Disclaimer: I don't own World of Warcraft, or anything Blizzard, only my original creations.
Hi there, it's me, ya author!
Back on my soapbox to let you all know that I appreciate the warm welcome back and thanking you all for your kind words and support!
I won't take up too much of your time, so I'll keep today's notes fairly short!
First, based on some feedback from past polls, the rating of this story will likely be changing to Mature by Chapter 20. I've mentioned before (I think) that I want to explore and incorporate different themes and writing into this story, and the rating should match the content, as well as updated tags that will also be adjusted by Ch 20.
And finally, I've got a few content warnings for this chapter before you all begin. You can find them below.
**Content Warning: Body Image Issues/Struggles, Body Shaming, and Self-Esteem Issues**
Otherwise, I hope that you all enjoy reading!
(And for those of you who read only on FanFiction, you are no doubt aware that the site is a bit broken at the moment. I have not been able to see stats for weeks now and I've read and seen that notifications are also still not fixed yet. If you are just now getting a notice of an update, please be sure to check that you are all caught up, as we have made other updates prior to this one, and I don't want anyone to be out of order.)
Part 17: Stiff Upper Lip
Two days and two nights had passed since Nadia had been brought to the Violet Citadel, though they went by at an achingly slow pace that left the young mage feeling restless and uneasy.
A majority of those 48 hours had been spent either in the rooms she'd been assigned holding onto her rushing train of thought for dear life or wandering around the Citadel like some sort of aimless tourist. It was a much more ideal option than sitting around while her imagination conjured up all sorts of scenarios and waiting for her sanity to finally teeter off the edge, even if it wasn't a very stimulating activity.
If she could leave, she would have. If she could have written more letters, she would have done that too. But her one attempt at finding a way back out into the city had caused the stiff guards posted near one such exit to stop her in her tracks and inform her that under no circumstances was she to leave or go anywhere without the permission of the Council of Six. Upon hearing this, the mage had made the slightly panicked decision to march all the way to Archmage Modera's chamber and request an explanation that had probably sounded more like a demand at the time.
To her credit, the older mage had been very patient and tried to calm her down (though not to much success) while providing additional context on the conditions of her stay.
"It would be unwise, and very unsafe, for that matter, to allow you to continue as you have been," the Archmage had explained
"I've been more or less fine up until now," had been her retort, though even at the time she knew it didn't hold much stock. And so did Modera.
"You have been lucky up until now. And it was different before. Before, this was all seen as a scandal not to be taken as fact. Or perhaps some elaborate rumor that had gotten out of control. But now that you have accepted, and now that both the Alliance and Horde are poised to make an official announcement any day now, it is indeed a fact. And people behave very differently when something goes from being fiction to fact."
Nadia couldn't really argue with that, wondering to herself if perhaps Soh'shagon and Morren had been more proactive in her safety than she originally assumed, and she immediately felt rather grateful for their presence, even if she hadn't seen them for days.
That slight sense of security faded almost instantly after she had asked if she could send some letters, only to be denied. When anxiously questioning the reason, Modera had, in a slightly more apologetic tone than before, clarified that the Council was reluctant to allow any further correspondence after her one letter to the Warchief of the Horde had set historic events in motion without anyone being the wiser. There had been something else about official channels of communication and protecting her privacy, but Nadia hadn't stuck around to listen and had stormed out of the room while ignoring the calls for her to come back.
Was it a childish thing to do? Probably, but the young mage had been desperate to get out of there before Modera could see the frustrated tears forming in her eyes.
Feeling flushed and like her heart was about to beat out of her chest, Nadia had retreated to her room and locked the door. More panic then set in upon realizing that she could not send any letters, and with that no way to get word to some very specific people in her life who she desperately needed to contact.
The thought had crossed her mind that she could always ask someone to send something on her behalf, but she'd banished the idea without thinking twice. Some things needed to be done privately, and this was one of them.
She couldn't even begin to imagine what would happen if someone who had no right knowing her business were to find out about…
No, she had to think up a way to get something out of the Citadel and fast.
Hence, the aforementioned wandering. It had started in a daze while she tried to think up a solution to her problem, then later became the only activity she could really do other than sleep, and then finally just something she irrationally did just for the sake of doing. Nadia found herself walking from one room of the Citadel to another, frequenting both places she was familiar with and finding herself in areas that she had never seen before at the same time. And almost always with a Mageguard or two about five paces behind her at all times.
Nadia wandered through libraries and labs, past other students or apprentices who would stare and whisper whenever she floated by a doorway or around a room, and would stop to gaze thoughtless at one magical artifact or another that would be placed in a hallway before her feet grew tired and she would move on to the next.
And so, two days passed with the mage trying and failing to come up with a plan while marching in circles around the Violet Citadel. She had found sleep hard to come by the night of the second day, tossing and turning with only a very troubled mind to keep her company as she came to realize that there basically no options available to her that would get her letters out without someone finding out.
She must have dozed off at some point during the late hour, because she ended up being startled awake after what felt like only a minute passed by a fanatical knocking on her door.
The mage jerked up with a gasp as the loud rapping against the wood had her whipping her head around in a panicked yet tired effort to find the source. The agitated sounds ceased after a handful of seconds, giving Nadia a moment to get her bearings as she huffed out a sigh and readjusted herself into a more comfortable sitting position.
Pushing the few curls of hair that had strayed into her mouth out of her face, the woman slowly blinked and turned to look out the window she'd found herself staring out of more than once during her stay. It seemed that it was going to be another overcast morning, if the thick, hazy clouds covering the atmosphere had anything to say about it. They blotted out what little sunlight dared to be present in the sky, giving the room a sort of gloomy glow that sapped all the life out of the once cheerful looking colors of the walls and furniture.
Nadia sighed again while rubbing sleep out of her eyes and pulling the blankets further up along her body as her brain finally registered just how cold it was given the lack of a fire and the early hour. What time was it?
All too soon, the fervent knocking started up again and echoed throughout the once still air of the room, causing the young woman to jump involuntarily at the noises.
"One moment please," the mage called out with a dry strain to her voice. She untangled from her covers and stood, her body blearily protesting with each step as she tried to find a robe that would cover her shivering form that had nothing on except for a faded nightshirt. Just as she had one in her grasp, the door suddenly burst open, and Nadia yelped while trying to cover herself as a human woman with a stern sneer marched into the room completely unannounced. Three younger ladies flocked through the door behind the older matron, all wearing similar outfits and disinterested expressions on their faces.
The older woman wore a dress of dark blue and black accents that only enhanced the serious expression on her face, the crow's feet and frown lines around her eyes and mouth pinching as she almost scowled. Her dark brown hair streaked with lines of grey and white was pulled back into a tight bun that Nadia was sure was contributing to her unhappy disposition, and her steely grey eyes were colder than the room.
Nobody moved for several moments after the small swarm of uppity looking women had finished filing in. The eldest in the set looked the startled and slightly trembling mage up and down three times, and then her sneer deepened.
"Is this really what they have given me to work with?"
Nadia felt herself tense up as the lady snapped her fingers towards the other three, causing them to break their formation as two stepped back out of the room while the other briskly moved over to the fireplace and began the task of bringing it back to life.
"Oh, do drop the façade." The order was bit out in an accented Gilnean tongue, and the woman's eyes glanced her up and down again with distaste, "There is no point in feigning modesty."
The younger lady who had been tending to the fireplace had succeed in lighting the multiple logs she had placed within it, causing warmth and light to begin filling the room. Despite this, the mage only tightened the robe in her arms as she pressed it closer to her body, trying to level a stare as frosty as the older woman's right back at her.
"Who are you? And what are you doing in here?" Even though the woman was much shorter than her by a good margin, she somehow still managed to look down her nose at Nadia as the mage shifted uncomfortably where she stood.
"I am Lady Thornton of Gilneas, and these are my assistants." The woman responded without missing a beat, "And we have been charged with making sure you are a proper lady before you enter society and represent the Alliance. Though…"
Thornton stepped forward and snatched the robe out of the mage's nervous hands, sniffing in distaste as Nadia hugged her arms tightly around her chest and shoulders.
"It might be an impossible task."
"A 'proper lady'? You must be joking." Nadia repeated, clearly put off by the multiple implied insults that had been directed her way as her hands tightened their hold on her shoulders.
"I do not joke," Thornton sighed with a roll of her eyes. The door swung open again as the other two women returned, each carrying the handles of a large wooden chest that they lowered to the floor with a heavy thud before leaving again to no doubt retrieve more items of mystery. The same assistant who had revived the fire had also lit the sconces in the room, and she moved back to her Lady's side after finally restoring full light to the room.
The older woman wordlessly handed the robe to the remaining assistant, whom Nadia decided to refer to as 'One', as she continued to sneer directly at the mage.
"Chin up," Thornton instructed while stepping forward to examine the half-troll more closely, "and for the Light's sake, put down your arms."
Nadia stayed frozen for a moment longer before hesitantly giving into the lady's demands, lowering her arms and angling her head upwards as the woman began to walk around her in a slow circle. In front of her, assistants 'Two' and 'Three' returned, one with a folding screen clenched in her hands as she expertly maneuvered it through the doorway and the other with an embellished, painted box that reminded the mage of something she might have seen couriers carrying around Dalaran for one wealthy buyer or another.
"Hmm." Lady Thornton came to stand in front of the mage again, looking down at her lower legs and bare feet with a shake of her head before bringing her gaze back up, "It is difficult to tell much of anything so long as you are wearing this…thing."
She glared at Nadia's faded nightgown and another sharp snap of her fingers had her assistants hurrying about again. One moved to the chest that had been brought in and opened it up, briskly pulling out various pieces of cloth and garments to lie out on a chair or on the bed. Two and Three set to work situating the now opened folding screen on the opposite side of the room, before taking over One's task as the aforementioned woman marched back over to Thornton with two purple garments in her hands.
"Put these on."
Nadia blinked rapidly as One stiffly held out the clothing to her, and an embarrassed flush spread across her ears and cheeks once she finally realized what they were.
"These…this is underwear!"
"Oh, good. You at least know what this is," Thornton brusquely observed before pointing a thin, well-manicured finger at the screen. "On. Now."
The mage began sputtering as she rooted her feet more firmly where she stood, much to the annoyance of the older woman whose near-permanent scowl intensified, "W-what exactly is the point of all this?"
The Lady made a great show of sighing and rolling her eyes to the ceiling at the question. "I must assess your physique and appearance, see how you carry yourself. How else am I to determine what assets you have and how I might possibly enhance them?"
"I don't think that's necessary – "
"I assure you, it is. Now," Thornton pointed again towards the changing screen, "change."
Nadia felt the frown on her face deepen as she and the other woman continued to stare each other down. She considered just leaving: there was nobody who could make her stay, and she was under no obligation to take part in any of this. It would be very easy just to shove her way past everyone and walk right out the door. Hell, a part of her thought about just jumping right out the window and casting a quick Slow Fall spell to lower herself to safety.
But, Modera's words from before replayed in her mind. She had been right that it probably was no longer safe for her to be out in the city, her memory suddenly replaying the events at the Crystal Chalice and a few other encounters before then. And the thought of walking around the Violet Citadel in nothing more than an old nightshirt made the poor mage blush just thinking about it.
Grudgingly, she accepted the clothes from One's still outstretched hands and shuffled away to move behind the changing screen. Nadia examined the pieces in her hands as she heard the other four women continue to traipse about out of view, and her nose scrunched up at seeing that the pieces were probably going to be too small for her.
"Just once," she mumbled to herself while hanging each piece over the top edge of the screen and then agitatedly pulling her nightshirt over her head, "I would appreciate it if what I'm being forced to wear actually came in my size."
Her initial assumption that she was going to have to fight her way into the garments correct very quickly as Nadia tugged the lower piece up her hips, trying to ignore how they pinched at her skin and felt far too tight around her backside, and then struggled to close the clasps of the bra that dug into her ribcage.
"We are waiting," she heard Lady Thornton declare without an ounce of patience. The changing screen was suddenly moved away before Nadia had a chance to respond and she instinctively covered her torso with her arms.
"Turn around," the older woman made a spinning motion with her finger as she glowered at Nadia critically from head to toe. She stepped forward after the mage had done what she'd been told, albeit warily and with a defiant groan, and grasped both back straps of the ill fitted top in both hands.
"What are you-," the taller woman's words were cut off with a sharp gasp of surprise and pain when Thornton yanked the garment closed without warning and did up the clasps in harsh, practiced motions, leaving her gasping for air as the thing locked painfully around her chest.
"Stop squirming," her Ladyship lightly smacked away Nadia's hands when she reached backwards to grasp at the clasps that were cutting off her air supply. Her unimpressed gaze then traveled up and down her charge once more, leading to a clucking of her tongue snappishly. The mage scowled over her shoulder at the noise as she continued to shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"These are the wrong size." She tried to protest, but another quick pull at the clasps already grating into the skin of her back cut off whatever else she wanted to say with another unintentional wheeze.
"There is nothing wrong with the attire." Thornton put special emphasis on that last word and forced another embarrassed flush to color Nadia's cheeks and ears. The woman then heaved a great, unnecessary sigh, as though all of this were some major inconvenience, and grasped the mage by the wrist, "Come. Let's see if a better light improves anything."
Nadia found herself getting pulled to stand in the middle of the room. Assistant One stood off to the side, that same bored expression on her face as she patiently waited for instruction, while Two and Three continued to lay out various bolts of cloth and weaves of fabric on her bed.
The items themselves were of fine quality, the mage could see that, looking like something that wealthy Dalaran citizens would wear daily just to go about their errands. There were all sorts of colors and patterns, and Nadia became distracted for a moment before a sudden pinch to her elbow brought her back to reality.
"Stand up straight. Do not arch your back." Lady Thornton then waved over at One without actually looking in the assistant's direction, "Take notes. We will need to save this information for any tailors that will take on the challenge of her wardrobe."
"I am perfectly capable of choosing my own clothes," the half-troll interjected as she watched the first assistant come to stand at her matron's side with a notebook she had procured from who knew where in one hand and a tape measure in the other.
"Whatever is passable for clothing that you wear now does not compare to the styles of the well-born ladies in the Alliance." Thornton held out her hand flair of her wrist, and One quickly placed the tape measure into her grasp, "It is why I am here. Now hold still."
Before Nadia could ask why or try to interrupt again, she found herself clenching her jaw shut tight and stiffening up as Lady Thornton looped her arms around her middle for a brief moment before stepping back and pulling the tape measure flush against her waist. The older woman glanced at the lines that matched up with one end of the tape and started tsk-ing again before calling out a number that made Nadia feel both oh-so very small and too much all at the same time.
"We will need to put you on a reducing diet to be sure." Her cold hands shifted the twine higher up nearer the half-troll's lower ribs, declared another number to her assistant, who stoically etched it down into her notebook, before moving it downward to loop around her lower half, "Though, what we are going to do about these hips, I cannot say."
"Excuse-," Nadia flinched and her hands clenched so tightly that her nails nearly cut into the skin of her palm when frigid fingers wrapped the tape measure that had been creeping over her body and skin around her tightly bound chest.
"Honestly, girl, do you care nothing for your figure?" Thornton spoke out loud with another disapproving huff as she handed the tape measure back to One. "Finish up here," the older woman said as beckoned over Two and Three with another crisp wave, "while I start to work on how we might make you appear marginally more presentable."
Nadia didn't even bother to process the slight as her lungs tightened when she felt another set of cold hands begin wrapping around her legs. Already uncomfortable from the pinching of the clothing that did little to make her feel less on display, the mage had to stop herself from physically lashing out at the sheer distress of being touched and tugged and critiqued in a way that was starting to bring back up all sorts of memories and feeling she thought she had long since buried.
If Lady Thornton and her assistants noticed that Nadia was so tense that she was nearly trembling and that her breaths were coming in shaky and short, they must not have cared as they continued to either shift the measuring tape from one limb to another or hold up various pieces of garments to the mage's body.
"We should avoid reds for obvious reasons, not that they would be flattering anyway." One bolt of fabric was handed off to an assistant to place back into the chest it had come from while another brought over two more, "Let's try pastels, see if they might make her appear more maiden like. But no frills; we're going for demure not ditsy."
"Stop…" Nadia grit out the word through clenched teeth, even as she bristled and shut her eyes tight when the tape measure wrapped around her forearm. Someone pressed an itchy fabric to her front and she twitched again as the tape moved up her arm, "Stop."
Freezing hands touched her collarbone, and the frightened chill that shot down her spine forced her eyes back open and she took in a sharp breath.
"Stop it!"
Lady Thornton and her assistants halted as they stared with wide eyes at the half-troll that stood much taller than them who now had a fiery blaze set firmly in her eyes. Without thinking twice, Nadia snatched the scratchy and grossly shaded grey strip of cloth out of the older woman's hands and turned her attention solely in her direction.
"I do not need a special diet, because what the hell do my hips have to do with a peace treaty?!" She tossed the fabric to the floor and realized that she probably looked rather ridiculous, standing in the middle of the room in nothing more than ill fitted underwear with her hair sticking out at every possible odd angle, but she kept going, "These clothes are too small - and all of your hands are very cold by the way - so if you don't mind, could you please wait just a moment for your hands to warm up or to get the right size, and maybe then you can explain to me why you're going to try to squeeze me into all these…things when it has nothing to do with preparing me whatsoever!"
Nadia couldn't tell if Lady Thornton was shocked or just annoyed by her sudden outburst. But it was clear as day that her little tantrum didn't help any by the way her momentarily stunned expression morphed back into a censuring scowl. The matron snapped her fingers, sending all three of her assistants scurrying to the other side of the room. Her eyes never left the mage, and she then pointed a stiff finger at the bed with a huff.
"Sit." When Nadia refused to move and glared back, Thornton huffed again and pinched her face into a tight smile that made her look more nauseous than accommodating, "Please."
Rather than engaging in some sort of awkward stalemate, the mage sighed and slowly lowered herself onto the mattress. Pressing her knees together as the small burst of fortitude from before gave way to returning apprehension, Nadia turned her gaze firmly out the window as the older woman moved to stand directly in front of her. Lady Thornton crossed her thin arms over her chest, staring down her nose at the younger woman, even though her sitting now had them more at eye level than before.
"These things are what will help you represent the Alliance as a proper candidate for marriage. We know nothing about your mother, and perhaps it is better that way, but what is indisputable fact is that your father is Lord Ravenscroft." Thornton began tapping her foot impatiently, the sharp rapping of her shoe now being the only other noise in the otherwise still room besides her voice, "Which means that if he's going to acknowledge you as his own to be considered for this treaty, that will make you a part of his household. A lady."
"But I am not a lady," the mage couldn't help but sigh while scratching anxiously at her hair, a gesture that seemed to annoy Thornton even more.
"Obviously. But you will be, because I am going to make you one. Because that is what you must become if this sham of an armistice is going to work."
A proper Lady – a proper Alliance Lady – is what we have agreed to procure. Anything less than that would be an insult to ourselves; who cares what the Horde thinks. And that does not mean that you can just offer yourself up like a paltry, hastily put together snack to be finished off in one bite as if that will satisfy anyone involved in this agreement."
Being a Lady means being poised and prim, subtle and polite and refined. She takes care of herself and does not complain. She is obedient and does not lose her head, and is certainly not prone to sudden outbursts of petty temper. She fulfills her responsibility of marrying well, supports her husband, and does nothing that will bring shame upon his name. She performs her duty of bearing him heirs – strong sons – and staying out of his business so that he may manage their affairs as head of their house. All of this she does while being accomplished and a credit to those around her. That is what it is to be a Lady. That is the price to pay for the privilege of being high born and all that comes with it. That is what you must be and what people must see."
Thornton stepped forward, placing herself just an inch too much into Nadia's personal space and making herself seem more imposing than the mage already felt her to be.
"Do you know what I see when I look at you?"
The tapping of her foot had stopped, leaving the question to hang in the air for a few seconds like a heavy fog that dampened both the mood and Nadia's already wavering and paper thin pride and acted as a prerequisite for the words that came next.
"I see an awkward, unruly woman with a past that is likely shrouded in shame and discord who has no sense of decorum: a half-breed with no self-control, who has more of a fondness for sweetmeats and mouthing off than she does for putting her best foot forward in any sense of the word. Nobody knows why you are doing this, as magnanimous as it is, and I cannot help but think that you see it all as some sort of little adventure or game that will finally make you feel special."
"You don't know anything about me!" The words came out sharp and terse, doing nothing to mask the antagonism in Nadia's voice as she fought hard to keep the tears that were brimming at the corners of her eyes from falling. She had been allowing far too many people and circumstances to push her to waterworks recently, and she would be damned if she let some ghoulish old harpy who'd she had hardly known for five minutes do the same.
Lady Thornton paused, and before the mage had time to react she reached forward to grab her chin and tilt her head up so that they were looking right at each other. Watery, almost-gold orbs met grey, and for the briefest of moments the mage could see something akin to a weary kind of melancholy behind them.
"Do not cry." This was not like the commands that had come before. It was gentler, if only by a hair's margin, and felt more like guidance that was to be upheld well after the day was done, "Never let them see you cry. You have had plenty of time to weep or wail or whatever else you needed in order to feel better. Now there is work to do."
The older woman sighed, though this time it was not from displeasure or impatience, but something else.
"You are right; I don't know a thing about you. And that doesn't matter." Her unwavering frown suddenly became pensive, and then, even in her frustration, Nadia couldn't help but note the tiniest of hopeful glints that appeared in her otherwise cold stare, "Because if somehow succeeding in turning you into a proper Alliance woman of standing means that my people and I will be able to return home to Gilneas, then I am going to do just that…by any means necessary."
With another quick wave of her free wrist, the attendants who had been previously standing still as statues off the side resumed their busying about. One brought over the engraved box that Nadia had noticed earlier. Setting it beside the mage atop the bed that was quickly becoming buried in brocade and taffeta and velvet and all sorts of other fabrics that the mage had only ever seen in store windows.
Thornton opened the box herself, the first time she had done any sort of menial task on her own since stepping foot in the room, and took out what looked like a miniature sort of magnifying glass.
"Chin up," she then said, though she didn't wait for Nadia to comply as she pinched the half-troll by the chin again and tilted her head up. Thornton then began to hover the small tool in her hand over the mage's face, earning her another frown that was promptly ignored.
A few moments of silence dragged on as Nadia contemplated the words that the older woman had spoken in an effort to not squirm under her serious gaze that was now staring directly at her face.
"You have a very narrow definition of a Lady," she finally muttered after a few more moments of silence in an attempt to make some sort of conversation. Not that she really wanted to talk to this woman, necessarily, but perhaps all of this would be easier to bear if at least words were being said.
"My 'definition'," Thornton angled her head to the side and brought her small eyeglass uncomfortably close to Nadia's eye, "is what has worked for hundreds of years before this moment and will continue to work long after it has passed."
"Worked for who?" The mage wouldn't deny the small bit of satisfaction she got when the older woman's eye twitched irritably at her words, "I've met a few ladies in Dalaran before and none of them seemed very refined, let alone happy."
"I cannot speak for any nobility in Dalaran, but the high born ladies of Stormwind and Gilneas are perfectly content with their roles."
"And what about the nobility of Ironforge or… high born night elven women? Shouldn't I learn from them too if I'm to be like all Alliance ladies?"
"The last I checked you were not a dwarf or a night elf. Now, smile." Thornton rolled her eyes when Nadia shot her a grimace, "I must examine your teeth, girl."
"Oh," the mage still frowned but slowly forced her mouth open anyway for the human woman to get a proper look inside. Lady Thornton closely examined her incisors before nodding once, letting Nadia relax her jaw before turning her attention to her hair. "But they are still part of the Alliance, so shouldn't I be learning at least something from all of the other factions? Or at least about them?"
"Your father is human. And the Alliance is led by King Varian Wrynn, who is also human, so no."
"Ah, so only the human side of things matters? Noted. It sounds dumb, but noted." Thornton's eye twitched again, but she otherwise showed no outward sign of being put off, and Nadia sighed, "But…what if I don't want to be a 'lady' anyway? Or, at least not what you consider to be one."
"Once you are married and the ink on this treaty is good and dry, you are free to negotiate with your…husband on what you do or do not wish to be." The eyeglass moved from her hairline to her ear, "Until then, your education has been put into my hands, and that means learning how to be a lady."
I don't think that my future husband get the final say in who I am, even if he is the Warchief, Nadia thought to herself while frowning deeper. "Then this education should include more than just tutoring from two factions; I would be very interested to know what the Exodar would consider to be 'ladylike' after all."
This finally caused Lady Thornton to take a step back with an unimpressed sniff as she crossed her arms and tapped her eyeglass impatiently. "Do you always have to turn everything into some sort of misplaced debate?"
"Must be a side effect of being so unruly, I guess," Nadia deadpanned, much to the older woman's annoyance as she huffed for a second time.
"Anyway, back to the task at hand. I am pleased to find that you have very good hygiene."
"You don't have to sound so surprised," the mage said under her breathe, though Thornton ignored her.
"In addition, you have decent features and rather sufficient skin and hair…even if they are all bone dry." Thornton moved to sift through the contents of her strange box again. The tiny magnifying glass was put back, and a small receptacle of some sort was taken out in its place, "We'll need to start with a regimen to help your skin immediately if we are to recover its health. Take this."
Nadia eyed the canister suspiciously as it was practically thrust into her hands, "What is it?"
"It's a proper face cream. Apply it to three times a day for the next few months."
"And what if I don't want to?"
"If you want whatever moisture remains in your skin to be sapped out from the desert heat and sun of Kalimdor, then by all means, continue with whatever lackluster regimen you have been doing up until now." Lady Thornton countered without so much as blinking as she waved to her assistants. They then began the dizzying task of swishing about the room to collect the tools of their trade and other belongings, "Ah, before I forget."
The matron reached into one of the deep pockets that were sewn into her dress to retrieve a small, velvet covered box and handed it to the mage with more care than she had exhibited throughout most of her day.
"Open it," she said and then watched as Nadia uncertainly pried the lid open to reveal a necklace with a large green stone embedded into the pendant. The mage just stared at it to the point where Thornton got tired of waiting and sighed, "It's a gift from your father."
Whatever reaction the older woman was expecting or hoping for, she didn't get it as Nadia scrunched up her nose and held the piece of jewelry away from her as though it had some sort of foul smell.
"I don't want it."
"Don't be absurd, that is nearly a four carat emerald!"
"What does that even mean!"
"It means that it is a very generous gift, one that you will accept graciously."
"No."
"Oh for…" Lady Thornton snatched back the box, took out the necklace, and then practically wrestled it around the squirming mage's neck. The younger woman attempted to fight away her hands, but eventually conceded with a frustrated groan, and Thornton did up the clasp and adjusted the pendant to sit perfectly Nadia's chest, "There. Much better."
"It's…heavy." The mage craned her neck to glare down at the jewelry around her neck, "And ugly."
"It is the style."
"Well, the style is ugly."
"You will grow to like it," Thornton's tone left little room for more back and forth as she shut the lid on her engraved box. "We will be departing now that our work is done but are scheduled to return later this evening. Before we get back, please choose what you prefer from the fabrics we have provided for you."
"Why?"
"So that we can get started on your new wardrobe, obviously. Another gift from your father, though this one is more of a necessity."
"Khadgar already provided me with funds for some new things. I don't need new clothes," Nadia blurted out with another glare down at the gaudy jewel weighing down on her sternum, "and I definitely don't want anything from my dad."
"And where are these clothes that your Master has supposedly provided for you?" Lady Thornton mockingly surveyed the room as though searching intently for the hypothetical garments; "I do not see them here."
"Um…" Nadia trailed off as she tried to find the right words, but then realized that there wasn't really any good way to explain that she really only purchased one thing, and from somewhere that the snotty woman would absolutely disapprove of, as well as giving away the rest altogether. Even though she was genuinely excited to see what Miss Daybrook would create, and even happier that she had been able to support the craft of someone dear to her and help out those from her home, telling someone about it would certainly be a mistake.
"Well?" Thornton raised one thin brow as she watched the mage refused to respond and instead grumpily crawl backwards onto the bed and sit down atop the center of the mattress with her knees curled up into her chest, "If that is the case, then please select some fabrics by the time we return. In the meantime, do you have anything to wear here with you? I should like a few references when we visit these city's tailors."
The mage angled her head towards the vanity where she had stored some items that Khadgar had arranged to be brought here not long after she'd been told to remain in the Violet Citadel. He hadn't delivered the items himself; in fact, Nadia still hadn't seen him since the council meeting and they certainly hadn't spoken.
Lady Thornton stepped over to the piece of furniture and instantly began to shuffle through its various drawers and cabinets. She balked suddenly, and then slowly pulled out a cheap looking yellow item pinched precariously between her index finger and thumb.
"Is this what passes for clothing in Dalaran?"
"Oh," Nadia felt her shoulders slump once she realized what Thornton had pulled out, "don't take that one, it's not mine. I…spilled something on it and took it home to get the stains out before giving it back to the owner."
"I suppose that should give me some comfort that this isn't actually yours." Her Ladyship pressed her lips together into a thin line, but tossed the offending dress that had come from Gilda's establishment off to the side without saying anything else about it. She then rifled through another drawer for a few seconds more and pulled out a dress and one blouse, looking entirely unimpressed with them as she did so. Thornton tucked both items under her arm just as her assistants had finished gathering all of their belongings and were now standing like snobby ducks in a row near the door.
Nadia's eyes followed the older woman from her spot on the bed, and her eyebrows knit together in concern, "I will get my things back, right?"
"You will not be needing them soon enough, but if you must insist, then perhaps." The Lady handed the items to One and then spun around to extend the tiniest curtsy there ever was towards the mage, "We will return after dinner to go over more details of what you will be expected to learn as a part of this treaty, as well as retrieve your selections from the fabrics we have provided and try on some samples, so don't go stuffing your face at supper time."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Nadia responded with a tight-lipped smile that causes Thornton to roll her eyes. She then remembers what she's currently wearing and grouchily tugs at one of the straps still digging into her skin, "And what about these, don't you want them back?"
"No need. My advice: you should probably get used to wearing them. Now, if that is all, then we will take our leave. Good day, Miss Ravenscroft."
Her Ladyship nodded once more at the mage before she snapped her fingers. One marched forward to open the door for Thornton, who sashayed out without so much as looking back, while assistants Two and Three shuffle out with the large chest from before balanced between them. The door closed swiftly on their heels, leaving Nadia alone in a room much messier than before and with a head even more muddled than it had been all week.
The mage looked down at the gaudy piece of jewelry still round her neck. It wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't so much…and the fact that it was from her father, of all people, only made it worse.
"Well, now what?" Nadia sighed to herself while absentmindedly thumbing at the necklace and leaning back onto the bed. She hissed slightly when one of the many bolts of fabric that had been left behind scratched at her arm and then squirmed to find a more comfortable position. It wasn't an easy task, seeing as there wasn't much space left on the mattress, and she eventually gave up with a resigned huff before inching forward to stand up.
Once upright, the mage looked about the room and slowly became more incensed when seeing the state that it had been left in. What had once been a tidy space was now rather cluttered as clothes and small boxes were now scattered haphazardly atop furniture and on the floor.
"Honestly," Nadia muttered and then set about the tedious task of trying to clean up She started with the floor, snatching up one tunic or petticoat that had definitely not been in there before and tossing it into a chair before moving onto the next pile, and as she cleaned her muttering got louder.
"You would think that a noble lady would be a bit more orderly," she said out loud with another frustrated huff before moving over to the vanity to shove the items that had been left sticking out back into their drawers, "or at the very least not leave a place worse off than when they arrived."
Nadia saw that terrible dress from Gilda's and stepped over to pick it up but then froze when she saw her likeness in the mirror that stood harmlessly between one side of the dresser and the window. The mage swallowed, her throat feeling dry all of a sudden, and, against her better judgment, shuffled closer to the reflection.
She looked absolutely preposterous.
For some reason, Nadia couldn't tear her eyes away even as the stung while she watched her hands wander and press up and down over the exposed skin of her body. The undergarments looked as bad as they felt around her waist and shoulders, and the mage became even more acutely aware of the way they squeezed and pinched atop her form. Her hair was a mess, and her eyes were bloodshot and watery from the tears that were forming. But that wasn't why she wanted to cry.
Her hands shifted to rest one atop her chest and the other over her stomach, and she forced a shuddery breath into her lungs.
Nadia had never been so audacious as to delude herself into thinking that she was pretty. But after the encounter with Lady Thornton, and now alone and staring at herself in the mirror, all those insecurities that she had done so well to shove down and ignore over the years came flooding back.
A majority of the other women she dealt with from day to day were small and slim, as the elves and humans that made up a majority of the population of Dalaran tended to be. It was them for whom style was for and beauty was modeled after.
Not her.
Not with her chest that was too large and hips and thighs that were too wide. She was heavier than most probably thought she should be and lacked proportion and did not fit any sort of standard that was envied in this city or likely anywhere else abroad. And she had scars…so many scars that were a telltale hazard of her time as a battle mage and other shadows of her past.
She was awkward and unkempt and dull and disagreeable and just wanted to hide, to hide, to –
Nadia groaned and pressed her palms over her eyes, rubbing furiously in an attempt to stop both the tears and the rampant and unkind thoughts running through her head. Without thinking, she snatched up the robe that had been discarded onto the floor earlier and clumsily shoved her arms into it before wrapping it tightly around her body and looping the waistband into a quick knot around her middle. It took a few more shaky breaths for her to finally calm herself and get herself back from wherever she had gone.
Enough of that, she thought while reaching down to pick up that stupid yellow dress. The mage felt over its fabric, forcing her mind to wonder why anyone would choose to make something so scratchy instead of the near-overwhelming self-doubt that lingered like a shadow nearby, It can't be helped. Just…focus on what you can do instead of things that can't be fixed.
She turned back towards the vanity to put it away until a time came where she could finally send it back or maybe ask someone to come and get it from her, but the young woman froze when her touch trailed over something that had been shoved into the dress' pocket. Nadia shifted the garment around to reach in and pull out whatever it was and looked down curiously to find Morren's handkerchief in her hand.
It was somewhat ironic to be holding it again, especially after almost finding herself crying in these rooms for the second time in almost three days. Nadia ran her fingers over the edges, noticing for the first time that there were miniature black leaves embroidered into the corners of the grey cloth. She smiled to herself; it was a solid work, and she was curious to know who had done it. She would have to find a way to return it somehow. If the Forsaken had gone so far as to acquire such an item and then personalize it, then surely he would want it…
The mage's train of thought gave way to another almost instantly as an idea formed in her head that would solve at least one of her problems. Maybe, that is.
Tossing the dress onto the bed, Nadia walked briskly over to the window and hastily undid the latches that kept it firmly sealed as to not allow in any freezing Northrend air and wind to seep into the room. Then, in a few deft motions of her lithe fingers she knotted the handkerchief around the handle, tugged at it to make sure that it would stay in place, and then thrust the window open.
Cold air hit her face immediately as a brisk gust rushed through the opening and made some of the nearby candles flicker precariously. Nadia watched for a few moments as the handkerchief fluttered in the breeze, anchored only by the knot around the handle, and when it didn't fly off into the open air after several seconds she supposed that it was secure enough.
The mage cast her gaze further out over the horizon, watching as the white and grey clouds wafted in the sky as tiny forms moved about in the city below that was slowly but surely beginning to wake up. Her plan felt a little foolish now that she remembered how high up she was, but really it was her only option. And if the two rogues had been able to watch and follow her around without anyone being the wiser, then it was completely possible that they would be able to see this little calling card from all the way up here.
A sudden knock on the door had her whipping around just in time to see one of the Mageguard that had been dutifully following her during her wanderings the past few days enter past the threshold.
"Miss Ravenscroft." The sentry greeted, her eyes wandering about the room from under the brim of her helm. Her gaze then fell on Nadia and the open window behind her, "What are…is everything alright?"
"Yes," the apprentice answered quickly, immediately putting an innocent smile on her face, "it was just a little stuffy is all." When the Mageguard didn't respond right away and pulled at the edge of her tabard nervously, Nadia felt herself tense, "Is…is something wrong?"
"I am here because…"
The sentry paused, and the younger mage felt a chill run down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold wind that was still wafting into the room at her back. A few more unbearably silent seconds went by before the Mageguard sighed, and the words she spoke next had Nadia's blood run cold as her entire body shuddered.
"Archmage Proudmoore has requested an audience, Miss Ravenscroft."
I never mean to make these chapters as long as I do, but here we are anyway, lol!
This wasn't my best work, but I feel that it was work that needed to happen to set the stage for a few things anyway. I hope that you were entertained regardless, and I'll do my best to write better in the future now that a lot of introductory work is about to be out of the way.
Now that we're more or less back on track, updates for this story will likely be happening every month (or roughly every 3-4 weeks) so that I can find a good healthy balance of life and writing for my other story too! I meant to update this past weekend, but last week was shark week, which basically means that for the past many days I was in *Intense Discomfort* :'). So apologies for the slight delay, but also not sorry cause…well, yeah.
I don't want to ramble with any unnecessary authors notes, but all I have left to say is thank you for reading, and I look forward to seeing you next time! And be sure to check out the artist of the fantastic work for this chapter as well!
Until next time everyone!
