voice gave her away.

Alessandre opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. "Al… No one has ever called me that. I like that you do."

Opalbane smiled.

"And I like that you are smiling more now. I have to admit that I was worried about you before, when you didn't smile."

"I thought you were just watching me to gather information?" Opalbane teased.

Alessandre chuckled. "Yes, you have me there. But I'm just glad that you are feeling better now. Oh, and the answer to your question is red."

"Why red?"

Alessandre shrugged. "I never thought about it very much… my favorite color has always been red. To me that color is alive. It lives and breathes… it feels, Opalbane."

"The same could be said of green. Green is the color trees, of Elune's sacred forests. It's funny, actually. Almost every druid I've ever met has been in love with the color green for the exact same reasons. Isn't that curious?"

Alessandre wouldn't look at Opalbane. He stretched and folded arms under his head.

"Well what's next then? Maybe you want to know my last name? Or my favorite holiday… perhaps my favorite food?"

Opalbane nodded.

"You know, if you were a fellow rogue I'd be very suspicious of you and this little game we've been playing all morning. You're not preparing a document to hand over to the cultists are you? Or, perhaps Shadowstep or Priestess Feathershine?"

Opalbane didn't miss that Alessandre sounded a bit more serious than he should have in his jest. "No, this is just a little something for a diary I've started. I'm surprised at you Al, you would suspect your own guild leader and a Priestess of Elune of prying into your personal life?"

Alessandre shrugged and the position of his arms caused his pectoral muscles to tighten. His skin, the color of a dark pearl drunk on red wine, glistened in the morning light. Opalbane forced her gaze back onto her parchment. "Shadowstep may be the leader of Kaldorei rogues in the Cenarion Enclave, but he's no friend of mine. I'm sure he's done as much sleuthing about my background as possible, but he doesn't know everything. And he's the type that would always be willing to know more. Priestess Feathershine, whatever her motivations, is working for Master Shadowstep too."

"What! My foster mother has a strong will… I think you've got it the other way around. I've seen Shadowstep fawn over her for years. He eats out of her hand."

"He's eating something, I'll bet." Alessandre joked crudely, but shivered when Opalbane scowled at him.

"What I mean is, I know Shadowstep well. He likes to be in control." Alessandre amended quickly. "Beyond my name and my career, Opalbane, Shadowstep doesn't know about my being a druid some twenty years ago. And I've been careful not to reveal myself to any of the druids who share the Cenarion Enclave with the rogues in Darnassus." Then, he got quiet, "I don't know why I told you that secret… I'd never told anyone before. I have to trust that you'll keep it to yourself."

Opalbane nodded, but then she said, "It's not that you feel forced to trust me, Alessandre. You do trust me. And I trust you. We're friends."

Alessandre idly scratched his goatee and then stretched out again. "So we are, Moonlily. I'm a very dangerous man though. Are you certain that you want to put so much faith in me? I can assure you that I don't deserve it."

"It's mine to give." Opalbane shrugged, "It's up to you what you do with it."

A tense moment passed between them. Suddenly, Alessandre didn't feel so comfortable anymore. "My current name is not my own. My favorite holiday--and this only occurred to me recently—is the time of year when Love is In the Air… I think that's what they call it here in Stormwind. And I guess, on that note, my favorite food is chocolate. Heh, I bet that's strange."

Opalbane looked at Alessandre critically. "Either you are very much influenced by trends in Stormwind, or you are lovesick yourself for having such romantic taste. I've not been to the Trade District myself lately, but I hear it's filled with vendors selling love tokens and candy, and that there are wreaths of red flowers everywhere… sound familiar?"

Alessandre laughed right out loud at that. "I swear it's a coincidence, Opal! I only like this holiday because the women are so easy—"

The heated look Opalbane shot Alessandre cut his sentence right off.

"Well, that was when I was a young man, anyways. I don't look for love, you see. It finds me."

Opalbane shook her head in disbelief. "Maybe the woman from your past ruined you for lovemaking, but I don't see that it diminished your libido any."

Then, they laughed together.

"So what happens next, Al? Did you find out who Benactus' contact is?"

"Oh yes. And he isn't pretty… well I've got a professional opinion from a woman rogue that he is actually quite attractive, but evil always is, isn't it? And, because I have only two weeks to find all the Cultists in Stormwind, I think it's time to out myself as your bodyguard. I think that if I let them know I'm on to them, they'll make some mistakes, or get excited and try to warn their friends. Then all I'll have to do is watch for the fallout."

Opalbane squealed with glee, and Alessandre had to put a finger to her lips to quiet her. It made him laugh.

"Oh, I can't wait for Benactus to meet you! He will be impressed!"

Alessandre became solemn. "Be careful, Opalbane. It sounds like you have some kind of paternal fixation on Benactus… it's more than understandable considering that you lost your own father, and goddess knows Shadowstep could have never filled those kind of shoes for you. But… you know that Benactus is a Twilight Cultist. He is going to die."

Opalbane looked mournful, then she sighed. "I suppose you're right Al… I'm still thinking like a cultist, aren't I? According to Silithus, Benactus is the one who recruited me… he is a lot like a father to me because of that sponsorship. It's hard to let that mentality go."

"I have others on my list as well, Opalbane. I seriously doubt you've heard of Max, but what about Faltheriel?"

Opalbane stared up at the ceiling as she recalled the many hooded faces around the burnt orange fel crystals and the spooky blue campfires of the Twilight Cultist camps.

"No, I've not heard of him. Maybe he's new?"

"He's been there long enough for them to reassign him up here in Stormwind. How long does it usually take to get that kind of promotion?."

Opalbane laughed spitefully. "That's a demotion. They don't trust him, but he's powerful so they want him affiliated with them… but it takes a few months to gain enough trust for that kind of work. Why do you ask?"

Alessandre grimaced. "I can only tell you so much Moonlily… but don't forget that there are no High Elves in Stormwind. I don't care what anyone tells you, even if it's your mage friend… magic users can be blinded by power, even if it is someone as kind as your Willypearl."

"You know about Willypearl?" Opalbane looked shocked.

Alessandre nodded. "As part of my debriefing for this mission, I was asked to read your brother's book, The Romancer Onyxbane. Maybe I should have warned you… but I'm so used to people being wary of rogues because we tend to know everything anyways. It keeps us alive, you understand."

"I see." Opalbane answered quietly. Then she thought for a moment and said. "I know that we're family, but before you get any ideas about me, please know that my brother has always been a pervert. I could never… I'm not capable of doing the things he did to Willypearl, Wisthera, and Priestess Feathershine. Personally, I don't know why Shadowstep hasn't hunted him down yet."

Alessandre laughed heartily again. "How do you know Shadowstep isn't? Not that you should be worried… Onyxbane's too close to Feathershine for that."

Opalbane and Alessandre listened to the quiet creakings of the hallway floorboards as priestesses stirred just outside the door.

Alessandre whispered, "From what I've seen, there are only two ways for a Master Rogue to lose his title in the Cenarion Enclave. The first is death. If he dies while on a mission, he becomes a hero. But if his comrades kill him, it's because he's corrupt, and that is dishonorable. Second, if he leaves the position alive, it's because he's become discredited by his underlings and forced to step down. Surprisingly, there is no scandal in leaving a position alive. It's really the only way to force a Master Rogue out and other people in the profession understand that. I think they may even discredit a Master Rogue on purpose. Rogues can't retire, for obvious reasons."

"Why are you telling me all this?" Opalbane worried.

Alessandre smiled. "Because that is your insurance regarding your brother's well-being. If Shadowstep wants to remain in the good, he'll leave your poor innocent civilian brother alone, or face scandal that his enemies will latch onto in an instant so they can force him out. Every rogue has a weakness, you see. It's pretty obvious what Shadowstep's weakness is. But, because she works in the Temple of Elune, someone would have to risk the wrath of High Priestess Tyrande herself or the fury of Darnassus if they wanted to get at Feathershine. And, if you can imagine how hard that would be for enemies to the Night Elves, just think of how difficult a political situation that would make for someone within Darnassus. Shadowstep's survived more than most because his one weakness is so safeguarded. In addition, he's made the right kinds of enemies, but not too many of them. He's a fair boss on the whole and always does good work. Furthermore, Shadowstep is widely feared. When you get right down to it, no one has ever had any reason to force him out of power like those others."

Opalbane gently stated. "You want his job."

Alessandre laughed and nodded. "Master Rogue Alessandre has an excellent ring to it, don't you think? And, I have to admit that I'd get a little something out of countless women in the Alliance referring to me as "Master." He joked, but Opalbane wasn't smiling. Her ominous frown had returned. Alessandre hastily cleared his throat. "It's what any really good rogue would want. Besides, I'm not the only one."

"Do you intend to kill him too, then?"

Alessandre shook his head. "The best way to become Master Rogue is through appointment, which mean Shadowstep should be allowed to live through his deposition. Right now, Myrielle Fadeleaf is Second Commander. But, if my career shines brightly enough, Master Rogue Shadowstep might pick over her and choose me. It's not so far off, you know. The way I see it, she and I have the strongest running, though many rogues have their eye on the position."

"Does this include Wisthera? I'm fairly sure she would kill for ambition. She's a bit unstable." Opalbane worried.

Alessandre smiled grimly. "Maybe, but she's upset far too many people for that. She'd have to silence all of those voices, and mine would be especially difficult to quell."

They lay together on the bed in silence as the light chatter of women grew in the hallway.

Opalbane looked on Alessandre lovingly, and he took her hand and kissed it.

"This woman rogue you mentioned… you slept with her didn't you?"

Alessandre nearly choked. "I didn't say that Moonlily."

"Don't give me a nickname unless you mean it, Alessandre." Opalbane flared.

"I did, but that was years ago… It hardly matters now."

"Just like you were a druid twenty years ago, but you'd have to be far older to know Master Rogues that preceded Shadowstep? How many lies are you telling me, Al?"

Master Rogue Shadowstep had been appointed seventy years ago. Everyone knew that. It was part of why people feared him. Perhaps for a priestess or druid that kind of lasting influence was expected, but rogues had such mortal existences, even before the World Tree was destroyed. Alessandre was mostly right about the way Master Rogues came into power, but it would take many lifetimes to understand something like that.

"I don't look my age, do I?" Alessandre smirked. It was a very handsome look, but Opalbane did not melt they way he expected her to. "No Moonlily, no. I can't tell you any more of my secrets. There is no one alive who knows how long I've been around, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Well, considering that I've never dated anyone at all, I can't say that I'm opposed to older men." Opalbane giggled.

"I thought I told you we can't do that." Alessandre said carefully.

"Oh, that must be why you keep sneaking into my room at night and kissing me, not to mention almost making love to me. How long do you think I'll put up with being jilted before your window of opportunity closes forever?"

Alessandre looked even more uncomfortable. He clearly hadn't considered that possibility.

"But you're bedridden?" he half whimpered.

"Maybe I'm not in the best of health, but I'm not easy, Alessandre. And the holidays have no power over me here, in my tiny cell with a bolt on the outside of the door, the windows sealed shut, manaburn candles, and a demonic rune under the bed." Then Opalbane lay on her side and kissed Alessandre's cheek. "What I am is willing, and waiting. You'd better hope I don't get bored while you make up your mischevious mind."