Note: This is the last chapter I have completed, for now. In the meantime, I'm on tumblr as pooktales if you want to find me and keep up to date on which story I'm updating next, or want to enjoy some of my other writing! I post shorter, sillier things pretty frequently over there LOL
Disclaimer: The characters and settings created by Blizzard Entertainment Inc in this story are owned by their creators. I do not claim them as mine in any way, shape or form. I am not receiving monetary profit from this story and no copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 26: Sylvarthas. Arthanas?
Sylvanas let go of Daphne's poor hands. Then, Sylvanas shut her eyes. Daphne shook out her hand, then gave Sylvanas a small hug, asked if she was alright.
Queen Celestia had been busy gossiping about something, anything really, and fanning herself. But one of her vigilant ladies leaned in, whispered. Celestia looked to Sylvanas then, looking pale and very much unlike a ranger-general of the realm.
By then, the red flag was already raised. It went back down, fast.
The last arcane targets flew out. Anasterian shot twice while they were still purple. One turned into a puff of smoke and you could see his initials, 'A.S.' clearly.
Britecleff raised his pistol, trailed his target, it turned red… then, he shot.
The target fizzled, a sign that the bullet had come close enough, but only grazed it. Britecleff missed.
Daphne kept holding onto Sylvanas, surrounded by other spectators. "It's his nerves," Daphne whispered.
Sylvanas nodded along, "And Arthas… he just gets to people, I'm noticing that. It's strange. And sometimes, when I hold him, he just feels so cold."
Daphne gave Sylvanas a long look, that she had said too much and should not say anymore. Sylvanas froze, looked at the ground.
King Anasterian was announced as the winner shortly after, and the whole party relaxed, went for refreshments.
Britecleff stood on his own for a while. The crowd diffused, went back to drinking and eating between events. Sylvanas came up to Britecleff so fast, she startled him. The valet had handed him a standard-issue Farstrider rifle to use for the final rounds. That was being collected at the moment, so Sylvanas reached in dangerously for Britecleff's personal holster.
"Do I have to take this gun and hold it to your head, to get through to you?" She gripped the silver pistol, that was supposed to be snug at his side.
Britecleff was afraid to move or defend himself. He didn't know Sylvanas could do that.
"What happened to 'I care about you, ranger-general?' But then you go and practically call me a whore in front of the entire kingdom!" she snarled. And she continued swearing at him, upbraiding him.
Britecleff took quick breaths. He remained very still.
Arthas had circled back in. Daphne had got there in time, but Arthas held her back when she wanted to go straight in to Britecleff.
"Oh… your majesty." Daphne managed a nervous curtsey. Arthas' face was a mask of anger and hatred.
"He made a grave misstep." Next, Arthas sipped from a silver cup of beer he had. It smelled like Human beer, which normally smelled so sour. Only Prince Arthas could have forced a Highborne palace servant to go and fetch some for him at a nice event like this, "You should let her scare the wits out of him. If you really are so clever, Lady Daphne."
"I know who you are. A priestess of the Light, am I right?"
Daphne nodded, anxious. Between Sylvanas and Arthas, Britecleff was stunned. Arthas had sussed out his weakness for Daphne very quickly. And Sylvanas was letting him.
"Ho, poor Lady Daphne. If you came up in Lordaeron, darlin', they would have never let you go through with the priesthood, not with your temper. You would have been brought up as a paladin."
Daphne flinched. She looked at Arthas drink his beer. And he was also looking her over. Her body, in the dress. But she didn't feel… wrong. She sensed he couldn't actually help himself. He clearly had a thing for Sylvanas, after all. Another beautiful Elven blonde. And then he was in a whole garden filled with women dressed their very best for men precisely like him. Except that he wasn't one of them. Not really a part of Quel'thalas. There was so much he could not do here, hardly anything he could get away with.
Arthas finished his gulp of beer, "…You did want to know if I had an opinion on Highborne Paladins, didn't you? For your own reasons."
Daphne opened her mouth, shocked. Either Arthas had the mind vision powers of a talented shadowpriest, or…
Or, what? Daphne did not know of any person capable of being a Paladin and more. Agile with shadow magic, comfortable darker powers. She began to feel a chill as she refocused her mind, tried to resist him poring over her thoughts. Daphne recognized the familiar spell working through her, now.
"I think," Arthas leaned in. In fact, he got in her face, "…you'd make a very cute one."
Daphne blinked several times, stepped back. She felt she was going to cry, she didn't know why. Perhaps because Arthas wanted her to. She sensed that as well. Was he normally like this? Was it because he was drinking more now and his ability to resist it had slipped beyond his grasp?
Another strong impression came to her, that Arthas wanted Sylvanas, that he wanted to be close to her like this, now, but he couldn't do so. He couldn't have Sylvanas.
While Britecleff watched, Arthas spoke to Daphne as if he wasn't even there, "Tell your boyfriend that I am aware, in a way, that it was a fair match. He outshot me, as he said. He was a jackass about it, but he did it. However, I don't think I can stomach speaking to him again today." Arthas downed the rest of his drink, walked off a ways, "Or maybe, ever."
Sylvanas backed off from Britecleff when he was sufficiently chastised by Arthas. She released the silver pistol he wore, still in its holster.
At last, Sylvanas said, "…Do we understand one another, Britecleff?"
He swept a hand back over his exotic haircut, "You know, to swear me to silence like this, you're just as bad as he is—"
She hissed at him, "No. I'm worse. You get your head right. You get yourself straight right now or I will use everyting I have in the Farstriders and in the… with the other work we do, to end you. He may be hard to deal with but he is also a very, very good contact to have. If you want to destroy all of that, for your pride, then I don't think you are one of us after all. Are you?"
Britecleff let out a breath.
Sylvanas said this next part more loudly, "I don't want you participating in the rest of this event, Britecleff. As distracted as you are, as good of a shot as you are… and you were standing right next to our king. Why don't you… I'm sure and Lady Weaver would like to enjoy the rest of the day someplace else. You're on official leave for the rest of the day. And night." Sylvanas put hands on her hips, "Or would you like tomorrow morning off as well? I hear Lady Weaver needs a special brand of attention, it could take you a while even if you do manage it with her."
Britecleff looked up at Sylvanas, offended.
She sneered at him, eyes wet, "Now you know how it feels."
Britecleff turned around, to see Arthas toasting him.
Bad as each other.
It wasn't very surprising to read in the papers later on that King Anasterian had won the shooting contest. Arthas came close, but there was, as expected, a technicality, mainly because Arthas was a Human.
The Silvermoon newspapers all actually said that.
Daphne and Britecleff sat on the stairs at the back of the old Starlight Chapel. An old structure that few Highborne used anymore. Priests, like Daphne, did receive their orders there, promotions, attended high ceremonies. But official religion in Quel'thalas, like references to 'Mother Sun' and concepts like the undu'diel, had gone out of fashion long ago.
So then, Britecleff and Daphne were able to sit there, alone together.
Britecleff leaned back on the stairs, on his elbows. Daphne sat alongside and turned to face him, leaning over as decently she could, chin in palm.
He mouthed to her, "I'm so sorry."
Daphne looked up. "Don't apologize to me. You did what you could."
"I pretty much… told the entire kingdom they were knocking boots. Like it matters. That was so horrible of me. Even if Prince Arthas is a royal prick, I shouldn't have done that. And then he nearly threatened you, because of me."
"He didn't…" Daphne sighed. "I don't want to go through this again. Arthas is just a strange man. He's at the very least, a Paladin who dabbles in… shadow magic and probably fel magic, too. Something he might have picked up at university?"
"Death magic."
"What?"
"Well, I dunno. Maybe it's my imagination. But why not mess around with the same stuff that's creating zombies, ravaging his land? There's more than enough of it to play with. I could ask Fennore I guess—Oh, I don't know!"
Daphne watched Britecleff be frustrated, watched him back down from such disturbing theories.
"Anway, I be what he's doing in the field is a lot like what Kael'thas did back in Dalaran, you know, major in 'all the magics.'"
Daphne felt Britecleff's arm, squeezed his bicep.
He kissed her fingers, "You'll be in trouble with your father if I don't walk you home, soon."
Daphne came forward and kissed Britecleff's muscle, through the shirt fabric. It was a warm day and he was technically off duty, so he took off his leather chest piece a long time ago. He was sort of using it as a pillow, something no Farstrider would let him get away with, if they saw him doing that. But Britecleff wanted to pretend that he wasn't a Farstrider right now.
"Daphne…"
"Now you're the one acting like my father."
"I see." Britecleff was solemn. "You know, it's only because I want to marry you so badly. I don't want to disappoint Judge Weaver in any way."
"Then you should just… throw me across the pommel of your Hawkstrider and ride off into the sunset with me."
Britecleff smiled at the image.
"Maybe I'm being serious. Had you ever considered that? I'm tired of waiting too, Bart."
"I know, weddings are so much to plan, and that's only after you get the father's approval."
"No, not for that." She squeezed his arm again.
He looked at the woman he loved, in what now appeared to be a very red dress against the growing darkness.
"Daphne. I thought… it was important to you, to wait."
"It is… It… I don't know. You'll hate me for bringing this up again, but it occurred to me that, right now, he's… Well, Arthas is probably shagging her senseless, but we're sitting here just letting precious time slip through our fingers. Tomorrow is never guaranteed."
Britecleff didn't know what to say.
"I bet today even turned them on." Daphne pouted, "Forbidden love."
"It's not love." Britecleff frowned out at the night.
"I… actually… well, one of them is in love. The other person feels… a great deal of… what did I sense? Ambition. Just, raw need. It's weird when you can feel that about people. It's never not uncomfortable for a priest. Worse than listening in on the ends of people's super weird conversations when you don't mean to. And, today, I definitely did not mean to."
"Come on. The stupidly horny one, the idiot, the overly-ambitious jackass, that's got to be Arthas."
Daphne curled down the side of her mouth, "I honestly couldn't tell."
"Not to be crude, but Human men always go through this phase, the first time they sleep with an Elf woman. Don't look at me like that, they just do. He isn't exactly thinking, if at all, right now. Just… doing. It'll wear off and then it will explode in their faces. And it's going to affect all of us. They're both playing with fire."
"Maybe Sylvanas knows that and she's even using it to her advantage. She is a great strategist."
Britecleff raised his eyebrows, disturbed. Or, impressed, he wasn't sure.
"Um… one more thing, before I guess we have to go. Because you're right, we do." She kissed his cheek, "Arthas said… And I don't want to upset you because I also sensed it wan't a big deal, like at all. He didn't feel afraid of it or angry about it, it was just… a normal thing for him. As if it had already happened or was inevitable, and for your um, your various missions, it may be helpful to know…"
"Daphne, you're scaring me."
"Arthas said that I would make a cute Paladin. You heard him say that, right?"
"He did what! Why was he hitting on you?"
Daphne let her hands drop, "You big dummy! That's not the scandalous part!"
"That Prince Asshat hits on my girlfriend and it's not a big deal? I'll break his neck—"
"Will you stop—my father is a judge and we're still sort of in a public place even if it is mostly abandoned. So that amounts to conspiring to regicide on royal property…"
"Oh, don't go The Weaver on me now, Daphne. You're not the one who's a royal court judge."
"Arthas…" she whispered, "He doesn't have a problem with Highborne Paladins. I had been wondering about it, thinking the question in my mind. And he answered that very question."
Britecleff sat up, made a fist. He squeezed that fist with his other hand.
"Please clear the lust and macho thoughts out of your mind, for a moment, please, Britecleff. It sounds almost sacriligeous of me, somehow, but Arthas could be the answer to our prayers. For, you know, our other work. For Pyorin, and Tempest, and anyone else you, and yes, Sylvanas, may want to recruit. For the cause."
"Does Arthas know about our cause? If he read that far."
"No, he certainly does not. I didn't expect him to have the abilities of a priest and pull mind vision spells, but there are enough people in the palace who are priests that none of us play that game. You know that. I am extremely careful with my thoughts and actions, more careful than your own Farstriders."
Britecleff sighed and covered his face, "You know, they say the wife is always right."
"I'm not your wife yet." She arched a blonde eyebrow, "You should fix that."
Britecleff smiled at her. Then, he reached over and tickled her.
"Daphne! My Daphne. I do love you like a madman."
She pulled him into a kiss. Then they kissed passionately on the stairs. Britecleff lay over her.
"You're not comfortable, are you?" he wondered.
"Not at all." She gave him one last kiss. Then, Britecleff stood and offered her a hand up. He reached for his armor, put it back on while Daphne watched him.
"Do I look okay?"
"You look like you were just with a hooker, with your shirt coming out over your pants like that…"
Britecleff grabbed her butt and kissed her again. "You offering?"
"I didn't like that joke as much."
"…Sorry."
They started walking. Britecleff changed the subject back, "Sylvanas… she did still want to smooth things over with me. She didn't have to give me the day off. She could have left me out in the sun to roast and enjoy being a failure at the shooting competition and to be snarled at by Arthas every five seconds."
"True."
They looked into each other's eyes for a while as they made their way around the corner of the shrine. Then they stopped and hugged. Their very last chance at privacy.
He said, "So, I know overnight is out…"
"Wait, you never asked me."
Britecleff got so excited he barely got the question out, "S-seriously? Do you want to go to an inn with me right now? Or, back to my house? But we might get caught there."
"Thanks. Nice of you to ask. But I can't."
"Oh. Oh, I see what you did there. Daphne, too smart for her own good. You're starting to be a little smartmouth too, like someone else I know." Britecleff pinched the end of her nose, while Daphne grinned at him.
He held her hand and they finished walking around the shrine, to the main street.
Pale blue arcane lanterns lined the quiet Silvermoon streets.
He asked, "How about breakfast tomorrow morning, then?"
"That sounds nice." Daphne put an arm around Britecleff's waist.
"Daphne. I really wouldn't trade what what we have for… what you think they have. Arthas and Sylvanas—Sylvanarthas."
"Arthanas?"
He went, "Windathil?"
"Menarunner!"
Britecleff chuckled, "Men-runner? Okay, I can see that one. A man is getting run down, or getting chased in circles in that relationship, that's for sure. It's even honest."
"Oh, really? I wonder who's winning!"
"Anyway, it's dumb and going to explode, what they have. But this here, this is the real thing, Daphne."
"Maybe it's real for them, too. Even mean people need love. And a mean person and a nice person wouldn't get along very well. I also bet the sex is boring."
Britecleff pulled away from her, "Wait, how do you know?"
Daphne became more serious, "In all honesty… if there is a chance that they really have found love, we should leave them to it. We should try and protect it. Love is a kind of magic. It can heal so much. I'm sure I've heard Sylvanas say things against Humans in her lifetime and…" she lowered her voice, "I'm sure that Arthas has done the same, too. I'm sure he's had choice words for Highborne in his lifetime, probably even after today. Especially after today."
"Now, they're probably calling each other's names."
"Or something like it. There's so much hate in the world. But right now, two people who might turn swords on one another if the conflict between our kingdoms, or the Plague, gets much worse… they are sharing a bed. They are making love. I bet they'll put one another in a better, more forgiving mood, by the end of it. And that is the Light itself, working its miracle in their minds and hearts. Even within their bodies. The desire to be so much more than strangers, or friends… To be one with each other, and one with all of creation, ultimately."
They walked along quietly for a few more city blocks. They began to near Daphne's house. Well, it was a mansion that she and her father lived in, while he was in the city serving in the royal courts as a judge. They had a second estate house out in the country, near Tranquilien. Britecleff didn't like remembering that now. He'd done very well in his position, but she and her super-rich family managed to make him feel broke on a good day.
"Bart, I wish you and I had more allies."
"I love you, Daphne. You are so amazing."
"Can't hate Arthas now, can you? After my little sermon? Heh, I'm getting so much better at those!"
Britecleff laughed, and swinged their hands together.
"Daphne, I love you for that and a lot of other things. Look, come have breakfast at my house tomorrow, even if it might get us in trouble. Though bring your prayer book, just in case your father does ask…"
Daphne started laughing hard.
"And then after, I will lay you down on the couch and…"
"And…?" she teased him.
"We will… have as much… uh… quality time as you would like."
"That sounds nice."
"It does? Good."
"Another bright side—Arthas can't be all that bad if Sylvanas likes him."
"Or she likes him because he's so horrible."
"…Oh."
"Let's not talk about them so much. Rumors going around about it or not, it's a secret, on pain of me being shot out of a cannon across the Great Sea kind of thing, out of the very Farstriders. That's what Sylvanas pretty much said. And I guess I don't mind keeping her secret, either, for the reasons you mentioned too."
"And Prince Kael'thas might just get to marry Jaina. He might." Daphne brightened.
"Or, Arthas will renew his commitment to Jaina after this fling messes him up. Either way, we get political stability. A new peace, or more of the same… well, depending on how badly they break up—can you believe Kael'thas skipped out on the entire shooting party today?!"
Daphne griped, "I know. I want to yell. Gosh, I want to yell! But, it seems we still got something out of it."
"A bad Sylvanas and Arthas break up. Awful thought."
Daphne nodded, "Practical thought."
They went through the gate and stood on Daphne's front porch.
"Good night, Daphne." Britecleff kissed her on the end of the nose. "You know, I will love you forever."
"Arthas' compliment was way better. He said I'd make a cute Paladin."
Britecleff sighed with annoyance. He then let go of her hands, stomped down the steps. Daphne giggled at him again.
On the garden path, he got down on one knee and yelled, "You're the sexiest woman on the face of Azeroth. No, in the Outland, too. Across two realms! Don't you ever, never leave me, Lady Daphne Weaver!"
The lights went on. Daphne tried to shush him.
The front door opened. Judge Weaver leaned out, ceremonial saber in hand, "Alright. Where is he? That rascal you call your boyfriend."
Daphne hugged her father goodnight, went inside the house.
Being a Farstrider, Britecleff had no problem hopping a simple fence and being long gone.
He was, in fact, sprinting down the street. Smiling his head off.