The room was quiet, and though there were no lamps lit, it was not dark in the least. Sunshine did not pierce the curtains that hung closed over the window, but the room was still light enough to walk through, light enough that it was impossible to trip and fall as long as one was to pay attention. The floor was littered with clothing and armor pieces, a two-handed sword leaning against a chair that had been toppled to its side near the corner of the room. The clutter framed the bed where a single figure lay tangled in crimson sheets, her fingers curled into the pillow she clutched to her chest. Her lips parted, a soft groan escaping only to be muffled against the pillow as she buried her face in it and heaved a sleepy sigh.
The peace lasted for a moment, movement surging as the clang of metal rang out in the room. Triadae's hair splayed out, a crimson curtain and then cloak that wrapped around her as her rapid lunge was blocked, and she was thrown back against the wall, Tiroth's arm pressing tight over her breasts, his free hand clasping the dagger she had pointed to his throat. "Good to know you're feeling better, love." He smirked, blood dripping down the blade as he pushed it slowly aside, his lips pressing to the inside of her wrist. Triadae shuddered, fingers opening from the hilt. It dropped away, hitting the wooden floor even as her strength left her.
Tiroth chuckled, his hands sweeping beneath her to gather her up into his arms, striding away from the bed and into the bathroom, where he set her upon the edge of the bathtub, reaching to start the water while he spoke. "You've been locked in here since we brought you back from Hyjal. The time is far past for you to stand up again as a soldier of Silvermoon. I cannot watch you waste away in here," he washed his hand free of the blood and gripped her ankle, his hands moving bit by bit up her legs until he could clasp his fingers around her waist. He was silent for a long time as his fingers moved, tracing the wounds she had received, each of which had been sealed as a thin line along her flesh.
"Where is that woman, Triadae?" His voice could barely be heard, but he saw her flinch as if he had struck her. "You seemed to be recovering those first few weeks. You laughed, you trained as hard as you ever did, and when you slept? Peace was found again. Now, you fear the dark. You jump at the smallest noise, and you sleep for what seems to be days. I cannot watch it any longer, Tria." He cupped her cheek gently, turning her eyes to his own. "You're going to take Kalthor and Leybright, and meet the others in the Highlands."
"No." She pulled her face away only to find his hands clasped on her shoulders. "I can't be around them. I won't be around them! It's because of her that I - ..."
Tiroth shook his head, and her voice died. "You and Kalthor had your falling out. Hana told me about it when you returned. I admit, I found it strange that your anger would remain so strong, but I think you would be surprised if you spoke to Leybright again. Regardless of that, this is an order. Not from a superior officer, because I would never ask something like of you. No, I ask this as a friend." His eyes closed, and he tipped his head forward until his forehead touched her own. "You need to go, for my sake. Perhaps it is selfish, but it is what I need of you."
Triadae watched him for a few moments before sighing and pulling herself from his grasp, dropping into the bathtub. "You've taken care of me for several months now. Not once have you asked me for anything, not once have you shied from me. No matter how mean I have been to you, no matter how many times I've made you bleed..." Her hands reached for his wounded one, her shoulders slumping. "I know what you want from me, and I can't give it to you. Yet, you stay. I'm sorry..."
He laughed and shook his head, his free hand touching on the top of her head gently. "I will always love you, Triadae. But I learned that you are stubborn, willful, and you will do what you feel is right. I have Miralai. I don't need another woman coming along, and maybe I'm content to wait as long as it might take. You have a home with me, Triadae. You always will, and that's all that you need to be certain of, if you won't accept anything else. But I need you back, as a friend and as a soldier. I need you, Triadae, and so do the others."
"If you try to tell me that the world needs me, I'll give you another scar."
"As if you haven't given me enough over this last month or so? No, I won't tell you that the world needs you in particular. But the others do want to know that you are alright. Even Kalthor. Especially Kalthor. You can't stay here forever. You're already far too pale for my tastes. So, take this bath while I pack up your things." He flicked a few droplets of water at her and stood, a single finger tracing lines over his wound. The skin knit with a golden light, and he wagged the hand at her before walking out.
Triadae watched him go with a frown, waiting until he was out of sight to finally sigh and slump into the warm water. No bubbles, this time. It was just one of many things that reminded her of Kalthor, and with Kalthor came the memories of pain. Tiroth had not been wrong in believing that she had been healing. For a while, it did seem as though she would be alright. But when her letters continued to go unanswered, letters that she wrote in hopes of encouragement, her nightmares and dreams began to unsettle her, and she began to see horror lurking in every corner. Granted, she had never written expecting a response, but she had hoped. Hope seemed more and more like a foolish thing to grasp. She lowered herself further into the water, until only her eyes remained above the liquid, and scowled.
The druid had promised to help her. Promised to be there! Yet, no one had heard from her in months, and if they had... no one had told her. Triadae couldn't really remember the last time she had sent a letter, but really, she had given up. But that was her fault, was it not? "It is," she murmured, her eyes watching the bubbles that left her lips. "I did this to myself." Her body slid further, vanishing completely beneath the water. With her eyes open, she saw her hair drift lazily in the eddies made by her moving.
She held her breath, closing her eyes. Calm took hold of her, her heartbeat felt and heard in her every being. One minute passed, and her heartbeat slowed. She tapped her fingers on the sides of the tub, felt the water rush around her skin, and relished the dull thump that reverberated through the liquid. Two minutes passed. The burn started in her chest, and her eyes closed tighter as her back arched. "It's all my fault. I'm not strong enough to do this. I'm not strong enough to keep this going." Three minutes. The burn sharpened, her body beginning to scream for air as her heartbeat quickened in her distress. "Everyone keeps going. Everyone leaves me behind! Why can I not do the same as they can? How much more must I suffer?"
"Shut up."
The slender girl folded her arms over her chest, frowning at the redhead who looked at her with confusion. Sunlight streamed through gold and scarlet glass, painting the marble and carpet with the gem tones.
"No one told you to accept Tiroth's proposal, but you did anyway. You said yes to a man promising to take care of you, of us!" The blonde stepped forward, a hand cutting through the air in front of her. "Yet you're in here crying, because you hurt someone's feelings? I could name a hundred women who would kill to be in your place, Tria! How dare you be so selfish as to sit here and mourn your choice with tears and whimpers.
I can't believe Mother and Father left everything to you. You are supposed to be the one to take care of me? Maybe I should be the one to marry Tiroth. Maybe I should be the one to have everything you have! At least I would not regret a choice I made that was one to make me happy. Don't look at me like that," Miralai stepped closer, her pretty features pulled in a scowl, "just because I'm not as strong as you, doesn't mean I can't protect the people I love. As long as I can do that, it doesn't matter that I'm not the strongest person!
Kalthor left to become strong for you. So that you would never have to worry that you'd be unprotected. He followed Kael'thas while you stayed behind and became a Knight. You, the family princess. You, the one who was supposed to forever serve the Light. You fell in love, and forgot Kalthor. Now he has come back in search of you." Miralai's hand lifted, striking the seated woman across the face with a sound that rang in the otherwise empty room. "Do you really think he expected you to wait forever, the privileged heiress of a noble family? Do you think he entertained some silly thought of being your white knight?"
Her hand clasped between her breasts, that frown never wavering. "He's not a child anymore, sister. His heart is not made of glass, and no amount of tears and self-pity will make your words sting any less. If I can understand that at my age, why can you not do the same?" Miralai lifted her hand again, but her fingers only brushed against the tear-stained skin of her older sibling. Though her touch was gentle, her words remained firm and cold. "Get up from the floor, Tria. Get up and be the soldier that you are, and not the whimpering woman on the floor. I said get up!"
The strike that should have come never did, but the memory of it still sent her bolting upright, her lips parting as she gasped air back into her lungs, the fire becoming a searing pain that washed her mind clear. Her fingers grasped the edge of the bath, her shoulders slumping as wet strands of hair hung around her face. Green eyes closed, and she let the laughter that welled up behind the pain come until it shook her body and left her weak and tingling.
"Mira. Oh, you always were the stronger one. Even now," she tensed, pushing herself up to stand, her fingers clasped between her breasts, "even when you've been gone, even after all you've done. All the pain that you caused, you never regret it for a moment." She touched her cheek, gathering the few tears that had left her in her laughter. "It was always those lessons that I learned from. That was why I was suitable. That was why..."
The door to the bathroom opened again, and her thoughts tumbled around her as she spotted the slim figure that stood waiting. For a moment, the peace that had wrapped itself around her threatened to shatter again. Her fists clenched, and she felt Miralai's strike on her cheek as if it was that priceless moment all over again. From the door, Leybright watched her, and as those few moments passed, Triadae lifted her chin and stepped from the tub, her chin held high as she lifted a hand for the towel that the priestess held.
Wordlessly, Leybright handed over the item, and her eyes lowered as her fingers knit together in front of her. Triadae wrapped herself in the soft fabric before moving to step past the woman.
"I'm sorry."
The words were quiet; no one but an elf would have caught them, but it was not the words or who they had come from that made her pause. It was the tone, betraying fear and a sense of urgency behind them. The redhead peered at Leybright for a few moments, but no amount of pity leaked into her voice, and her tone was far from gentle as she finally spoke.
"Because of you, what we were sent to achieve was completed. The camps were disbanded, the betrayers were captured or killed. Because of you, we walked alive from the mess that I nearly put everyone into. Your method was not one that I would have done to my own, but it was necessary." She paused for a moment, and turned herself fully to the other woman.
"Tonight, we are leaving for the Highlands. Make certain that your things are packed, and that you are waiting at the mage's chambers. I trust that you are capable of communicating this to Kalthor for me in my place. There is more that I must do, and I do not have the time, nor the desire, to spend my time bickering. We leave at midnight, and you will be there. Both of you."
Leybright nodded once, and though her mouth opened as if to speak, she closed it once more and stepped from the door of the bath to cross to the one that led out of the bathroom. Her head turned, giving volume to her words though her eyes did not follow through. "I took it upon myself to have your weapon and armor repaired. You will find some enhancements were made, as well. If it does not fit...-"
"It will fit. I do not believe you are capable of anything less than a perfect job in your intent. Now leave." Triadae watched the woman walk away before looking to her bed, where the heavy armor she had not touched in several months now lay clean and repaired, as she had been told. Beside it, her greatsword fairly gleamed, an ethereal golden haze skimming along the blade.
Piece by piece, she donned the black and crimson armor, and as each buckle and fastening was closed, her movements became more sure. The months that had tainted her mind were closed away, locked in a place that she vowed she would not visit again even in her deepest moments of despair. Despite all her reservations, she felt as though that was one promise she would always be able to keep to herself, and by the time she pulled her gauntlets on, there was no more thought of the past.
She rolled her shoulders, a hand reaching out for the hilt of her beloved sword. A smile, rare as it was beautiful, appeared on her lips as she slid her hand from the hilt to the tip. "Hello, old friend. I'm sorry to have neglected you as poorly as I have." With an easy movement, she slid the blade into the scabbard across her back as she continued pulling items into her satchel. "When this is done," she mused while folding a few simple clothes, "I'm going to retire. I'll sell what I don't need, give Tiroth the house for him to give to Mira when she's of age. Me?" Her hand touched the hilt over her shoulder, and she smiled. "You and I will go sailing."
"Everything I don't need will sel for more than enough. I'll buy my own ship, hire my own crew. I'll see all the things that I've always wanted to, without the ties of loyalty and worry." She stuffed the clothes into her satchel, and moved to one of the windows, her plate-covered fingers trailing over it. "I'll sail forever," she whispered. Her eyes settled on the sea of gold and red that made up the forests of Eversong, her smile gentle. "What I want..."
Night had long fallen by the time she left her home, closing the door and letting her fingers drift over the metal handle. "It will be strange, to leave this all behind. I always thought my life would go so differently. No matter where I was, I was always thinking of others until I could do no more than feel lost when they were gone. Mother and Father, Miralai, Tiroth, Kalthor. Some I will never see again, others I could reach out and touch right now. How strange it feels, to plan a life where they are not my focus." Slowly, her hand dropped from the door, though her hesitancy remained.
"Safety. There is safety in these walls, and I have ever sought it without realizing how much I began to depend on it." Her foot moved, taking her one step, and then another, away from the door. "No more." Her voice was soft, but not as sad as the words made them seem. "This may be the last time that I see this place, but even if I do come here again, it will no longer be home. It will not be mine. I will not cower any longer, and I will not fight what is inevitable. The only way to go is forward... how very frightening, that seems to me."
She cast a final sad smile at the door, at the frosted glass that had been mended a hundred times. In her mind's eyes, she saw Tiroth flying through the windows, each shard of glass sparkling in the sun. She saw Kalthor laughing as he repaired the damage that always seemed to come. Images of her and Tiroth embracing on the doorstep, of the first moment he showed her the home they would live in together, of her kneeling in white robes in the garden... countless images ran through her mind, all of them faster than the last. A life lived backwards slowly came to a stop, a wall erecting itself over the cherished memories like the cover of a book closed over the pages.
Triadae turned from the door at last, the enchanted light on the doorstep fading as she herself become part of the shadows, and the trees engulfed her form.