AN: A very happy of holidays to those who read this little story of mine. I hope Christmas went well for you, and that you remain safe through the New Years events that are sure to come. We are introduced more to Brin's relationship with Cor here, and really... who didn't see the events of the last chapter coming? We also meet a few more characters, some who will slowly develop as time goes, and others I brought in just for fun.
Lore is a fickle thing to play with, sometimes. Through the worgen starting line, we know that the night elves have accepted the worgen into their city. Tolerance is a big play here, and I believe that no race is completely unanimous with their leaders as some would think. Xavius, Illidan, and even Maeiv all show different aspects of the same society. It's tough to try and pin the mentality of a race when the people who make it up make it so very varied. Hence why Theron is not so pleased with the worgen, and Lydros is willing to help. You'll probably find a lot of moments where you'll sit and go "Hold on a sec, that race doesn't act like that!" You'd more than likely be right. But the variables are what make the characters unique. Theron might fit quite well with the ideal of the blood elves, but he is most certainly kaldorei. Ninya might seem a bit too talkative to really fill in the ideal of the stoic female night elf, but she's just as lethal and mean as the rest can be when pushed.
I talk too much. Heh.
In the weeks that followed the fall of Gilneas, the worgen found themselves a half-way house of some importance within the city of Darnassus. Some found themselves ill at ease to be so high in the air, where others enjoyed the gentle freedom. A few found council with their new allies, and friendships had begun to bloom. Always, there was the gentle reminder that they were guests. Even when their beloved King set sail for Stormwind, leaving a hefty chunk of his people behind, they were the best behaved of visitors that could have been imagined. To some of the young Kaldorei, they were much like pet dogs. It was not a kind endearment in the least, the reclusive youngsters holding much of their race's xenophobic ways close to heart.
Most of the refugees took such treatment in stride. The survivors had quickly set up to help the Kaldorei in their shops, in gathering, and even hunting. They had turned to the ones who had brought the curse they were now afflicted by, and were learning little things at a time. Elune began to have a place in the hearts of some, and others learned more of the Ancient, Goldrinn. Brinella was no different, though she chose to live in a different manner. As the weeks went by, and there was no sign of the man she loved, she began to stray from the docks.
"He really wasn't there," her mind would say. She hated to hear it from herself, but she couldn't understand why she had seen and felt him so strongly, but he hadn't been there when she had woken. The druids who had helped her swore that there had been no one, and as time passed, she grudgingly stopped trying to wheedle the truth from them, and simply accepted what she had been told. The absence of that hope had a profound effect on the woman, noticed by those she had grown up with, and those who now taught her.
The Gilnean woman hadn't been one of those who was constantly bubbly. She had left such a thing to her friends, and they had filled the positions with fervor. Brinella had been quiet, a stable girl for when the world came crashing down around the ears of those she loved. She would speak only when spoken to, but her smile was always there, a fleeting twitch of the lips as if she were keeping a secret she so longed to tell. Her laugh was rich and full, and she was the one the boys loved to dance with, because she enjoyed the quick-footed reels more than the boring slow-dances.
She was a farmer, her fingers roughened from pulling carts and tying endless knots. Clyde had teased her, told her that she would never find a good man neck deep in the hay. It hadn't bothered her, until Cor had come back from one of the far towns, where he had been an apprentice. He had caught her attention in a heartbeat, and in a way that no one else had, previously. That he was her best friend's brother only made the young Adeline twitter with glee.
It was Adeline who had started the ball rolling, dragging her unwilling elder brother to dances and harvests, fishing trips and hunting parties. If Brinella was set to go, then there was no doubt Adeline and Cor would be there as well. As time passed, the two grew closer. Six years of play, of chasing each other and climbing trees, before they woke up to what was right in front of them. He had proposed in the winter, had dragged her to a spot where the snow glinted in the sunlight, and the trees were heavy with ice.
She could still remember that long pause, after he had confessed everything. How she had looked at him, his fine features and ice-blue eyes, the long hair he kept tied back to let only his bangs trail in his eyes, and then had looked at herself. How ugly she had felt, in that pristine cove of laced ice and glittering snow, her hands rough from hard work, and her body nothing like the other girls. The one moment for her to feel absolutely insignifigant... but she loved him. All of her insecurities meant nothing around him. She had accepted, and in that gem-like cove of ice and snow, they had shared a first kiss.
Two weeks later, Clyde and Adeline were engaged as well. By the next winter, they were supposed to be married, and they all wanted it to be a wedding for both couples. Brinella would finally have the sister she had longed for, and Adeline would see her elder brother happy. Then... everything had gone wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong. There would be no wedding for Adeline. Nor, it seemed, for Brinella. The man she loved with all of her heart was here, and yet not.
Her smile was a hollow thing now, and her laughter absent. She spent her days tracking down herbs with a keen nose, using some of them in her own potions and elixirs, and giving the rest to the kind Kaldorei who let her use the upper floor for a room. There she would curl up on the bed, as human as she could, and would ever, be. "No use moping, you know. There are things to be done."
Brinella sighed, rolling bodily from her bed to stand lightly on her feet. A groan left her as she stretched, feeling the odd popping as her back set itself back in order. Her grooming was quick and quiet, never taking long to brush her wine-colored hair and dress in the simple leathers she had taken to wearing. It wasn't long at all before she left her room, her form shifting and twisting until she was little more than the thick-built feline that she had taken to running around as. Her steps were not quiet as she walked downstairs, but her voice was when she reached out to the owner of the home.
"I'm going out. Do you need anything while I wander?"
Versai Wintermist glanced up from her table, her head tilted just slightly until the shadows fell from the source of the voice in her mind. Her thin lips pulled into a small smile, and she nodded. "I'm low on mageroyal and thistle, if you find it. Other than that, anything else you bring back can be dried for your use." Her silver-lit eyes watched the cat pad from the stairs and down the ramp, and she couldn't help shouting a warning about the coming rain, though she knew it would not be heard.
The rain came down in torrents, now. From beneath an umbrella of broad-leafed plants, Brinella watched it fall, her ears flicking back and forth when stray droplets crashed through the undergrowth to soak through her pelt. She couldn't say that she had not seen the storm coming, as she had clearly heard Versai yell her warning, but she hadn't expected it to come this fast, and in so great a scale. Gilneas storms were nothing compared to what was now rocking the tree, threatening to uproot the very ground she walked on.
The wind shifted, and Brinella found herself with a choice; either move and stay dry, or continue to inhale water. Grumbling internally, she chose the first. The plants rustled around her as she dashed out from her cover, and she all but slid downhill, claws scrabbling for purchase. It reminded her briefly of the winter months and sledding, albeit a bit more painful as branches caught her fur and tore skin. Her landing at the bottom of the hill was not graceful, a loud 'oof' escaping her as air left her lungs and she collapsed in a pile of wet cat and mud.
"Wonderful day, wouldn't you say?" The sarcastically chipper voice she spoke to herself in did nothing at all to lighten her mood, her eyes scanning the area in an attempt to find cover. When that brought nothing, she stood and padded off again, her frantic search for cover in the storm yielding nothing in the least. "Should just turn around." She agreed with her mental thought, and turned around to head back to the city, yelping in shock as earth gave way beneath her heavy paws and she dropped into a small ravine. A ravine, she realized, that had a small cave just large enough for her to slip into. With effort, she squeezed her feline body into the cave, stepping daintily over the small puddles forming.
Lightning cracked, making her skitter back quicker than she had intended, the thunder rolling over her pained roar as something sharp dug in around her front paw. She jerked, crying out again as it sank deeper into her flesh. Another lightning flash showed her ensnarement; a carefully crafted and hidden bear trap, with vines engraved on the metal. It was odd, to her, how she noticed the smallest things when in pain. Her form began to shift, a sharper lance of pain searing up her arm as claws turned to rough fingers. It was following her shifting, keeping her firmly pinned no matter what, and she could see no way to release it.
Long minutes passed, each achingly painful for the trapped druid. Her foot slowly lost feeling, alleviating the pain somewhat, just as long as she didn't move. It was at least dry in the slightly elevated cave, if a bit cramped. Maybe, once it stopped raining, she would be able to find help somehow. If a trap had been set, the hunter would have to check it eventually, and that settled her enough to make her relax, and wait. Somewhere along the way in her musing, she drifted to sleep.
"That trap was meant for the saber, not a wolf-cat." Theron growled under his breath, his eyes returning to their normal silver glow as Falshon spun once in the storm and sought to return to her master. "I'll fetch it in a few days. If it lives, it'll learn not to crawl where it doesn't belong. If it's dead... well, the rest of them will learn, then." His arm lifted, bracing slightly beneath the weight of his own companion. "No fault of ours, Falshon. None at all. Let's go home."
The male night elf spun on his heel, his cloak hood pulled up and over his eyes as he stalked off in the storm, headed back through the gates of Darnassus. Falshon's own amber gaze fell on a pair of cloaked figures in the shadows of a tree nearby, but an unspoken command as the taller of the two mets eyes with the old owl seemed to keep her quiet. She ruffled her feathers, and turned her gaze back towards the city.
"I'll wager two gol' pieces tha boy dunnae go back at all." Winnie's nose wrinkled, her fists clenching beneath the thick cloak that kept her warm and dry. Beside her, the black ram she rode seemed to bleat in agreement. He was not the only one. Lydros' own eyes were changed, almost feline in nature. Far beyond them, Shade picked through the soggy underbrush until he came to the ravine, dropping lightly down until he could pad to the cave his master sought.
He knew this cave, and knew the cat who normally called it home. Lydros couldn't help a dark chuckle of his own as he watched through his companions gaze, knowing the saber that Theron had so desperately sought was safe in a stable of his own. Trisa's own fortune was much better than the druid who had taken her place. After a silent command given for Shade to return, Lydros' eyes cleared. "I need Ninya. Go find her, and tell her to come follow Shade to me. Make sure she doesn't forget her tools."
Winnie nodded, pulling herself up into the saddle of her ram, and the two took off. Lydros set out from his spot, his hood pulled up against the storm.
"I know you're in there, lonely one."
Brinella woke slowly, a loud yawn echoing in the tiny cave. "Oh, good. So now you can free me, and I can get back to town." Her ears flicked as laughter filtered to her, a quiet laugh that seemed barely noticeable above the steady wash of rain. She was not entirely sure she liked the sound.
"Unfortunately, no." Lydros dropped down, his amber gaze meeting her own emerald one for a short time before he seemed to settle just outside the cave. "I'm just a bit too big to fit in there myself, and even if I could, getting back out with a trap would present a problem. Nevermind having you in there, on top of it all." There was a pause, and the clatter of things being dropped. "You've become a victim to one of the few who don't look so kindly on your people being here."
"I had thought I simply stumbled into the wrong place at the wrong time." Her voice took on an edge of hurt as she moved, the trap tugging on her torn skin. "You cannot remove it, but you simply sit there and watch me suffer?"
Lydros laughed, and this time the sound was louder. "Not by a good margin, youngling. You may have been lucky that my companion and I wandered close to the one who did set the trap. He intended to let you stay here a few days to get a lesson through your head. It was your bad luck that the rain washed his scent from the area. His folly, as well. The beast he is trying to trap is safe in my own care. Very beautiful saber." He watched as Brinella huffed, blowing dust out from around herself as she shifted her haunches to bring feeling back into them.
"I sent Winifred to fetch a friend of mine. Good with springing traps, and a youngling like yourself. Gets herself in a lot of trouble, but she'll be able to get in there and get you unbound. Figure we can go back to my mentor's home and get you warmed up there, and some care. It isn't far."
Brinella said nothing, her eyes closing once more. She let the silence speak for her, ignoring the shift of earth as the hunter moved around. He did not try to speak and draw out more from the woman who clearly did not want to speak at all, and he gained a measure of grudging respect for that fact alone. It was only when she heard voices speaking that she realized she had drifted to sleep again, and that whoever the male had called had arrived, and was in the process of crawling into the tiny cave as well.
Silver eyes fell on Brin, and the heart-shaped face tilted in an inquisitive manner. "Oh, you are awake! Here, let me see that paw of yours. Which one got caught?" The woman curled up against the wall beside Brinella, nodding when the trapped paw was offered. "Hmm, this is pretty bad. Can you feel anything?" Her fingers dove into a muddy pouch at her side, bringing out thin tools that the druid could barely see in the dying light.
"No, not really. I tried to shift, but it wasn't going to let me out."
"Theron's traps are nasty things. His father is very big on respecting the wildlife, but the boy himself... well, I wouldn't be too surprised if he wound up getting himself into a buddy-buddy relationship with someone unsavory. He's always been about power and the like." Her words became muffled as she stuck a tool between thin-pressed lips. "This is definitely his. He likes to think he's completely brilliant and is the first to find an unreleasable trap, but everything can be gotten out of if you know the right places to poke."
"You say that like you've gotten out of more than a few of these." Brinella liked this woman, who seemed to talk more than most she knew and yet didn't make herself annoying. It was as if the act of speaking helped her focus. She took the time to look at the little lockpick, her heavy head set down alongside the trap. The girl was tall, but slender. She didn't have the heavy musculature of someone used to combat, but she obviously had some strength. Her white hair was cropped short, framing her sweet face, and her skin was a pale blue. She bore no facial markings, the first like such Brinella had seen.
"Well..." Ninya paused to think for a moment. "I've gotten more than a few animals out of these things. Lydros doesn't approve of Theron's ways. One believes that teaching an animal to trust you and consider you worthy of guarding is far better than the other, who believes that you bend the wild to you. They are constantly at the throat of the other," her voice raised over Lydros' own speaking, wiping it out in the tiny space, "and I think they both should grow up. Theron isn't very well liked, and he doesn't like Lydros for being familiar with all the other races."
"I don't know either of those names. I thought your people were all... good." Brin winced as the trap moved, causing a small trickle of blood to seep down the engraved metal.
"If we were all good, we wouldn't have satyr or naga." It was a simple phrase, but the hate it contained made the druid flinch internally. "Lydros is the one out there. He sent Winnie after me to get you out. Theron... well, you'll know him when you see him. Green hair, purple skin, thinks he's Elune's gift to women on top of everything else. He used to be a very pleasant person, but that was before we lost our immortality. His mother perished in the battle, and he... never really coped, I guess."
"Battle?"
Ninya blinked, looking away from her work to eye Brinella. "Have you lived behind a wall your entire life?"
"Yes." Her response was deadpan, making Lydros laugh out loud.
"Oh, right." The lockpick grinned sheepishly, shrugging her slender shoulders. "Just suffice to say there was a very big battle, and we lost a lot to be able to live today. I lost both of my parents, Theron lost his mother, Lydros even lost his mate." Ninya ignored the silence from outside the cave, setting down the tools and putting her hands on the wide metal that held Brin in place. "This is going to sting a little bit. I need to press down, which will release the spring the rest of the way, so bring your paw with me."
A low growl left the druid while the rogue worked, following her instructions carefully. When at last the slender woman pulled the metal apart, Brinella was sure she would begin to cry with how the paw stung. "Thank you."
"Not a problem. Let me move out here..." There was a great deal of squirming, and the spot was vacated as the girl slipped from the cave. Brinella moved to follow, and then realized that such a thing would be a great deal harder than she thought. Not only was her hand in great pain, but it simply wasn't working. Ninya seemed to figure this out long before the druid did herself. "It's okay. Just shift to the smallest thing you can, and I'll help you out."
"It... hurts." Brinella whimpered, ashamed of her weak tone, but accepting that she was indeed in pain. Still, her feline guise faded, and even the worgen faded away until she was merely human. Her good hand was extended, and with effort, both Lydros and Ninya gently dragged her from the cave. Standing was a chore, wavering slightly on her feet. "Did I break something?"
"No." Lydros took the bloody hand, peering at it for a moment before dragging it away from Brinella's body, and letting the rain fall on it. Each droplet made the druid writhe in pain, her desire to pull away stronger at every passing minute. "But you will need a good healer. Thankfully, I know one who can take care of what has been torn and harmed." He smiled, bringing out a bandage that he wrapped around her hand firmly, making certain it would not be moved. And without preamble, he lifted the girl in his arms, nodding to Ninya.
"Send Winnie to Laird's home, when you see her again. I'm taking the druid to see his mate." He ignored Brinella's protests, turning on his heel and making his way easily down the ravine, until the ground seemed to slope and he was on level ground once more. Shade appeared when he hit the road, bounding ahead until he could no longer be seen, and when Lydros still refused to put her down, Brinella resigned herself to her fate, petulantly dragging the edge of his cloak over her head so that she might be dry and warm.