Author's Note:
*crawls out from under rock* Well, so much for 'no delays' ^^; (sorry!) From 'ere on out I won't be making any promises about either story I'm working on. Seems a lot fairer that way. (Also, real life burns out my time and creativity worse than a cosmic-class vacuum.) And finally, Sap is OP. Seriously :)
...
Varian Wrynn sighed very, very quietly and rolled his eyes. There were no clocks in the throne room, and for the tenth time that day he wondered why on Azeroth his decorators had overlooked such a simple but essential detail. In spite of his liaison's repeated assurances that 'something' would happen 'very Soon(TM)', his job as a monarch was getting... well... boring. Each day felt like it was dragging on... and on... and /on/...
"Hey."
Varian jerked up and looked around - discreetly, of course. The last thing he wanted was to have his guards think that their king was hearing things. He must've dozed off. The thought of a nice, refreshing afternoon nap made him yawn openly. For the love of the Light, how much longer until-
"Hey!"
There was no mistaking it; he'd actually heard the word this time. What was infinitely more concerning was that he knew the voice.
"Hey! Stop ignoring me, dammit! Do you have any idea what I went through to get here?"
'Obviously not enough to deter you,' Varian thought bitterly. Then again, Vaala Dawnstrike was hardly the kind of woman to be deterred by anything. She'd gone toe to toe with some of Azeroth's least family-friendly villains to date and came out swinging.
Clang!
One of the guards posted at the entrance keeled over without so much as a grunt. The other guards didn't so much as flinch. Their stoicism was something Varian had yet to wrap his mind around. Sometimes, it seemed that these 'NPCs' - of which Blizzard had a near limitless supply - really did lack any functions other than to serve as cannon fodder for whatever Horde PvPers were bored enough to come calling.
Whack!
A second guard followed in the metaphorical footsteps of the first. Varian shook his head and covered his face with his palm. "Was that really necessary?" he said out of the corner of his mouth when a set of light footsteps announced him that Vaala was back within earshot.
"Got your attention, didn't it? And those guys are supposed to respawn quickly, anyway."
Varian took a deep breath. 'Keep calm,' he thought. It didn't work. 'Keep calm and play along,' his mind growled desperately. Any alternative to that scenario would probably - no, absolutely spell trouble with a capital 'V'. "What are you doing here, anyway?"
There was no reply.
"Vaala...?"
Nothing. Well, if that more-trouble-than-she-was-worth rogue had gotten bored of him already, then praise the Light and-
"Yer Majesty?"
Varian blinked, then glared at the shifty-looking dwarf that had somehow materialized smack in the middle of his keep without any of the guards so much as showing intent to question the fellow as to who he was and what his alleged business with the King of Stormwind was. "Yes?"
The dwarf didn't even bother to bow. "Just flew in from Westfall, Yer Majesty, and ye won't believe what me eyes have seen..."
Varian leaned back in his throne and stifled another yawn. Here was yet another misguided adventurer who thought he didn't already know that the Defias Brotherhood was rising under the leadership of Edwin VanCleef's daughter... ah, Varessa, was it? No, that was Rhonin's wife. Or was that Veressa? Varian decided he didn't care. If Blizzard required him to play dumb for the umpteenth time, then so be it. Now, what was he supposed to say - oh, right. "I will deploy a battalion of soldiers to Westfall at once," he intoned, not quite managing to sound anything but bored. "With the Defias Brotherhood reborn, an old threat to the kingdom is renewed." He paused for a second, then finished, "You may go away now."
The dwarf didn't budge. "What about my reward, yer Majesty...?"
Varian rolled his eyes. What did these people think, that Stormwind was made of money?
Stab!
The body of the dwarf folded neatly to the ground, stood there for about half a second, then disappeared, leaving a neatly-posed skeleton behind. A second later, Varian distinctly heard the words, "You're welcome."
Varian crossed his arms. "I'm pretty sure ganking my subjects is frowned upon." 'By me, anyway,' he thought wryly. As far as he knew, Blizzard didn't give a damn about ganking in general, and about Horde ganking Alliance in particular.
"He'll respawn at the graveyard, if he didn't already," Vaala quipped. "And I saved you from having to give him his 'reward', so if it's not too much trouble I'll take-"
"Don't even think about it. Now, are you going to tell me why you're in my keep, or do you really want to see me when I aggro? I promise you, you won't like me when I aggro." It was an empty threat and she probably knew it, but it felt good to assert a little bit of dominance anyway. And, miraculously, it worked.
"We have a situation back home," Vaala said flatly.
A 'situation'? "Elaborate." 'And my car better be fine, dammit.'
"Your car's fine," Vaala went on, almost as if she was reading his mind. Or maybe she was.
Thank the Light. "Then? What could possibly be so important that it warrants you bothering me at work and risking-"
"Jaina and Illidan broke up."
"Oh." Varian took a moment to process the news and found no threat of impending doom there. "Isn't that what you wanted in the first place?"
Silence.
"Great," Varian muttered out loud, resigning to keep an eye out for any more guards that toppled over for no explicable reason and-
Thud!
The guards swarmed. Varian watched them run around aimlessly for a while, wondering whether he should call them off, for their own safety if nothing else. However, judging by the sound of things – particularly the death grunt that couldn't have belonged to anything but an orc (or a blood elf with a sore throat) – the guards had actually gotten off their collective behinds and done their job, for a change. Which meant that yet another intruder had managed to slip inside the keep. Granted, a clumsy one, but still.
"Yikes. I'd hate to be that guy when he respawns." A chuckle, then, "You're welcome."
In spite of his better judgement, Varian couldn't help but ask. It was the way of things, after all. "What for?"
"C'mon, after what they did to his spleen-"
"No no no." Light, was she doing it on purpose? "What am I supposed to be 'welcome' for?"
"Oh. Because he was going to try to whack you, of course. And if I hadn't knocked him out of stealth first, your guards would've never caught him in time."
It was getting more and more difficult to keep a straight face. Thankfully, no one had noticed that their king was apparently talking to himself yet, but odds were that would change if he lost it now, and reminding Vaala that she wasn't supposed to attack her own faction was probably going to result in an argument that would trigger precisely that. "Fine. You're welcome. Very welcome, in fact. Now, what were you on about before? And for the love of mercy, make it quick. I can't be seen talking to you. Not here. Especially not here."
"Well... Jaina and Illidan broke up."
"You already said that," Varian said flatly. "And?"
"Illidan... sort of... came on to me." Was it just a fancy, or did Vaala actually sound embarrassed, for once? She certainly wasn't the usual chatterbox she became whenever the conversation had anything to do with Illidan Stormrage.
Varian didn't like to repeat himself, but the thick silence oozing from where Vaala was supposed to be standing didn't leave him with any other alternative. "And?"
"I'm... not sure I want him is all. He's not... really... all there, if you know what I mean."
"I don't know what you mean." What did that mean, anyway? Varian had always wondered what wasn't 'there' – and, for that matter, where exactly was 'there' supposed to be. The language they spoke over in not-Azeroth was certainly... confusing.
"Cuckoo. Deranged. Basket case. Touched in the head. Around the bend. Mad as a-"
Case in point. "Oh."
"Yeah."
Silence.
"Well," Varian began awkwardly, "then, uh, tell him it's not working out." Why the hell was she bothering him for relationship advice, anyway? Unless – but no, that was inconceivable. Even for her.
Vaala sighed. "I did."
Varian tapped his foot idly. After a while, it became clear that he was supposed to say something else. "Uh. And...?"
"He didn't take it too well. Didn't take it well at all, in fact."
"Oh. Is that the 'situation' you felt so strongly you had to bother me for?" For some reason, Varian didn't feel nearly as annoyed as he tried to make himself sound, and that surprised him.
Another sigh, then, "Not... exactly. Y'see... we were in the apartment when I told him, and then he sort of – well, he locked himself in your room and won't come out. I tried to talk him out of-"
"My room?"
"Yes. He said-"
"My room?"
Some of the guards finally picked up that something unusual was happening with their monarch. One of them coughed and tried, "Your Majesty?"
Varian ignored the guard completely. "Give me five minutes to wrap things up here." He raised his voice, "And somebody find me a portal mage. Nobody goes in my room but me, dammit!" The last sentence came out as a growl more than anything.
From her hiding place in the shadows, Vaala grinned. "Knew that'd get your attention," she muttered. Now then, the mage was probably going to take their sweet time to arrive. Therefore, in the meantime...
Thump!