The Romancer Opalbane
Episode Nineteen: The Wreathe Day that almost wasn't
Opalbane marched angrily up to Alessandre and tapped him on the shoulder. When he turned around to face her, a sharp pain exploded in the side of his face where she slapped him, hard.
Alessandre flushed but didn't move a muscle.
"I told you to meet me in Ruth'eran Village so that we could process up here."
"It's too dangerous." He said stubbornly. It was a lie.
"Dangerous? For all your bodyguard duties, you let me wait three hours for you, alone. I thought you forgot about me!"
Opalbane was wearing a simple black woolen dress that she still managed to look amazing in. Alessandre tried not to look down into the plunging neckline that was tied up high on dress's empire waist by a delicate black ribbon. How he ached to untie it…
"What you did to me yesterday afternoon was not funny!" He piped up, but he sounded like an immature schoolboy recovering from a misguided prank.
"So that is why you let me writhe there, in front of everyone, like bait on a hook?"
Alessandre kept having bad thoughts about Opalbane in the dress… it agitated him that so much of her body was covered, when on their first date Opalbane had nearly been naked. Wasn't she working a bit backwards? Alessandre left off trying to remove the layers of her outfit with his eyes. If he couldn't keep his mind out of the gutter now, he didn't have a chance of faking it tonight. The worst part was, Alessandre actually managed to convince Master Rogue Shadowstep to go along with his idea. After what Opalbane did to him yesterday afternoon, Alessandre had half-hoped his boss would give a resounding 'No' to effectively giving the clingy shadowpriestess exactly what she wanted.
Alessandre leaned down and picked up the sharp black hat he'd been wearing. It fell off when Opalbane slapped him. The rest of his outfit was casual but polished. An excellent navy shirt, an intense blue even darker than even the rogue's long midnight hair, was tucked neatly into brand new trousers. If he'd wanted to, Alessandre could have laced the shirt collar closed just under his neck, but it lay open and revealed the definition of his collarbone and the start of exceptional dark purple pectoral muscles underneath. The denim-blue light cloth pants were fastened by a new black leather belt. The blue was a definite change from all the dark armor he usually wore. Alessandre had kept on his well-worn black leather boots, however. A slight metallic glint that could only come from the hilt of a blade peeked out just where the tall boots ended a few inches under the knee.
"Yesterday, when I went back to Darkshore…" Alessandre had trouble recounting this, "I couldn't think straight… I was walking funny… I… I was scared out of my wits that I would drop my stealth because I wasn't in my right mind. You are about as distracting as a lunar eclipse when you seduce me."
"It wasn't seduction. It was punishment." Opalbane narrowed her eyes at Alessandre.
Alessandre inhaled deeply, trying very hard not to act on all the dirty thoughts that raced through his mind at the moment. But the prospect of sleeping with Opalbane, even if he was going to fake sleep with her, was starting to overwhelm the wily rogue.
"Alright, I am going to admit something to you." Alessandre couldn't recover from the long silence and gave up trying to hide his feelings. Or, more than likely, it was a roundabout way to vent his frustrations, by telling someone about them.
Opalbane raised both her silken white eyebrows and put her hands on her hips expectantly.
"I have wanted to sleep with you since the first moment I saw you."
Opalbane's heart would have melted right then and there, if she wasn't so sure that she knew Alessandre well by now. This was some kind of shallow declaration of lust, and whatever he was about to say next could not be anything near to the deep feelings she had for him, feelings she was going to make him return, one day.
"And?"
Alessandre was surprised to have been interrupted while confessing something that he thought was romantic. The usually secretive rogue continued, a bit hesitant. "I've never wanted a woman so much before in my entire life. I know that I said you can only know so much about my past Opalbane, but trust me… that is a very long time to go never feeling what I feel for you now. I just…" Alessandre really struggled with this, and Opalbane relaxed.
"It must have been divine intervention that kept me from taking advantage of you on the first night we met in person. I'd spied on you before yes, seen you before… and I'll admit now that a lot of it wasn't just keeping tabs on you, for information. I have an Ornate Spyglass and… well there was a lot of staring involved, to be honest. But that scared the living daylights out of me because after a while, I realized I was looking so much because I was afraid to talk to you! I've never worried about that kind of thing before. You know, sometimes a man just can't show any kind of weakness if he wants to win a woman over. I looked at you, and I could not shake the feeling that you might reject me. Wow, I can't believe I said that."
Opalbane smiled a little.
Alessandre took a deep breath, then folded his hands behind his back. "I've not even gotten around to saying what I want to say yet. Opalbane, I… I…" Alessandre shook his head, trying to get the words out. Finally, he wrapped his arms around her and Opalbane hugged him back. "Goddess, that feels good. Okay, I think I can say it now. I just needed to touch you, in order to feel alright. I was going crazy not touching you. Every moment of every day that I've spent with you, I've wanted to make you mine. Every moment that I was away from you, I've wanted you more. And when those damned… thugs of Faltheriel's," he cringed when he spoke the Blood Elf's name, "kept talking about hurting you, I kind of made this into my personal mission to keep you safe. I've never cared so much about whether or not someone lives or dies… and I see now that it's been too long."
Alessandre pulled away from Opalbane for just a moment. "Please, promise me something?" He asked her.
Opalbane wondered if she was going to lie to him or not. Yesterday she'd declared war on Alessandre's so-called feelings. But now, he didn't seem so shallow.
"Of course, I will, Alessandre." Opalbane looked up into his eyes. Even for a male Night Elf, Alessandre was tall.
Not able to resist, he leaned down and kissed her tenderly. A profound sense of calm washed over Opalbane, and she regretted it when he took his lips from hers.
"Promise me that, no matter what you may hear about me in the future, no matter what kind of news comes from Stormwind, that you'll remember what I just told you?"
"But Al, why would I hear anything bad—"
"No reason. But just in case you do hear something… Please know that I was lost at first but in the end, I changed my mind. I did everything I could to turn my life around during those last few days we were in Stormwind. Everything I did then, I did to protect you, to keep you alive. I'm still hanging around here because I want to finish my mission and make sure that you are safe. Promise me that you won't forget that?"
"Alessandre, you're scaring me." Opalbane took his hands in her own.
Alessandre leaned down and kissed Opalbane. A profound sense of calm washed over the shadowpriestess and she regretted it when he took his lips from hers.
"Shall we go? You're wreathe is waiting with the Herbalist." Alessandre quickly changed the subject. The way he flitted from sincerity to suave nonchalance was aggravating. But, when Alessandre extended his arm for Opalbane to take it she couldn't resist that gentile charm. He began to lead them away, toward the Temple Gardens.
"Oh, and by the way, I know this is your first Wreathe Day so I'm going to give you a little tip: attacking me violently will probably make it obvious that we're not in love."
Opalbane turned the corners of her mouth into a dark frown. "Alessandre, you may be an expert lover, an expert assassin, and a skilled investigator, but you are NOT an expert when it comes to matters of the heart. I think you should allow me to show you exactly how one penetrates through the flesh into a man's soul." The word 'soul' was set aflame by the peculiar multi-tonal nether voices that had consumed Opalbane on the ship. Alessandre flinched and decided to keep any further jokes he had about love to himself.
"Opalbane, do you promise to marry me one day in the future, if it's still a good idea and Elune allows us to even live that long?"
Opalbane frowned at Alessandre's emphasis of just how far into the future their imagined wedding day might be. Soft chirps of birds filled the Temple Garden as Opalbane tried to think of clever response to Alessandre's sarcasm.
"Yes, Al." she said. In the end, Opalbane did not have the heart to sabotage her own wreathe day. It meant too much to her.
Opalbane's wreathe had been woven from long-stem white roses. The large white petals almost covered the tiny black ribbons that flowed in and out between the rich green stems. Finally, they made an elaborate knot where it all tied together in the back. Countless delicate loops of ribbon rested against the start of Opalbane's long braid, and then long ends of ribbon trailed down her back. Alessandre took his time fishing the stray strands from inside the back of Opalbane's dress, then came around to face her saying, "I picked out all the materials myself."
He didn't bother asking if Opalbane liked the wreathe. Her delight was plain on her face.
Oh, how I love you. Opalbane thought to herself. Whether Alessandre realized it or not, he'd invested a great deal—much more than he needed to—in making the most exquisite wreathe she'd ever seen.
Opalbane was overwhelmed by the care Alessandre had taken to make the day perfect. He'd only been given a few hours of preparation the night before, but he might as well have taken months, years… every single vendor that they visited greeted Alessandre and Opalbane by name, and also referred to them as "the new darling couple" which certainly took some preparation on his part. Then, to top even that, Alessandre bought Opalbane a Heaven Peach from a wandering fruit vendor. He insisted that she eat it immediately, without telling her why. Opalbane hesitated to bite into the ripe peach, but none of her caution made a bit of difference without a napkin of some kind. The sweet sticky juice got all over her fingers and slid down her wrists. Alessandre watched his date struggle with the fruit and a devlish smile grew on his face.
"Oh, do you need some help love?" he chuckled softly, and then licked every drop that stained her fingers. Perhaps he enjoyed himself too much. Alessandre pursued every drop, and rolled up Opalbane's long sleeves to kiss as much of her skin as possible. People in the street stopped and stared.
"You did that on purpose." Opalbane whispered to him, breathy.
"Have another peach, Opalbane." Alessandre insisted again, and narrowed predatory eyes at the shadowpriestess.
And that was how they went from shop to shop in Darnassus, with Alessandre making as many conspicuous romantic attempts possible. Finally, they walked past the Auction House and then along the Warrior's Terrace. A rickshaw driver was waiting there among the Sentinels.
"Alessandre, please don't give me any more peaches… I won't have any room for dinner later, and I don't think I can survive you kissing me or parts of me every twenty seconds."
Alessandre laughed right out loud. "I am treating you like a princess. It's no less than what you deserve." Opalbane half believed that Alessandre had got lost along the boundaries of role-playing love to her and really loving her. The man sounded genuine.
"Speaking of dinner…" Alessandre waved to the rickshaw driver and he greeted the two of them warmly.
Opalbane was shocked. She'd seen empty rickshaws all over Darnassus, but rarely ever saw anyone actually take a ride in one. They were from a period long gone, probably back when her parents were young lovers and places like Felwood and Ashenvale were so safe they were near to paradise… besides being very expensive, the few skilled rickshaw drivers alive could hardly be convinced to traverse through the now hostile wilds.
The ride was slow and deliberate. Curious young owls hooted softly as they came right up to the carriage, and Opalbane patted one of them gently. They passed Nightsabers, but their skilled driver seemed to know exactly where their dens were and expertly weaved them safely through the feline territories.
The royal purple rickshaw suddenly emerged through a screen of interlacing green foliage and into the heart of Dolanaar. Startled young Night Elf soldiers looked on in awe, and Alessandre raised Opalbane's hand and made her wave to the crowd.
"Alessandre! Only Tyrande does something like that." Opalbane worried at how he was showing her off.
"Does Malfurion kiss Tyrande when she rides through Teldrassil?"
Opalbane was confused by Alessandre's question. But she soon found that her answer was irrelevant. Rowdy hollering rose up from the young crowd when the rogue leaned in and gave Opalbane a hungry kiss.
"Don't worry about whether or not you're worthy of this kind of attention, Moonlily. I already told you that you deserve it." Alessandre smiled, very satisfied with himself. As the rickshaw plodded past Starbreeze Village and they neared Aldrassil, Opalbane was so giddy that she could hardly form a coherent thought, no less an objection.
They had dinner by candlelight in a quiet room above the inn at Aldrassil. The top of the enormous treehouse was surprisingly quiet considering there were countless excitable youths running around outside. The starting area wasn't exactly impressive, but it had a certain innocent charm. Opalbane knew from personal experience that many of them were on their very first missions as Kaldorei soldiers. The shadowpriestess couldn't help sharing embarrassing stories of the first few seasons she spent in Aldrassil as a young priestess.
"You must have some stories, too Alessandre. Did you start here also?" Opalbane giggled.
Alessandre swallowed his bite of roasted rabbit, then cleared his throat. Some local vendors had prepared the private room and meal for them. For the starting area, it was surprisingly good.
"Why would you assume that I didn't?" there was menace in his tone.
"I didn't say—"
"You ask because know that I didn't." Alessandre clarified for her. Opalbane cleared her throat anxiously when the heavy silence built up between them. Alessandre stopped eating altogether, and wouldn't look at her.
"Why do I get the feeling that you are testing me?" he challenged her.
"What? No, I'm just—"
"No, it's alright, Moonlily." Alessandre cut off her excuses. "Just what do you think you know about me? I'm curious."
The question sounded incredibly dangerous though. Opalbane was tempted to lie.
"I've never really read your mind about it—"
"That's no excuse. You haven't extracted my past from my mind yet because you can't. I haven't survived this long without picking up some tricks to keep out nosy priests. But please, go on."
Opalbane didn't want to say anymore. "I think you are still a druid." She said evenly. Alessandre's jaw tightened, but he didn't show any emotion. She went on,"You don't have any memories here in Aldrassil because when you started out, Darnassus wasn't even here yet. Am I right?"
Alessandre leaned back in his chair. He looked angry. "Why do you need to know every little thing about me?"
Opalbane scrambled for a good answer that wouldn't make it seem like she was suspicious of Alessandre. She couldn't find one.
"Some day, you are going to ask one too many questions, and you'll be disappointed. Is that what you want?"
"How could you ever disappoint me, Alessandre?"
Alessandre hesitated with his answer. "Look, if you want to go any further than this…" he had a hard time talking about them in a relationship. "I don't know what you want from me, but you don't want to know the real me… you're not even going to want to sleep with me if you learn the truth, so just stop trying to figure out who I am!"
His sudden burst of anger diminished the romance of that entire day. Alessandre realized his mistake and apologized.
"Alessandre… are you trying to scare me away? Back in the tavern in Stormwind I told you that I loved you, and however drunk I was, I meant it. I still mean it. I already know everything that I need to know. Now don't you worry whether or not you are good enough for me."
Alessandre laughed cruelly at her. "Oh, I don't worry Moonlily. I know that I'm not good enough for you. You know what, let's just end this now. We shouldn't go any further tonight, fake Wreathe Day or no, because you're only going to get hurt." His voice broke, and Alessandre began to get up.
"Where are you going?" Opalbane demanded.
"I slept with Myrielle." Alessandre announced when he got to the doorway.
"You already told me that—"
"On our first date, after Benactus fooled me—the very same day you said you loved me—I went to the nastiest cathouse I could find, got drunk off my ass and then fucked Myrielle. Are you happy now? I was with her all night long, and most of the morning after, even though I was supposed to be with you. And, if you think that's bad, there's plenty more…" but Alessandre did not have the heart to admit to the rest. He waited in the doorway with his back to Opalbane.
Opalbane cupped her hands over her mouth in shock.
"No forgiveness for me, then?"Alessandre laughed bitterly at himself. "No, I didn't think so. You aren't Elune, priestess. You can't take every man's confession and make all of Azeroth right with him. Sometimes, people are just horrible, cold-hearted, murdering… bastards." Then, Alessandre left.
Opalbane had to sit back down. She stared at her half-eaten dinner for a long time, and then buried her face in her hands. She cried.
Later, at the base of the large treehouse inn, Alessandre pulled the rickshaw driver aside. "Here, this is what I owe you in addition to a generous tip if you'll make sure that Priestess Opalbane gets home safely."
"Sir! Where are you going?"
Alessandre turned away from the man, shaking his head. "To die in obscurity somewhere… if I'm lucky." Alessandre joked to take the sting of what he'd just done, but he only sounded distraught. Then, the rogue started up the road out of Aldrassil alone.
"You dirty, selfish waste of life!" Opalbane ran out of the inn screaming at Alessandre. He shrugged, but wouldn't turn around.
He didn't have to.
The sharp crack of thunder shattered the peaceful silence of the tiny valley. Black energy ripped through the sky and hit Alessandre head on. He fell to his knees and cried out in pain.
The angry shadowpriestess ignored the young soldiers who started screaming. Their little excited shouts were insignificant in her ears. As Opalbane neared Alessandre, her shadowform flared up and the priestess could hear only his shallow gasps of breath.
Opalbane stood over her date and put her hands on her hips. "I am saving you, dammit, whether you like it or not! Now get in that carriage!" she shouted at Alessandre, and pointed to the cowering rickshaw driver behind them.
Terrified, Alessandre struggled to his feet. When he didn't move fast enough, Opalbane swore at him, and threatened to cast another Vampiric Embrace spell. When they got in the carriage, Opalbane wrapped an arm around the ailing Alessandre and forced him to lay his head on her shoulder for comfort.
"Why are you still wearing my wreathe?" he asked weakly.
Opalbane narrowed her eyes at her date. "I told you to leave the manipulation of men's souls to me." Opalbane growled. "Besides, don't you know what real love is?" Alessandre was beside himself with shock.
"You… forgive me?" he gasped.
Opalbane sighed with mock disappointment. "If I tell you my answer right now, you're going to just run away again, and I can't have that." Then she laughed evilly. "I thought a good bodyguard like you would know a kidnapping when he saw one."
Then, the smoking shadowpriestess turned to their driver. "Hurry up there, old man! We have a Wreathe Day to finish in Darnassus tonight, come the Legion or high waters!" Around them, the delicate purple foliage of trees rushed past until it turned into a messy lilac blur.