You saved my heart
From being broken apart
You gave your love away
I can't find the words to say
That I'm thankful everyday
For the gift

~The Gift-Jim Brickman/Susan Ashton~

Khadgar awkwardly handed Cordana the flat white box.

"What is it?" she asked curiously. It was large and light.

"Something I hoped you would like," he said somewhat hesitantly. "Open it my dear."

Cordana put it down and removed the top. Inside was a fluffy mound of white tissue paper. She pulled it aside and beneath the layers lay a pale purple bit of fabric. Lifting it out, she held the delicate garment up. It was a dress of smooth silk, with finely crafted lace and ribbons and tiny roses that made up the shoulder straps. It looked like something the nobility would wear to a social gathering in a garden. Cordana had never in her life owned, nor worn anything as beautiful.

Sadness descended on her like a heavy blanket. Khadgar's lovely gift was everything she felt she was not: refined, elegant and feminine. Cordana had always avoided looking at herself in reflective surfaces, afraid she would see how unattractive she was. Her brother had always told her she looked like a wild boar, with bristly hair and a beastly face. He had said she was substandard for a Kaldorei because she was shorter than most of them, and she had no facial markings because no clan embraced her as their own. As a schoolgirl the others avoided her, and she always believed it was because she was ugly and didn't measure up. The human family she had served for those few short years in Stormwind insisted she keep her eyes on the ground and never make eye contact with them. She could not blame them, who would want to look at a wild boar with a beastly face? She didn't understand why a man as handsome and brilliant as Khadgar could even look at her the way he did. She always surmised it was because mages were all insane, or so she had been told.

Cordana prided herself in her strength in battle, and used that to identify with. She told herself she didn't need to be beautiful, just strong and deadly. But now, as she held this wonderful dress in her hands, and felt that wearing it would diminish its beauty, she deeply wished it were not so.

"I...I cannot wear this, Khadgar," she said softly, laying it back on its bed of tissue paper. She could not turn and face him, her eyes stung with tears. Tears were weakness, and she did not want him to see that in her, not ever. Cordana had learned not to cry long ago, and was adept at repressing it. She felt his warm hands on her arms, and it made her resolve that much more difficult.

"Why ever not, Cordana? Do you not like the color? You can pick out another one if you like!"

She shook her head, afraid to speak lest her voice crack and give away her emotions. She fought with herself for composure. Khadgar turned her around and lifted her chin. He saw the lackluster glow of her eyes, diminished as they were when affected by strong negative emotions. Her jaw was set hard, and her entire body stiff and unyielding.

"Cordana? Why are you so upset?"

She turned and looked at the dress, than back at him. "It is a dress fit for a lady, a beautiful, feminine one like the Commander's wife," she said, her voice soft and shaky. "Not for one such as I."

Khadgar could feel the sorrow that emanated from Cordana's face as she stared through him, her expression hard. He could not understand nor imagine why she felt the way she did, he knew next to nothing about her life. Who had tormented her so cruelly that it had twisted her mind into a miasma of untruths? He gently stroked her hair, than took her hand and led her to a chair.

"Sit here, Cordana," he said softly. "Let me show you something."

He left the room and returned, moments later, with a small leather bound journal. He handed it to her. "This is what I see when I look at you," he said.

She opened the little book slowly. It was filled with sketches.

Of her.

She recognized herself in her encounter suit, standing, crouching, creeping, fighting. Page after page of herself in action.

Then she saw the portrait. The Kaldorei that stared back at her from the paper was a face she did not recognize. The lips were slightly turned up in a smile, the eyes soft. It was a most beautiful face. She ran her fingertips along the finely drawn lines, careful not to smudge them. Her name was written in a most elegant script along the bottom. There was no wild boar with bristly hair and a beastly face looking back at her. Just a night elf maiden who was everything but. It made no sense. Why had everyone in her life treated her like a pariah?

Khadgar knelt down on the floor in front of her. "You see? How can you not know how beautiful you truly are, Cordana? The first time you took your helmet off, at the fire in the ruins and handed it to Thrall...you looked at me across the flames, and for the first time in my life I forgot how to breathe. I was completely and totally mesmerized by you, and have been every day since then. If anyone ever told you that you were less than magnificent than they were insane and cursed with blindness, for you are without question the most exquisite and enthralling Kaldorei I have ever seen in all my years."

There was no guile in his voice or expression. He spoke the words with complete conviction. Khadgar desperately wanted Cordana to see herself with his eyes, but even his considerable magical skill could not make that happen. He stood up and retrieved her dress, and handed it to her.

"It would honor me if you would wear this for dinner tonight," he said softly. "We do not need to leave the Tower, but can stay right here, just the two of us, if that would please you."

She held the dress to her cheek and nodded. She still figured that poor Khadgar was probably insane, but if he saw her the way he did in his sketches, wasn't his opinion the only one that mattered? Even if she truly was a bristly boar to herself and the rest of the world, to the man she loved she was beautiful.

Khadgar pulled Cordana to her feet and embraced her, pressing tightly against her body. His lips sought hers and he kissed her deeply until they were both breathless and overcome with desire.

Cordana pulled back and looked into his eyes. "Khadgar," she whispered. "I...I..."

He smiled. "I love you too, Cordana."