Thursday Random Ficlet: Or, Amber Couldn’t Think of a Blog Topic
“So did you decide to not hate death knights before or after you fell in love with him?”
Lyrandre glanced over her shoulder at her cousin. They were leaning against the upstairs railing, watching the inn’s other patrons below. Said other patrons were mostly friends of the priestess, ranging from a wary hunter to the death knight that was Lyrandre’s…constant companion. That she happened to live with. Lyr cleared her throat and glanced away again. “Before, Mahara.”
“You didn’t deny that you’re in love with him.” Mahara gave her a sideways look.
“No.” Lyrandre let her eyes wander away from her Drake just in time to catch an interesting tableu. A brawny Kaldorei woman reached across the table to try to thwack the human across the table from her, only to have him jerk out of the way last minute.
Mahara frowned. “They don’t seem to like each other. I thought you said these people got along with death knights, and yet that she tried to hit that one.”
“Who, Lyestra? Oh, that’s her husband. I haven’t known her long, but I’m fairly certain that the man has been goading her into vain attempts at physical violence since well before he fell into the Lich King’s control.” Lyrandre chuckled softly. “He can handle himself, don’t worry. Especially with her.”
“Why did you bring me here, with all these people?”
Lyrandre looked at her cousin out of the corner of her eye. Outwardly, she did not look drastically different that she remembered. She had always been the color of sun bleached bone, and it wasn’t easy to see that her eyes now glowed the wrong color, especially not when Mahara insisted on staring at the ground so much. But that it was, Lyrandre decided-the bright, cocksure young Vindicator she remembered was gone. “Because you need support,” she said quietly. “Because you need to know that not everyone is against you. Because I want to help…as do these folk here with us today, in what ways they can. If nothing else you can commiserate with some of your fellows.” She pointed at the three death knights amongst the crowd-her own Drake, Lyestra’s husband Hazard, and a rangy Kaldorei named Jakara. “You need to work your way back into society, Mahara, no matter how they resist it. You cannot become accepted by hiding.”
“But even the other Ebon Blade here…they’re human, or elf. They couldn’t really understand what I, as a draenei, have lost!” She saw Lyrandre’s delicate eyebrows arch, and cut her off gruffly before she could comment. ” I don’t need anyone’s help!”
Lyrandre pushed away from the balcony and headed towards the stairs. “So you tell yourself, cousin. But what name is it you have taken now? To…remind yourself of why you fell?”
“Vainglory,” she spoke softly.
“This is just combat of another sort. Are you really going to fight this battle alone, too?” Lyrandre made her way straight to Drake, leaving a stricken Mahara-Vainglory-behind her. “Oh, love. Sometimes, I hate this,” she said softly.
“What’s the matter, love?” He tilted his head and looked up at her anxiously.
Lyrandre took a deep breath. “Nothing, beloved. My cousin is just difficult, sometimes, that is all.” She gave him a perfect impression of a smile.