It would be four weeks before she heard anything from Varian's troop, and they'd been the longest of Val's life. It wasn't the first time that she'd seen him off to battle, but to do it so soon after rekindling their relationship seemed rather unfair.
Her anxiety had slowly crept up on her with each passing day, and by the thirtieth morning without so much as a note from him, she was ready to lose her mind. She'd barely slept, and it was obvious to all and sundry that she was concentrating on hardly anything.
After a near accident involving the smelter, Granthil had put his foot down and told her to go home for a few days. She'd protested, knowing full well that the work they were doing was crucial, but the rest of them had cornered her, and even Lucian had agreed that she needed time off.
So here she was, lying in bed like a lazy teenager when the rest of Stormwind had been up and about for hours. She only just heard her brother's knuckles rap upon her door, and gave him a weak smile as he came in with a steaming mug in one hand, and a plate of toast in the other.
"I'm not sick, Luce," she said, recognising the meal as one that Lokir would always make them when they felt ill. Lucian shrugged, putting both items on her bedside and sitting by her feet.
"If I hadn't brought it, you wouldn't have eaten," he chided, patting her knee.
"Have you gotten anykip?" he asked futilely, and while she felt bad for it, Val had no choice but to shake her head.
"I can't sleep during the day," she told him, and while he knew that it was merely an excuse, he nodded, simply wanting to stop her feeling more embarrassed about it all. He gave her a smile, putting his hands in his lap and shifting over so she could sit up.
"Then how about we get out of the shop and get some fresh air in our lungs?" he suggested, and once again, she shook her head.
"What, and have people ask me constantly if I've heard from Varian? No thanks," she rebutted, taking a mere nibble of the buttered toast.
"Well it's better than stewing in here, isn't it?" he insisted, reaching over and opening her curtains. He used his sleeve to wipe the condensation that the frost outside had caused away, revealing a rare sunny day.
"Oh I don't know, I'm rather enjoying myself," Val said sarcastically, pulling the crusts off as she always did. Lucian fought a sigh, flicking her shin in annoyance.
"Right, that's it, I'm giving you twenty minutes to get your arse up and dressed," Lucian told her, getting to his feet.
"Where are we even going?" Val questioned, licking some butter from her fingertip.
He merely tapped the side of his nose and closed the door behind him, leaving her to decide whether she was actually going to take him up on his offer or not. After a good minute of sitting there over chewing her toast, she sighed, swinging her legs over the side and finally getting to her feet.
It was difficult to shake the grogginess that lack of sleep had blanketed her with, but she pressed on, changing out of yesterday's clothes and finally putting a brush through her hair.
Tired fingers fumbled with the ties of the burgundy corset she'd chosen, and the straps cut into her shoulders where she'd regained the muscle that she'd lost during her hiatus from smithing, but she didn't care.
She slipped her boots on, using the hem of her skirt to clean mud from the toe, and finally opened her door. Considering she had hardly left her bedroom in two days, that was quite the achievement.
Lucian was bent over the counter when she got downstairs, and only looked up when she tapped him lightly on the shoulder.
"Oh well, look at you, getting all dressed up. I hope you're not expecting anywhere fancy," he teased, scratching something in the ledger that he'd been poring over.
"Oh ha bloody ha. One day you lot will get used to seeing me in a skirt," Val replied, taking her shawl from the hook and fastening it with her brooch.
"Yes, and the sky will fall down, and the seas will boil," Lucian continued, very much aware that he was winding her up. He took the purse that was sitting next to the ledger and shoved it into his pocket.
"If you're just going to be an arse all day, I'm going back to bed," Val warned, all but throwing his coat to him. He deftly caught it, slipping it on and snatching his cap from a separate hook.
"Ah, take a bleedin' joke, will you?" he retorted, locking the front door behind him and immediately fishing in his pocket for his cigarette case. They walked in a comfortable silence, only breaking it when they passed people they knew.
It didn't take long for Val to realise where he was taking her; she knew the way to Stormwind Harbour like the back of her hand, and the glittering blue of the sea caught her eye as easily as it caught the sun.
"Luce, you didn't seriously get me out the house to go to the Wobbly Sailor," she moaned, folding her arms against the cold.
The Wobbly Sailor was one of three taverns situated in Stormwind City, and was mostly inhabited by dockers or sailors. Lucian went there some nights with the dockworkers that he'd befriended, but Val could safely say that she'd not stepped foot there.
"Thank you for assuming that I want to spend my day off drinking," Lucian rebutted, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"So what, we just came to admire the view?" Val asked, earning a sigh of exasperation.
"You know what? Yes, yes we fecking did, and you can tell me what you see in that view anytime you damn well want," he snapped, stopping by a low wall and lifting himself onto it. Val leant forward, resting her elbows on the cold stone and squinting.
"Is that…..Luce, is that the Rose?" she questioned in disbelief, and a chuckle confirmed her theory.
"Surprise! Cil left a note in our letterbox this morning- they docked last night, apparently," he explained, but Val wasn't really listening anymore. Instead she was looking out and smiling fondly at the ship that was moored a little further out than the others.
The Black Rose, her father's pride and joy. It looked like any other ship at first glance- but then you would begin to notice the patches, the cracks and weariness that time had brought to it.
The sails were stitched like a haphazard blanket, and bore the sigil of their family; a swallow with a rose in its mouth. Two generations of Glenmores had sailed underneath it, and it was rather saddening to Val that there wouldn't be any more.
But Cillian was a capable captain, and she trusted him with the old girl.
"Looking long in the tooth, ain't she?" Lucian asked, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Val wrinkled her nose, looking back at him.
"Aren't we all though?" she quipped, sharing a laugh with him and making her way down the stairwell.
"So is Cillian waiting for us?" she questioned, leaving her brother behind a few paces in her eagerness to get there.
"I should think so. He said he needed to have a word with us," Lucian replied, dampening Val's mood again.
" 'A word'? That sounds ominous," she muttered, waiting for him by the bottom step.
"I know it does- even more so when it's comin' from him," Lucian agreed. Val snorted.
"Yes, because it doesn't have 'Grammy' written all over it," she said with a grin, taking his arm again.
Cillian was easy enough to spot in the crowd outside the tavern; his dark skin, jet black hair, and slender frame made him stand out from the burly dockers and brutish seamen surrounding him. The guards dotted around the harbour would occasionally glance at him in case something was amiss, and Val couldn't blame them.
He had enough jewels on his fingers -both real, and fake- to make any thief salivate. They glinted in the sunlight as he waved them over, rising from his seat and tightly wrapping his arms around Val.
"How you doin', lass?" he greeted, kissing her cheek and leaving small scratches from the whiskers covering his own. Val stepped back, giving him the largest smile that Lucian had seen from her for weeks.
"I'm absolutely grand, Cil. It's good to see you," she chirped, practically bouncing on her toes as her brother embraced the pirate.
"I'm shocked you were allowed to moor here, mate," Lucian commented, taking a seat and taking one of the three glasses sitting on the table.
Val joined in with their toast and took a sip, not surprised at all by the sweet taste of Thornish rum as it ran down her throat.
"Why d'you think we're so far bloody out? I had to take a fuckin' rowboatto the pier!" Cillian lamented, making Val sputter into her hand.
"Oh I wish I'd seen that," she admitted, wiping the corners of her mouth. Lucian folded his arms, leaning back in his seat.
"For what do we owe this pleasure then, Cil? Grammy got you checkin' up on us already? I told her at New Year that we were grand," he said, drumming his fingers on the table. Cillian crossed one leg over the other, grimacing hard enough to crinkle the moustache that was hugging his upper lip.
"That's just it, mate, she didn't believe a fuckin' word ya said. And we've had word down home about the Orcs, so she's doing her nut," Cillian explained. Val sighed, folding her arms and sliding down into her seat.
"I can't go one bloody day without hearing about those bastards, can I?" she lamented, appreciating Cillian's sympathetic smile.
"Apologies for that, lass, but it's a pretty big topic right now," he said, facing Lucian after hearing him grunt.
"I don't understand why the hells she had to send you here just to tell us that she's worried. She's not thick, she can write a letter," Lucian remarked, highly suspicious all of a sudden. Cillian's frown didn't exactly make him feel any better.
"She's sent me as her errand boy to come and get you two and bring ya to Brinewick- but there's not to be a return trip this time," he told them earnestly, fully expecting the looks of shock and deep fury.
"Is she fecking mad? We can't leave now, we've only just settled ourselves again!" Lucian exclaimed, deciding that now was a good time to down the rest of his drink.
"Besides that, we're grown adults! She can't just snap her fingers and expect us to jump to her every whim!" Val added, finding it difficult not to bite Cillian's head off when really, he was in no way deserving of it. The pirate threw his hands up.
"Don't shoot the bleedin' messenger! I'm just telling ya what she told me, alright? She's given ya two weeks to say yes, and then you're to come back with the crew and I," he explained, angering them both further.
"You should've bloody well known that our answer would be 'no', Cil. I can't leave Stormwind again, not now," Val pressed, pouring herself another glass from the bottle sitting in the middle of the table.
"Aye, we've commitments here, ones we can't break for anything," Lucian concurred. Cillian gave him a hard look.
"Then you'll have to tell Minnie, mate. I told her from the beginning that it's your decision," Cillian assured him, accepting Lucian's offer of a cigarette. "I'd much rather go to Kul Tiras and beat Old Four-fingers to a shipment than ferry you two against your will."
Val 's brows knitted together.
"There's more dangerous shit down in Stranglethorn anyway," she pointed out, hearing a grunt of agreement.
"Between the Trolls, spiders, raptors and fucking gorillas- I'm surprised we lasted as long as we did," Lucian said, snickering to himself.
"Sheer dumb luck, I reckon," Cillian offered, pulling the ashtray over.
"We'll be much safer in a city with thick, tall walls, then we ever will in Brinewick, and the sooner that Grammy realises that, the better," Val concluded, putting her elbows on the table.
"We'll say that a little bit nicer in the letter, though, eh?" Lucian suggested with a grin, and Val couldn't help a chuckle.
"So then, two weeks of making merry lie ahead of us then?" Cillian suggested cheerfully, flicking his ash into the tray.
"I suppose so, since we're never going to change our minds," Val confirmed, swallowing hard.
"Ah, love, it's not that daunting a concept, is it?" Cillian asked, putting a hand over his heart. Val shook her head, wrinkling her nose.
"No, no. I'm just tired, that's all," she said weakly, drawing patterns on the table with her finger.
"Varian's not written," Lucian mouthed to the confused pirate, and a look of clarity washed over Cillian's features.
"Oh, lass, he's probably fine. From what I hear, he's a hard headed son of a bitch. Nothing would dare try and do him in," he said in a haphazard effort at comforting her. What was even stranger was how it sort of worked, despite her annoyance at Lucian bringing the prince up.
"I'm allowed to worry," she mumbled, letting her brother put his arm over her shoulders.
"We're not saying you can't. But sitting around despairing isn't going to do anyone any good," Lucian told her, giving her a squeeze.
"Hear, hear. Listen, come aboard ship and see the others. We'll make you forget he's even gone," Cillian offered, and the corners of Val's mouth begun to twitch.
"I suppose I could…just for a few hours, mind," she said, sliding from Lucian's grip.
"Just think Luce, I'll have the lover of the princeon my ship. I feel like we should start bowing," Cillian teased, narrowly avoiding the kick that Val aimed towards his leg.
"Don't you start. I've had it bad enough from him," she moaned, jabbing a thumb towards her brother.
"Excuse me, Missy, you should be bloody glad that we've taken this whole 'reconciliation' as well as we have. I was ready to hit him with a fuckin plank when we first came back, now I have to accept that my sister's courting him again," Lucian reminded her, rolling his eyes at the kiss she planted on his cheek.
"I know, and trust me, I'm just as hesitant as you are about it all. But on the other side of the coin…I'd forgotten how much he makes me happy," she admitted, and Cillian gave her a warm smile.
"Well then, that's all that matters, ain't it," he said, giving Lucian no room to argue, which judging by his face, he clearly wanted to do. Cillian cemented the end of the conversation by getting to his feet.
"Right then, you wanted to see me on a bloody rowboat- shall we get moving?" he suggested, and Val had to mull it over for all of two seconds before nodding.
"Go on then," she told him, taking his arm and falling into step with both him and Lucian towards the pier.
The cities lamplighters had already finished their rounds by the time Val got home. Cillian had offered her a bunk on the Rose, but after previously experiencing the trauma that was trying to get a peaceful night's sleep with thirteen drunken pirates roaming about, she'd politely refused.
A few, half-melted candles bathed the kitchen in a hushed orange hue, and the small fire crackling on the stove provided enough warmth to make the stew that Val was stirring bubble and steam. That warmth, however, didn't lend itself to the woman holding the spoon, and it'd become necessary for Val to practically cocoon herself in a large, woollen shawl.
"Bloody windows…" she muttered, glancing up at the one sitting above the kitchen counter. She could still hear the low whistle of the wind travelling through the cracks in the frame. The glass within it had become loose as a result, so it was only a matter of time before the whole pane fell out, and they were left at the complete mercy of the elements.
The shop was well and truly falling apart, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Of course, both she and Lucian knew howto fix a good number of the building's problems. But they needed the right materials to do that, and materials needed gold to pay for them. Gold they didn't have, and probably wouldn't see until long after their job at the Keep was done.
Yet, even with all those problems, she couldn't find it in her heart to leave the place again. Cillian's message had given her alot to think about, and the debate of whether to go back to Brinewick or stay in Stormwind had been swimming in her mind like a frantic goldfish all day.
But each time she started swaying towards the other option, she'd snap back to 'stay in Stormwind', and that decision would spark a warmth in her chest that she couldn't name, but she somehow understood.
So for now, her trunks would remain empty, and the shop would run as if nothing was wrong with the world.
Except, there was. A bigsomething was wrong. Everyone she'd spoken to over the past few days had told her that they too had heard nothing from the troop deployed to Brightwood. Not a single letter had been sent, and it was making Val start to worry more than she'd ever care to admit.
"You fucking bastard,"she grumbled, opening a cabinet and getting one of the two clean bowls sitting in there.
Varian had warned her already that contact would be minimal. But she didn't think that to mean that there'd be complete silence his end.
With a sigh, she ladled some stew into her bowl, and padded downstairs so that she could at least try and occupy herself with something both mind numbing, and time consuming. Anything was better than sitting there imagining the potential horrors that the man she loved was facing.
Normally it'd be warmer down here, but after a few days of the forge not being used, it was just as chilled as the upper floor. So she tightened her shawl as she sat at the counter, and absent-mindedly stabbed a potato with the tip of her spoon.
She'd barely inked her quill when she swore she could hear a knocking at the front door. It was a light, quiet sound, so she shook it off and put it down to the wind.
"Who the fuck would be visiting at eleven at night, Val? Light, you need some bloody sleep," she murmured, focusing her attention on the ledger in front of her.
But then came a second round of knocking. It was a little bit firmer this time, and harder to ignore because of it. Val carefully put her quill down, and slid from her stool a millimetre at a time so as not to make alot of noise.
Light damn it, I should've stayed aboard ship.
The thought was as useless as the lock that she'd closed on the door earlier on tonight- if someone wanted to get in that badly, it would probably only take a few good shoves. But then, if someone weretrying to break in, why the hells would they be knocking?
Unless…
"Oh you son of a-" Val didn't even bother whispering her insult as she half-ran to the door and nearly pulled it off its hinges in her haste to open it.
"About damn time, woman. It's bloody freezing out here."
Varian Wrynn stood bold as brass upon her front step, looking as if he'd started a fight with a rhinoceros and lost by a country mile.
Val had almost forgotten the promise he'd made before his departure; he agreed that as soon as he returned, no matter what time of day, he'd come to the shop and let her know that he was alright. It'd been a promise born from Val's desperate need for reassurance from the prince, who gave her a cocky smile as she simply stood there dumbfounded.
"I told you, love- my word is my bond," Varian said, and Val felt her throat begin to run dry.
"I thought you were a burglar," she replied, realising how stupid a theory it was now she'd said it.
"A burglar who knocks?" Varian teased, and that's when the bewilderment that his appearance had brought with it disappeared completely, and was replaced by mild annoyance.
"Well just how the fuck was I supposed to guess it was you, when I hadn't heard a single fucking word from you for weeks, you selfish git!" she seethed, only just resisting the urge to smack him, purely because it looked as if someone else had gotten there first.
"I was in the midst of battle, Val! I've not had time to shit, let alone write!" Varian retorted, hunching his broad shoulders. "Now are you going to let me in or what?"
"No- I'm bloody not," Val answered, and the two of them stood there glaring at each other for all of a second before their faces cracked into grins.
"…Course I am, you infuriating bastard. Come on- I've just made dinner," Val told him, and stepped aside so that he could follow her instruction and get himself out of the small showering of snow that had started up.
"Light blind me, i think it's colder in herethan it is outside," commented Varian as he looked about the place.
"Is Lucian asleep?" he asked, and Val shook her head.
"He's not even home, so don't feel like you need to be quiet," Val told him, and apparently, that was the last thing he wanted to hear.
"So you're here alone?" Varian asked, with a low, barely disguised growl to his voice.
"There's no magical third person that lives here, so aye, I am," Val said, trying to keep her tone rather blasé so that she didn't add fuel to the fire that was Varian's temper.
"You can't honestly expect me to be happy about that fact," Varian muttered, making a point to draw the bolt andlower the latch on the door.
"I wasn't happy about the fact that your troop essentially went missing for a month, so I guess we're even on that front," Val shot back.
"Was that made official, or was it merely hearsay?" Varian asked, taking his cloak off and wincing as he hung it up.
"Well, I didn't hear it from your father's mouth, if that's what you mean," Val admitted, and Varian lifted her chin and gave her a warm, soft smile that made every fear she'd had during his absence melt away completely.
"I'm sorry I worried you, Sweetheart," Varian said, and Val held his hand as it made its way to her cheek.
"I supposeI can forgive you this once…" she joked, and her grin widened as she leant up for the kiss that he bent for.
It was a lovely feeling, being able to simply let him gather her into his arms and show her such affection.
His lips felt dry against hers, and her fingertips raked over small, scabbed over cuts that were hidden by the whiskers covering his cheeks. He was in a bad way, and she was almost certain that he knew that, but right now, neither of them felt the desire to do anything about it. He was home, and and that was all that mattered.
Varian eventually lowered her back to the floor, but even then, his arms held on, as if she would disappear should he let go of her. To Val, his actions were rather an example of de-ja vu; the last time he'd come home from battle had been over five years ago, when Stormwind was still at odds with the Gurubashi Trolls of Stranglethorn Vale. It'd been Varian's first major deployment, and to say that it had deeply affected him would be the understatement of the millennia.
She could see even now that was still the case; his hands were trembling against her skin, and his royal blue eyes held a haunted, almost traumatised fog to them, just as they had back then. Later on, Val would make the same suggestion as she had the first time- for him to speak to someone trained in helping soldiers that had seen such horrors. But she was already anticipating how he was going to refuse.
So getting him back to form was going to be a long, arduous process that in a strange way, Val was more than willing to carry out.
"Are you hungry?" she asked, and Varian gave her a small smile as he realised what she was doing.
"What's your name, Bessie?" he teased, and Val only just stopped herself from tweaking his nose, which already had a dark purple splotch covering the bridge.
"I can still chuck you out on your arse, you know," Val threatened, and if anything, Varian's smile widened.
"I know. But you won't," Varian challenged.
Val tried to muster a witty response, but every single one died on the end of her tongue, because he was absolutely right. She wanted him where she could see him after being apart for so long, and Varian knew that, hence his unwavering confidence.
"Shut up, icebrain," she said lamely, and Varian's rumbling chuckle echoed around the empty shop as he leant in once again. There was something different about this kiss; it was completely unrestrained, and Val could feel the full weight of Varian's body behind it.
Her palms moved along his forearms until they could wedge themselves into the crooks of his elbows, and his own fingers pressed into her back as he tried to hold her as close as was humanly possible.
Their foreheads touched as they separated for air, and Varian's breathing sounded more jagged than it already had been.
"I've been wanting to do that since the minute I left," he confessed, closing his tired eyes and simply enjoying that she was within arms reach again.
"Well…I'm not exactly stopping you from doing it again, you know…"
That was all the encouragement Varian needed, and soon enough, Val found her backside hitting the counter-top as the prince lifted her onto it. Val felt goose-pimples spring up over every inch of her body as Varian's mouth bypassed hers completely, and instead planted itself at the curve of her jaw. Her fists clenched, and she leant back with a satisfied sigh.
It'd been so long since the two of them had done anything like this, that Val was sure that she'd tumble over the edge faster than she could stop herself. She could already feel that familiar ache between her legs, and it only became stronger with every nip Varian gave her. He too, was apparently eager to move on from simple kisses; Val felt the sharp cold of his palm press against her hip and slide itself underneath her shirt until his thumb and forefinger perfectly aligned themselves with the swell of her breast.
"Varian…" Val gasped, grinding her hips against the air in a vain attempt to alleviate the sudden, urgent need she had for him. With great reluctance, Varian didn't nurture that need- in fact, he straightened, and disengaged himself completely, much to Val's chagrin.
"What's wrong?" Val asked, and Varian gave her a warm, but confusing smile.
"Nothing, Sweetheart," he said reassuringly, and he cleared his throat to disguise how he too was shifting his hips in order to subtly adjust himself. "I just don't want the cannon to fire too early, if you get my drift."
Of course Val got it, and she leant over to give him a soothing kiss on his cheek. "Then how about we have something to eat, get you cleaned up, then see how we feel?" she suggested, and the sultry tone to her voice sent shivers down Varian's spine.
"That sounds perfect," Varian conceded, and after helping her down, he waited for Val to gather her bowl and cup before following her upstairs.
"So where exactly isLucian then?" he asked, using every fibre of strength that he had left not to watch her backside as they ascended the stairwell.
"Onboard the Rose, with the rest of the crew," Val answered, putting her dinner down on the table and setting to work at making his.
"The Black Rose is in Stormwind?" Varian asked, and Val didn't even need to look to know that his top lip was curled.
Val filled his bowl with stew once she made sure it was still warm.
"It is," she confirmed, trying not to smirk as she put it in front of him.
"You don't sound too happy about that," she remarked, and Varian's distaste was as clear as the nose on his face.
"Oh, no, I'm absolutely thrilled," he dead-panned, but in spite of his annoyance, he thanked her for passing over the salt and pepper pots.
"Dare I ask why it's here?" Varian inquired, not really wanting to know the answer. Val's nose wrinkled, not filling him with confidence.
"It's…complicated," Val said, and Varian's eyebrow cocked.
"What the hells is that supposed to mean?" he asked, putting his spoon down and folding his arms. Val sat in the chair opposite him, and distractedly scrubbed at a ring that had been left from a mug earlier on that day.
"Well, Cillian asked to meet Lucian and I this morning. We thought it was just a social visit - a quick stop, you know?" she badly explained, grimacing at him. "Really, he'd just come to tell us that Grammy wants us back in Brinewick, and apparently she's not taking 'no' for an answer."
That woke Varian up. He sat straighter, reaching down and pulling his chair awkwardly around the table until it was next to hers.
"Define 'back'. As in…permanently?" Varian asked, despite his reluctance to do so. Val nodded, and his stomach dropped straight into his boots. "And you said…?"
"Of course we said 'no'," Val insisted, putting her hand on his thigh and not noticing how it tensed underneath her touch.
"You didn't say that because of us, did you? Cause if you want to go, Sweetheart, I won't stop you," Varian told her, returning the kiss she leant over for.
"I said it because it's how I felt, Varian. I'm not running to Brinewick when I'm much more useful here," she told him, running her hand up and down his leg.
"You'd probably rethink that sentiment when you hear how the mission went," Varian grumbled, taking his spoon in hand again. Now he'd seen and smelt real food, he'd realised how ravenous he actually felt.
"I kind of assumed it went badly from the state of you," Val told him, finding it hard to put up with looking at the dirty, sodden bandage that was wrapped around his right wrist anymore. In the end, she left the table, and clambered onto the adjacent counter-top so that she could grab the battered tin containing the Glenmore's medical supplies.
" 'Badly' is a damn understatement," Varian huffed. He begrudgingly lifted his arm so that she could unwrap it, and Val's brow creased as she concentrated on both that, and what he was saying.
"Did you get everyone out?" she asked, not liking his blank look.
"Not everyone," he said quietly, wincing as she slowly peeled the linen away from his skin.
"Do you want to stop talking about it?" she suggested, and his answer was a small, thankful smile.
They instead sat in a comfortable silence, which ended up being broken by the small gasp that escaped from Val's mouth once she exposed his arm. There was a deep cut still oozing blood sitting diagonally on his forearm, with crude stitches of thick, black thread being the only things holding the flesh together.
"Varian, you need to get this tended to properly, for Light sake," she chided, taking a cotton ball and squishing it in one hand.
"Why, when there's no need? It's not hanging off, Val, it can wait until tomorrow," he retorted, making her sigh in annoyance.
"How the hells did it even happen?" she questioned, dabbing at the crimson bubbles that were forming around the stitches and ignoring his hisses.
"It turns out that Orcish axes can cut through steel, and putting an arm up to protect your face is a terrible idea," Varian told her with a snort, but from her face, she wasn't impressed.
"I'm more than sure that's what you have a bloody swordfor, Varian," she scolded, ignoring his muttered curse when she doused another ball with the contents of a tiny vial sitting in the tin and pressed it on the wound.
It started to lose the angry redness that surrounded it, which meant the potion was working.
"This wasn't exactly the night I was envisioning for us," Varian admitted, watching as she carried on cleaning him up. Her eyebrow cocked in half amusement, and half confusion.
"Just what wereyou envisioning, then?" she asked, making him chuckle.
"Oh, I don't know- the gallant hero returns to his lady, she falls into his arms and he runs up to the bedroom with her and locks the door," he jested, glad that she found his terrible joke funny.
"The gallant hero that got his arse handed to him, you mean?" she teased, finding his glare quite amusing.
"I gave as good as I got, thank you," he retorted, sucking in a breath while she pulled dry grass from underneath one of his stitches.
"Promise me that if things get too bad, that you'll take Minnie's offer," he said rather out of the blue, catching her by surprise. She put down the bandage that she was unrolling, furrowing her brow.
"Is that your not so subtle way of telling me that it isgoing to get too bad?" she asked gravely, and his look didn't fill her with confidence.
"Just promise me, alright?" he pressed, keeping his voice as flat as possible. She picked the bandage up again, gently wrapping it around his arm.
"I promise," she said, giving him a wobbly smile. "But until then, I'm staying right here." Varian managed to return her smile.
"I'm glad to hear it," he told her with genuine sincerity. Val finished strapping him up, and the two of them finished what morsel was left of their dinner. It was only when they were on the last dregs that Val reached over and lifted a lock of hair that had fallen loose from the low braid one of Varian's camp-mates had fashioned for him.
"Do you have the energy for a proper bath, or do you just want to top-and-tail?" she asked, and wasn't at all surprised when a grimace began to twist Varian's battered features.
"I don't wish to put you out any more than I already have, Sweetheart. A basin and sponge will suit me just fine," Varian replied. Of course, Val acted as if she hadn't heard the first half of his answer, and swiftly left the table so that she could gather what he needed.
"Please don't be frozen…" Val muttered as she pushed down the handle of the kitchen's water pump, and to her utter dismay, nothing whatsoever came out of the spout.
"Fuck. Varian," she summoned, and without even needing an explanation, Varian rose, and smashed a curled fist against the side of the tap until they both heard something shift.
"Try it now," he instructed, and they both held their breath as Val pushed down once again. Thankfully, a small but steady stream of water started to flow, and Varian received a rather enthusiastic kiss upon his cheek.
"Thank you," Val said, grabbing the basin with both hands. Varian bent down, however, and stopped her from filling it with his inspection on the pipe leading to the shop's exterior.
"I'm shocked that you haven't gotten this damn thing fixed yet," he muttered, finding that the source of the problem wasn't just the ice, as she'd first presumed. Instead, it was a pinhole leak that'd been sloppily covered with clay that was clearly old and had started to crumble.
"When the money fairy decides to pay me a visit, then maybe I will," Val retorted as she held the basin in place.
"He's right bloody here, woman," Varian muttered, but thankfully, she didn't hear him. He used the counter to push himself back onto his feet, and used the tea-towel hanging by the pump to dry his hands.
"I would've offered you some of Lucian's clothes to change into...but something tells me that they won't fit you in a million years," Val said, glancing over at Varian and utterly failing to conceal a smirk.
"I've no problem with walking home in dirty clothes. If anything, it'll help me blend in better," Varian pointed out.
"Maybe next time, you can bring a bag to leave behind. It'll save alot of trouble," Val suggested, and Varian's delight at the idea was rather obvious. She was sure that if his legs were in full working order, he would've jumped up and down.
"Aye, maybe I can," he said wistfully, and leant down to peck her cheek, which had turned a light, dusty pink.
"Fancy a drink?" Val squeaked, feeling her face grow hotter.
"Depends what's on offer," Varian said, tugging his tunic over his head and balling it in one hand.
"There's hot, cold…or strong. Take your pick," Val choked, finding her throat had run rather dry.
She hadn't meant to stare, but with every movement Varian made, a new muscle would ripple, and it had the same effect as waving a rattle in front of a toddler.
"Strong would be nice- providing that you promise not to tell Bessie. The last thing I need to contend with is one of her hour long lectures."
Varian's stark response snapped Val from her trance, and she blinked a few times in order to process what he'd actually said. Once it'd registered, a scoff left her tight throat.
"I think tonight she'd be saying the same as me- you've bloody well earnt this one," Val said, opening the cabinet above her head and taking two glasses from it.
She could still feel her heart beating hard within her chest, and her palms grew clammy as she fought to uncork the bottle of gin that she and Lucian had been saving for her birthday.
"There's cigarettes as well, if you want one. Cillian bought us a crate over," she offered, and Varian gave her a look of disapproval.
"You mean he stolea crate," he muttered, and Val flashed him an innocent smile as she put his drink on the table.
"It fell off a boat. What was he supposed to do, just leave it there?" she teased, and all Varian could do was roll his eyes and carry on wiping himself down with his tunic.
Val noticed this, and quickly nominated herself to fetch him a sponge and towel. The privacy of the washroom gave her the precious few seconds she needed to gather herself, and she found it easier to look at the half-bare prince as she came back with the goods.
She found him hissing through gritted teeth as he tried to lift his arm high enough to reach his shoulder, and immediately, her arousal ebbed to make way for concern.
"Here, let me do it," she said, and although her tone was gentle, Varian could tell that it was a command, not a request.
...But that didn't mean that he was going to simply roll over and obey her.
"You're not my wetnurse, Val," he grumbled, taking a second attempt at scrubbing the muck covering his collarbone.
He could feel his arm beginning to burn in protest, and by the time he'd reached the top of his pectoral, the pain was so great that there were the tiniest pinpricks of tears in the corners of his eyes.
That was the moment when the sponge was harshly snatched from him, and the chair he was standing beside pulled out to fit his large frame.
"Sit down and shut it, you stubborn oaf," Val demanded, and against every prideful instinct Varian had, he followed her order and planted his backside on the cold wood.
"Don't you dare tell anyone about this," Varian hissed, and Val couldn't help but laugh as she soaped the sponge up again.
"About what? That you have a woman who doesn't think twice about essentially giving you a bed bath? I should think most would be jealous if they knew," Val retorted, but Varian wasn't at all amused by her admittedly weak attempt at humour.
"I didn't come here for you to wait on me hand and foot, Val. I came to spend some time with you," Varian argued, and Val kissed the top of his head with a small smile on her face.
"And that's exactly what you're doing. Just in a different way than most would expect," Val pointed out, and finally, Varian sighed in defeat.
"We never have done things normally, have we?" he conceded, and Val answered with a playful poke to the tip of his nose.
"No, we haven't. But there's not really much fun in being normal. I much prefer the way we do things," Val said, and if anything, Varian's grimace deepened.
"I feel like you're just saying that to placate me sometimes," he admitted, and for his honesty, he earnt a wet, cold slap from the sponge upon his shoulder.
"Well I'm not, so stop your moping, mister," Val scolded, and although his lingering uncertainty had blemished Varian's mood, he found himself smirking.
"Yes, mother," Varian quipped. He'd been fully expecting retaliation from her, but he couldn't decided whether it would be another slap, or a tweak to his nose. She surprised him by doing neither, but instead pulling on his hair just hard enough to be uncomfortable.
"I don't know why the hells I put up with your shit sometimes," Val muttered.
"Because you love me?" Varian suggested, using her usual response to the same gripe and making her begrudgingly laugh.
"Aye, I do, and Light help me for it."
It took four basins of water and two sponges to get Varian clean. By the time they'd finished, the man himself was half-asleep in the chair he was still sitting in, and to be honest, Val wasn't far behind him. She patted his shoulder after tying his dampened hair up, and he started as if she'd prodded him with a hot poker.
"Eh…wha'? Whaz happenin'?" Varian slurred, and Val bent to kiss his now clean-shaven cheek.
"You're all done, love," she told him, and took the towel from around his shoulders so she could dump it into the hamper. Varian dug his thumb and forefinger into the corners of his eyes to wake himself up, and gave her a small, grateful smile.
"Thank you, Sweetheart," he said groggily.
"I think we should get you to bed, Varian. You look half-dead," Val suggested, and for once, Varian didn't argue with her. Instead, he shoved his chair back, and hitched up the towel that he'd wrapped around his waist as he started towards Lucian's room.
"Erm, Varian. Mine's that one," Val said, pointing to her own bedroom and figuring he was just too sleepy to remember.
"I know it is. But not only is it bloody freezing tonight, I remember how much of a blanket hog you are. So I'm preparing myself accordingly," Varian told her from inside the room. Eventually he came out with two of Lucian's pillows, and the bearskin blanket that they'd bought at the Auction House years before.
"I'm not that bad," Val muttered, taking one of the candlesticks from the table and following him into her own bedroom.
He was already re-arranging the small, single occupant bed that Val called hers when she closed the door behind her.
"I never thought that we'd be here again," she mused, and Varian abandoned his task to look over at her.
"Neither did I," Varian admitted, taking her hand when she held it out for him. "I have to wonder if I'm just being teased by a wonderful dream sometimes. One some bastard will wake me from soon enough."
"Soppy git," Val rebutted, but Varian merely chuckled.
"I don't care. It's the truth. Now come here, you," Varian said, gently pulling her to him and enveloping her in a tight, affectionate embrace.
"Shall we to bed, love?" Varian whispered, and a sharp shiver ran down Val's spine.
"Please," she all but whimpered.
It'd been a verylong while since she'd felt so at peace. Right now, she knew exactly what she wanted, and that hadn't been the case since she'd left Stormwind all those years ago. Varian noticed this, and made sure that his fingers were still entwined with hers, even as he stepped back from her and sat on the edge of the bed.
"What are you thinking?" he asked, watching her face and finding it to be frustratingly unreadable.
"Alot of things," Val murmured.
"Good things?" Varian prodded, and Val mustered a smile.
"Very good things," she affirmed. Varian slid himself backwards until he could pivot himself and lay flat against the wall. He gave the mattress next to him a firm pat, and Val happily took his invitation to join him.
"To think- I had absolutely no intentions of even speaking to you when I came back to Stormwind," Val mused. Varian didn't seem offended by the admittedly fair observation. If anything, he looked rather amused.
"I would've completely understood if you'd honoured that oath," he said, leaning over and moving some of her hair out of her face. "But I'm bloody glad that you didn't."
His lips were still chilled from his wash as he leant down and kissed her, but Val didn't mind one little bit. Her arms wrapped themselves so snugly around his neck that Varian couldn't have pulled back if he tried. Instead, he held her hips, and gently manoeuvred her until she was lying dead centre on the bed.
"You're barely patched up, Varian…" said Val in what would probably be the first of many chides she'd give him tonight.
"I'm not going to fall apart, Val. Stop your fussing," Varian mumbled into her shoulder, which he was peppering with strong, breathtaking kisses that were already starting to make Val's head go light.
She wrapped the leg he was holding around his waist, and without a seconds hesitation, He cupped the curve of her buttock in his palm and squeezed just hard enough to make a soft moan emit itself from Val's parted lips.
The sound made Varian's groin pulse with frustration, but he ignored it for the time being. He instead dipped his head down and clamped his mouth over Val's peaked nipple.
"Fuck," Val groaned, and her knuckles grew red from how hard she was gripping the pillow behind her. Her hips started to move in time with Varian's suckles, and each time they rose, they brushed his already hard cock.
It got to a point where he had no choice but to unlatch himself and open her legs so that he could make himself more comfortable between them.
"Varian," Val choked, and the prince took that as his cue to reach down, and guide his swollen, arousal-slick head into the warm folds of Val's sex.
A raw, almost primalnoise left his throat, and it took every shred of discipline left in his lust-addled mind to stop himself from releasing there and then. Val however, had lost all ability to even manage a squeak. Varian had barely entered her, but already, she was seeing stars, and felt so immensely full that she was skeptical about whether he'd actually be able to completely sheath himself without splitting her in half.
"Sweet hells, woman, you've never been thistight…" Varian muttered, and Val barked a husky, dreamy laugh.
"It's been three years, Varian. Just be grateful there's not cobwebs in there," Val said, and Varian's brows snapped down in realisation.
"Wait….there's been no one else?" he asked dumbly, and although she had every right to become offended at the question, Val simply shook her head with a coy smile.
"You expected there to be?"
Varian shifted his shoulders out of mild embarrassment.
"Not 'expected' per se. But I wouldn't have been hurt if you'd said that there had been," he said, and Val could greatly appreciate his honesty.
"I had absolutely no interest in having another man, Varian," Val clarified, and thankfully, that was all Varian needed to carry on. Val held on to him as he gently pushed the rest of himself in until he was snugly within her, and after the last few dregs of discomfort had faded, Varian could feel her begin to relax around him.
"Light that feels so good," Val purred, and Varian leant down to nibble on her earlobe.
"Tell me, Sweetheart- how long have you wanted me inside you?" he whispered. Val shivered underneath him, and started panting like a bitch in heat as his hips began to move.
"Ever since…fuck…Ever since I came back," she admitted.
Her head was beginning to go light; because of his impressive girth, every stroke of his cock caressed Val's walls, and ignited the nerves that ran through them like a match to a powder-keg.
"Maybe I should've just taken you at New Year," Varian growled, using the vast catalogue of actions that aroused Val to its full potential. He surprised even himself with how well he remembered them, and the brutish whispers he dripped into her ear seemed to still work, which was quite the relief.
Val answered with a sharp, choked moan. Her legs began to lift and wrap themselves around Varian's waist, giving him the perfect angle to drive himself into her just that tiny bit more.
His heavy grunts tickled the skin of Val's shoulder, and under any normal circumstance, it would've been quite the unpleasant sensation. But tonight, it cemented how he was finally hers again, and that she still held the ability to bring him to such a state in the first place.
The bedsprings creaked in protest to how their bodies were moving together in near-perfect synchronisation. Val was wary of her growing climax, for she had no doubt that it would bring Varian to his own soon after. He was as tense as a statue, telling her that he was holding everything in just so that he could continue to drink in the pleasures that making love to her brought, and concentration induced sweat was beginning to bead on his furrowed brow.
It was selfish, but she didn't want to grant him the permission he so sorely needed-not yet anyway. She wanted to stay like this for as long as was humanly possible.
But eventually, she couldn't hold back any longer, and with a loud, satisfied cry, she involuntarily clenched around Varian's cock and arched her back until their bellies were firmly pressed against each other.
With a determined growl, Varian carried on and rode every wave of her climax until Val's legs went limp, and slid from his waist like a wet shirt falling off a clothes line. Her vision was blurry, her head was light, and her heart was beating like a drum against her ribs…and she loved it.
"Needed that, didn't you Sweetheart?" Varian teased, and deliberately slowed his pace now she'd come, just to give her the precious few seconds she needed to get her breath back.
"More….need more," she sighed, and Varian dipped his head down to give her another ferocious kiss. One that tasted of sweet gin, and left a pleasant tingle to Val's lips.
"I didn't bring a sheath," Varian warned, but for once in her life, Val didn't care about the repercussions of their recklessness. It was all she'd done since her return to Stormwind, so she was sure that nobody had any right or want to judge her for the shrug she gave the prince.
"Just for once- fuck it," Val said, and apparently, Varian shared her sentiments.
She held onto him as he lurched backwards, and the mattress sagged even more with their combined weight as Varian held her aloft. He grabbed her thighs and roughly manoeuvred her legs to they were wrapped around him once again. With both of his firm, strong hands steadying her, Val lowered herself until all he could feel her thighs pressing against his.
"I love you," Varian murmured, with his royal blue eyes boring into her honey coloured ones.
"My Varian…" Val sighed, and with a small, shared smile, the two of them consummated a rekindled love that drove away the cold winter night.