The Romancer Opalbane

Episode Twenty: Three little words solve one big problem

"Feel better?" Opalbane finished her healing spell then ushered Alessandre to the bed.

"Maybe, but I still don't understand why—"

"It's not important. Here, lie down." Opalbane started to undress but stopped what she was doing when Alessandre hesitated. "Come on, Al! Do I have to do everything for you?" she began to pull Alessandre's shirt out of his pants.

"Hey!" he yelped when her fingertips brushed something sensitive.

"Sorry," Opalbane shrugged, then her eyes went wide. "Actually, I'm not sorry. I even get to see more of it tonight, don't I?"

"Yes, but we aren't really going to—"

"Hush!" Opalbane pleaded and pushed imbetween Alessandre and the bed. She tugged at him so that he would lay down, but he wouldn't budge. Finally, she wrapped both arms around his neck and began to kiss him passionately. At just the right moment, when Alessandre was distracted, she jumped on him and he lost his balance. He had to fall into the bed, with her, to break his fall.

Darnassus was as quiet as it always was, whether light or dark. It was hard to tell whether or not the cultist spies were watching them now high up in the treehouse apartment. Just as Alessandre had planned, the room had only two walls. On one side, the door to the stairs that led down from the tree was locked. A pale outline on the other wall suggested that the bed had been cleverly lined up against it for years, with the back of the headboard facing the center of the city where most people might see. Night Elves were very close to nature and clearly some people needed the allusion of being outdoors to sleep comfortably… or to do other things comfortably. But the bed had been dragged into the middle of the room and the night breeze sailed in the eastern side of the apartment, passed over the two lovers and then happily floated through the room and out into Darnassus on the western side.

Opalbane was happy to feel Alessandre's full weight on her at last. "Oh, Al." she moaned.

"Opalbane—" Alessandre tried to sit up, but the angry shadowpriestess held him fast. "Alright, fine. I won't move from this spot. But I don't want to go any further until I know what is going on. Why are you okay with the fact that I slept with Myrielle?"

Opalbane tossed her head back, exhausted with the subject. "Because I love you and it doesn't matter, okay?"

Alessandre shook his head. "I might hate myself for saying this later on but… No, Opalbane it isn't okay. It is amazing when people who love each other can get past hurtles like this, but that's usually after they face their demons head on. I don't think I can let you just gloss over this… you'll end up hating me." Alessandre rolled over onto his side. "And no offense, but every time you get mad at me, you try to kill me. At first, I thought it was just the alcohol back in the tavern, but you did it again only a little while ago and you were cold sober." His eyes went wide.

Opalbane forced her eyes shut. "You are going to run away from me again if I tell you. And every time you run away from me because you are afraid to talk about something, you end up doing stupid things.

"Like cheating on you with Myrielle?" Alessandre prodded.

Opalbane exhaled angrily. "No, you see that's the thing. You didn't cheat on me, because technically we weren't in a relationship."

"What? But I—"

"Shush." Opalbane insisted and put a finger to Alessandre's lips. "Okay, so I'm a little manipulative. Yesterday, I put a lot of pressure on you to make you feel like we were in a relationship, and that we'd been on a lot of romantic dates when we really hadn't. It was my desperate attempt to make you love me…. I guess this is where I should say that I'm sorry, but I'm not."

Alessandre considered this for a moment. "You can't fool me so easily, Opalbane. I am a rogue, afterall. I saw right through that."

Opalbane looked truly lost. "Then why did you agree to go along with this Wreathe Day? There are other ways of saving my life you know."

"Well, not only was it a very good idea… I sort of agreed with you. You know, all that saving your life was pretty romantic. Sure, it was dangerous, but I got to be your hero over and over again. I like doing that for you."

Opalbane smiled wide.

"But," Alessandre pressed further, "Going to Myrielle on that night was wrong, when I knew how you felt about me. If I cared about your feelings at all, then I would not have done that. I wish that I'd just ignored all Benactus' meddling and gone straight to you that night, to see exactly where things were between us. I'm sorry, Opalbane."

Opalbane caressed the side of Alessandre's face. "Hearing you say that means a lot to me, Al. But, you see, I'm not really that mad at you. You were the one who helped me to understand that Benactus was out to ruin what we have; you're only just now allowing yourself to see that you do have feelings for me that Benactus manipulated that night. And, it's obvious to me that Benactus wasn't the only one taking advantage of you when you were feeling so low. I mean, just how did Myrielle know you would go to that very whore house? She must have been watching you Al."

Alessandre's eyes widened with realization. He'd been distracted keeping tabs on so many other people and trying not to get caught by the Stormwind Authorities that he never considered it. In fact, he was so low down on his luck that day, Alessandre had wanted to believe Myrielle found him, dressed the way that she was, on sheer coincidence. He'd wanted to feel good about himself that desperately.

"Goddess! You're right, Opalbane."

Opalbane nodded solemnly. "But right now, love… there is no Myrielle, no Shadowstep, no Benactus, no Stormwind… just you and I. And this Wreathe Day is far from over."

Alessandre leaned up on an elbow and took off his shirt. "You're right, Moonlily. And I was a fool to make you wait."

Alessandre was enjoying himself so much that he never got around to explaining to Opalbane just how he was going to fake intercourse with her. Opalbane wisely resisted asking. He removed Opalbane's clothes first and hovered over her, kissing every inch of her moonlit skin. She responded well to his caresses and moaned softly into his ears. Then, she reached up and began to lick them…

"Hey, you stop that." Alessandre chuckled softly, and pulled away from her. "You know what that makes me do."

Opalbane narrowed her eyes at him. "Would it really be so terrible? And I've been a very good girlfriend so far, by not nagging you to take off your boots while in the bed."

Alessandre sat up and removed his boots, as well as the rest of his clothing.

"Actually, I'm glad that you reminded me, Opal. I almost lost myself a little while ago. I forgot that I wasn't really supposed to be doing this."

Opalbane tried to hide her disappointment.

"You know what I told you the other day, about needing to be with you… I really meant that. I'm glad that you forgive me about the Myrielle thing, because I truly want to make love to you."

Opalbane wanted to scream with joy. "When we first met, you told me there was a difference between just having sex and making love… so you're sure that you want to make love to me?"

Alessandre laughed. "So I did. I even think I put it very rudely… but yes. The difference between the two is that I want to take my time with you and do it right, not just get off pent up frustration… is that okay with you?"

Opalbane wanted to leap into the air, do cartwheels around the entire room. She imagined that Alessandre might not even object to her naked cartwheels, and had to giggle her little mental joke. "Oh yes, that's wonderful. Does that also mean… if a person wants to make love with someone, does that mean they also love that person?"

Opalbane hated herself for asking, but if Alessandre never came out and said it, she'd never know for sure. The dream of making him into her true love was still with her. The shadowpriestess was so anxious for the happy ending that she clawed the down mattress to keep from leaping off the bed to do those cartwheels.

"Opalbane…" Alessandre began in a tone that was not jubilant in any measure. "I can't really sleep with you tonight because I don't want to end up making that kind of commitment to anyone. The spies will hear us and believe, but we can always prove it was a farce to Darnassus later… Besides, I just can't feel that kind of thing anymore. I thought I told you about Arianna?"

Opalbane was shocked to hear Alessandre speak the name of his first love at last. Opalbane tried not to show it in her face, lest she make the mistake obvious to Alessandre.

"Yes, you told me about her." Opalbane said quietly.

"My heart died on that day, when I couldn't save her. In fact, there are too many freakish coincidences between Arianna and yourself. What happened to her a while back in Silithus happened to you too... Now, on this night, I am about to save you through this Wreathe Day, but she was the first woman to wear my wreathe, and I couldn't save her… And then, there's the fact that she was also a priestess… thankfully, the two of you don't look the same. Evenso, there are far too many coincidences that make this incredibly hard for me. That is the other reason we have to wait, besides the fact that I can't ever make that commitment to you. My heart will allow me to make love to you, even knowing what I do about your past… but I don't know how I could bear a whole year or even a lifetime of caring for someone who reminds me of her so much. For her sake… can you help me make sure that I don't go too far tonight?"

Opalbane's eyes went wide. She suddenly fancied writing a letter to Priest Benactus asking him about the dead cultist Arianna. Opalbane wanted to find Arianna's dried up remains and spit on them for breaking and simultaneously stealing this wonderful man's heart for countless years. But that was the old cultist habit acting up again. Opalbane quickly decided that there was no way that she was going to forgo sleeping with Alessandre out of respect for his dead ex-girlfriend.

But, at least Opalbane finally understood why Alessandre was acting so strangely. He wanted to love Opalbane so badly, but to do so would be the worst kind of betrayal, worse than what Arianna did to him in Silithus. Clearly it was hurting him to let go after all these years, and Opalbane suspected that it had been much longer ago than the twenty years he was obviously lying about. Alessandre had drawn so many shields around himself since his time as a druid in Silithus that he was finally in denial about his feelings now that he'd fallen in love again. Maybe Alessandre even thought his feelings for a new woman were wrong.

"Oh, I'll help you alright." Opalbane said, narrowing her eyes deviously.

"Good." Alessandre said with a shudder. "After this is all done, and you are safe, we can go to the place I have in Ashenvale and we can make love. Lots of… really… great, noisy… well you get the idea. I promise that I will give you that at least. I've already made you wait too long for it. Then, when we're finally done, we'll both feel amazing, and renewed before going our separate ways. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Opalbane made herself stay calm. Maybe Wisthera gave really bad advice, but she sort of wished that the wily con artist was here now. Opalbane needed to figure out how to make Alessandre sleep with her tonight without breaking his heart.

There were no sheets on the bed for the benefit of the cultists. Before they started up again, Alessandre assured Opalbane that he saw some shady types watching. Normally, that would send shivers through people who were about to engage in something so intimate, but it reassured Opalbane. Her life depended on this. Alessandre told her that during their Wreathe Day earlier, he thought he noticed some strange Kaldorei lingering around them, following them with judgmental gazes.

"Help me to disappoint them now, Moonlily." Alessandre pressed Opalbane into the bed. He moved ontop of her, and Opalbane swallowed hard, trying to build up the resolve to strike against him with her betrayal. There was one big problem with that though. Opalbane had a fairly good idea of what to do, but she was starting to see that there was no way she was going to make Alessandre go through with it without his help.

But, if she used a Mind-Control spell…

"Al, stop." Opalbane pushed him off of her. "I can't do this. I can't pretend." Opalbane could not bring herself to use something like that on Alessandre, not if he didn't mean it.

Alessandre was breathing heavily but he forced himself to speak through the lust racing through his body. "Nor can I. This is too difficult for me." he reached his arm out to touch Opalbane's shoulder, but he was afraid of what he might do if he touched her again and let it fall short.

Opalbane stroked her braid as she thought. "Al, do you know why this is hard for us? Because when two people feel the way that we do about each other, they can't pretend. They can't… lie and play games with each other. It hurts too much. Goddess knows that I love you. I can't make you want me, I can't make you love me." Opalbane blinked back tears. "The only thing I can do is—"

"But I do love you.'"

Alessandre's words filled up the air around them. They echoed, or perhaps the night wind came again and carried them, made them soar imbetween those two wooden walls.

Opalbane turned to him. Now that he'd really said it, she didn't know what to do… she felt helpless in the face of how beautiful that gesture was. To overcome whatever lifelong trial that forced Alessandre to become a rogue, to put up with people like Master Rogue Shadowstep, and consistently hurt women like Wisthera and Myrielle for years and years… but he'd fought all of that, and he'd said it at last. He'd said it to her, Opalbane.

Alessandre took Opalbane's hand. He looked into her eyes and said it again, slowly. "I love you."

Then, he said it a third time, with more confidence. "Goddess! I love you, Opalbane. I knew that I did, but I was afraid to… but I'm not anymore."

Opalbane hugged Alessandre and cried onto his shoulder. "I'm so glad… I knew you could do it, sweetheart, I knew you could. Thank the goddess."

"So, what do we do now?" Alessandre stroked Opalbane's back. "I don't think I can go through with this."

"Yes, you can." Opalbane's voice was muffled through her tears and because she was speaking into Alessandre's bare shoulder. "I love you. I will help you. We can make this commitment together. We can live together for a year, and think about marriage."

"I can't."

"Yes, you can!" Opalbane started to get angry. She pulled back and held the sides of his face in both hands. She looked into his eyes. "If you truly want to do this--and I can tell that you do--then I will help you. There is no reason to be afraid. I can't promise that I won't make a mistake and hurt you, no woman can. But I do promise that I will do everything in my power to show my love, each and every day."

"You've already been doing that for me." Alessandre laughed softly and began to kiss one palm of Opalbane's hands.

"So then you know that it won't be much different. You've already been living with my love. Only this time, we'll be in that house of yours somewhere in Ashenvale, and not in some cold cell in Stormwind."

Alessandre removed both of her hands from his face and looked away from Opalbane.

Opalbane waited, it seemed, forever for Alessandre to make up his mind, to say anything at all.

"Al, you told me that at some point during the last few days in Stormwind you decided that you were going to see this mission through to keep me safe. I know that means you had different motivations beforehand." She watched Alessandre struggle with this painful truth, then went on, "But that is in the past. All of it is. What matters is what you do here and now."

After a time, Opalbane added. "Why don't you do what you came to Darnassus to for, and save me?"

Alessandre didn't say anything at all at first. He kissed Opalbane gently and she lay back down. Then he lay ontop of her. They caressed each other lovingly, but their gestures became more panicked and desperate as the heat between them rose. Finally, they were holding onto each other for dear life. Opalbane begged to Alessandre with her moans and the experienced lover stopped holding back. Fearlessly, Alessandre left the world behind and focused all his energy on the woman he loved. He leaned in and gave her everything of himself that he had to give.

"Don't be afraid." He breathed heavily over Opalbane. "Saving you is the very least that I can do for the woman I love. But making love to you for the first time--your first time--is more important to me than some silly mission." Then, he smiled. "After this is all done, we'll have an entire year to perfect it. But for now, let me show you how love is made." Alessandre's words comforted the shadowpriestess, and they turned the pain into something sweet.

The suspicious Twilight Cultists waiting down below and on rooftops far away could not interfere. They looked on anxiously for any sign that it was an act, or hoped that the two would hesitate again. But it soon became clear enough that Zar'teaus' high priestess was ruined. In the end they had to look away, thwarted at last.

That same night, at the Cenarion Enclave in Darnassus…

"Master Rogue Shadowstep?" Myrielle Fadeleaf entered the office of her mentor and saluted.

"The only reason that I'm not on the roof keeping an eye on my favorite agent at the moment is because I heard you finally got your sorry ass back here." Shadowstep leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on his cluttered desk. Papers were pushed aside and floated helplessly to the floor.

"Whatever you have brought to my desk today better be damn well worth it. I really wanted to see the look on those cultists' faces when Alessandre showed them up once and for all."

Myrielle pushed the long hood of her cloak back and handed Shadowstep a scraggly stack of yellow papers. He frowned at the condition of her report but then removed his feet from the desk and started to read through it.

Myrielle pushed a stray blue hair from her face and leaned on the desk, clear over what Shadowstep was reading.

"I'll sum it up for you. Your star agent, Alessandre, whom you want to give your job to right now instead of myself, is the notorious druid murderer. And don't stare at me like that. I saw it with my own eyes. Now we know that it was only one person hunting men on the streets of Stormwind over the last two hundred years and not some cult of druids, or even some kind of mysterious plot by the Horde. And there's a riot going on there right now, all because of him."

Then, Myrielle folded her arms across her chest and straightened. Her knee-high red leather boots creaked. "Now, are you going to sentence Alessandre to death or should I? Because I'd love to finally get that sonofabitch back for everything he's done to me."