OT: So I promised Dueg an RP post…

…aaaages ago.  My muse was being a bitch.  I coaxed some crap out of her anyway, though.

Blood is Blood

The draenei death knight strode through Stormwind with her head down, gaze focused on the cobblestones beneath her hooves.  She gave only the briefest of glances at the street signs and shied away from any inattentive passerby who came too close. 

“That one hasn’t gotten a warm welcome,” Drake observed absently.  He wasn’t very interested in tailoring and its ilk, so when he was dragged to the shop for some bolt of fabric or other, he tended to people watch out the window instead. 

“Not many of you do,” his companion murmured softly, glancing up with a bemused smile.  “Which is why I…”  Lyrandre trailed off, staring at the other woman’s retreating back. 

“What, Lyr?”

Her response was something startled and abrupt in her native tongue.  She took one long stride and pushed open the shop door, and then called desperately across the crowds.  “Mahara!”

The other kept walking.  Lyrandre hiked up her robes in her hands and darted out the door, barely managing to not simply shove people out of the way.  “Mahara!”

Finally the other stopped and turned, slowly.   “I do not go by that n…”  The death knight stared as the priestess halted a mere foot from her, panting slightly.  She wasn’t sure which was more shocking-seeing Lyrandre, or seeing Lyrandre looking out of sorts. 

“Cousin,” Lyrandre said wonderingly.  “I hadn’t the faintest idea what had happened to you! Come-”

“No, Lyrandre.”  Mahara backed up.  “Don’t you see what I am?  You don’t want anything to do with me.  You are still one with the Light as always, that I can see with my own two eyes.  I?  I have fallen into darkness.   Cast down by my own folly.  You are better off walking away from me now.” 

“Like hell I am,” Lyr said, pursing her lips.  She had stolen that phrase from a Kaldorei mercenary she knew.  It worked very well for situations like this.  “You’re my only surviving family.  I am not letting you walk away.” 

By this point Drake had caught up, halting between the two draenei and peering from one to the next.  His Lyr he knew quite well, a slender woman just shy of seven feet tall, her skin the color of charcoal.  Normally she was cloaked in serenity, but her short hair was now in disarray and she stood poised as if to give chase again, if needed.  This Mahara, by contrast, had a fighter’s broad shouldered build and pale, nearly white skin. He thought he recognized her vaguely, but draenei were such a strange people to him still.  And their tongue even stranger.  He silently cursed the fact that he couldn’t understand a word of their conversation.

“You don’t understand, Lyr-”

“Nor shall I ever, I’m sure, but you’re mistaken in assuming that I care.”  She closed the distance between them and gripped Mahara by the arms.  “You’re still the blood of my blood.”

“But you’re a priestess! I-”

“A priestess who believes that there is a place in the Light for everyone, even the death knights!  Is not compassion one of our chief tenants?  Is not forgiveness?  You were a grand paladin in your day, my Mahara.  I know you did not go to one such as Arthas willingly.”

Mahara’s shoulders abruptly sagged.  “I have…I have not been welcome here, King’s command or not.  As a draenei, it seems almost twice as wrong.  How could I have failed so?  No, I know why, but-”

“Ssh, cousin.  Of course you’ve not been well received.  You cannot blame them, truly.  But there are those of us here who are of a different mind.  Let me introduce you to them and perhaps you shall find some peace. ”

Mahara belatedly took in Drake’s presence.  “Who is that?”

“Ah!  So rude of me.”  Lyrandre reached up to tuck her hair back in blame, and dropped back into Common.  “Drake.  This is my cousin, Mahara.  Mahara, this is Drake.” 

Mahara dipped into a shallow bow, noting with raised eyebrows how Drake sidling closer to Lyr, almost possessively.  “Well met, brother,” she said quietly. 

“So this is the cousin she spoke of.  Well met indeed.”

“You spoke of me, Lyr?”

“Of course!  I missed you, and wondered what had become of you.” Lyrandre loosened her grip on Mahara’s arm, leaving one hand lightly resting o her elbow as she guided her to the park.  “Come, let me see if I can find anyone.”

Drake took Lyr’s other arm, but continued to mostly watch Mahara.  The expression on her face was one of disbelief still, and he smiled slightly.  Well he remembered having a similar reaction…


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  1. #1 by Anea on April 13, 2009 - 2:11 pm

    …wow – this is great writing. I had my little RP story that I have yet to post as well, but the quality of mine compared to this is trash.

    I don’t know if you’re into the RP writing thing, but I would love to see more of this. I was immediately drawn in to Lyrandre & Mahara’s story and feel connected (I don’t know if it’s a Draenei thing or not) ;)

    I especially liked details such as Lyr hiking up her dress in a hurry to catch up to Mahara and the note about how “normally she was cloaked in serenity”. Great descriptions.

  2. #2 by Ambrosyne on April 13, 2009 - 2:33 pm

    @Anea: Aww, thanks! I spent days writing this post-I think this was the 3rd or 4th idea I went with. I’m not especially proud of it, but I’m glad you enjoyed it. In case you missed my occasional twitter about it, some of my other stuff can be found at http://whichbridge.wordpress.com/ :D Lyrandre is called Vyree when I post stuff over there, though, because Lyrandre is a re-used name and I didn’t want to cause confusion. XD

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