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@alythea-grey-blog
"Coming home wearing The Aegis' crest felt great. I may have never been the most obvious choice for Marshal - in fact, no one believed I could do it, I guess they still don't - but I feel as if I am finally doing the right thing. Regardless of opinions though, The Aegis wholeheartedly has my devotion, and I intend good things to come of it. For both myself and my King; for the people and for the Light, I am determined to be successful."
"Stormwind is an ugly city full of ugly attitudes, but every now and then I'll just be treading the cobbles and a sense of pride will strike me. Admittedly, it's usually when the streets are quiet - at dawn or at twilight. When I find myself in an empty walkway, the canals dark beside me and the clamour tuned to a hum, I appreciate my capital as what it should be: My home."
Alythea and Garrot I
Garrot couldn’t help but grin at her pent up angst for The Stormguard, she didn’t really fit in amongst them and he still wasn’t one hundred percent sure as to why she even bothered to sign up. It seemed illogical and stupid to him, but whatever floated her boat he figured. “The first time you’ve been off duty? Fuckin’ nether, Grey.” He frowned as he set his eyes amongst a crowd on the other side of the canal, not really paying much focus to the events going on inside the group, but more to the fact that they were there. He set his gaze back to Alythea once more before speaking out to the girl. “You know, it is kind of their job to keep you busy. It’s what you signed up for.” He couldn’t help but tease the girl, he figured she’d known what she’d got herself into, but clearly that wasn’t the case. Truth be told he was quite surprised she actually made it into The Stormguard, she wasn’t exactly the most disciplined of the bunch, but she had experience with a blade and she could ride, if that’s all it took to be part of Stormwind’s finest, it said a lot about the city.
A hand rested on the hilt of his blade absently as she spoke, the other finding it’s fingers entangled with Alythea’s, watching over the girl with a smile as he spoke out once more. “Should hope you’re not complainin’, I can’t put off the North forever, and there’s only so much bullshit I can feed Nobles.” It was quite the situation he was in, on one hand he owed his entire career and life to the Renwicks, on the other he was probably about to lose his own in the battle for Alterac. He loved Alythea and he didn’t want to lose her, especially not when it could be prevented, but he didn’t want to abandoned House Renwick in their time of need. “You know I’ll have to go back eventually, right?” He looked to her with a brow raised, no matter how much he put it off it was still calling him, he was the Master-at-Arms and he had a duty to Lord Renwick.
He rolled his eyes at her next comment, she knew that he hated the Nobles as much as she did, but he had to put on a cheery polite and correct attitude for them, it was his job after all. He had to appease and make everything fine down south so the supplies could be sent north. “They enjoy your company ever so much, Aly. They only hate you because you have a vocabulary worse than a sailor and an attitude to match it.” He grinned teasingly, playing with his blade’s hilt as he considered when he should finally move up north. “Next week, Aly. I’ll be going next week.” He nodded contently, he was going to stick to this date, this time. Honest, like he did the past two dates. He had to face his duty sooner or later, and he knew Lord Renwick needed him.
Alythea held Garrot's gaze unsteadily as he spoke of the North, squeezing his hand delicately and nodding once. “'course I do. Renwick's where y'belong, I get that.” Her words came with a loose enthusiasm that spoke of strict understanding, but nothing more. There was no empathy for his duty, no pride held for his intentions; it was selfish and she knew it, but she couldn't help wanting to keep him wrapped up in her bed covers, rather than his platemail. She knew she should have more faith, but the truth was black and white: Alythea was terrified of losing her love to bloodshed. She took her gaze from Garrot swiftly, forcing back the thoughts of his absence as she paid special attention to the sun's reflection below them. A frown found her lips as she peered on, nothing more than a discreet smudge of concern across her features, but it was a shade of blue that did not suit her, regardless.
As Garrot's retaliation came in its chirpy tone, Alythea lifted her head again with a snort of laughter. Her brows lifted testingly, giving Garrot a playful nudge and a slick smirk. “Fuck you, I don't swear that much,” she trailed off knowingly, smile broadening to flash her company a wolfish grin. “They're jus' jealous that 'am such a free spirit, s'all,” she nodded singularly in determination, tugging Garrot closer towards her – just in time for his last comment to come. She sucked back a hard breath, the rush of air bringing a on a brisk cough, almost choking on the notion; all in attempt to control the disappointment, the fear, that suddenly came over her. Next week was so soon, it wasn't enough time. An eternity wouldn't have been enough time. Swallowing her panic, Alythea nodded again; a slow nod.
“Next week?” Her tone came in a drag, propping herself up on her toes to push her nose against Garrot's. “Well, we have to make th'most o' this week then, eh?” A smile found the tall girl's ponderous eyes as they met her company's own, dark gaze, lifting her free hand to tug at the stubborn hair that hung about his leathery features. “Standin' around Stormwind's streets is not a good start, though... hrm,” Alythea glanced about herself cluelessly for a moment, her movements alight with an over-animated energy that betrayed how disheartened she truly was. The smile and sudden excitement were painfully terrible methods of disguise, and despite her best intentions, Alythea was upset by the news and it was obvious. “Let's do something.”
Alythea and Garrot I
Garrot had spent the past half hour wandering around the streets of Stormwind, peasants littered the streets, always in groups causing trouble, getting in the way and generally pissing people off. If there was one thing Garrot had learned by spending so much time with Alythea in the city, it was that it was best to just wait it out and she’d find her way to him, she always managed to after all. He took stance looking over the canals, waiting silently for his other half to show up. Grey wasn’t your run of the mill city girl, no. She wasn’t some Nobleman’s daughter who thought she could get what she wanted by showing a little cleavage and whining about her father, she was quite the opposite.
He’d not noticed her take her place beside him for a good while, he was too busy glancing out over the wasting city and muttering to himself under his breath about how it was such a waste to even take hint that she was beside him, arms crossed he looked down to his right, noticing the figure down to his side. “Evening, Grey.” He spoke out firmly, eyes fixed on the girl. “Been keeping yourself busy with the Stormdogs?” He gave her a playful grin and a nudge. He’d never been one to be open with people, but Alythea was something special, he’d found solace in her company, at least she was better company than any of the denizens in this city.
Shifting in his armour idly he mumbled under his breath, it wasn’t the most comfortable stuff to be lounging around in but he preferred to be protected in Stormwind, it wasn’t exactly the safest place around, after all. He turned to face the small girl beside him and leaned down, gently pressing his lips against hers, nothing too passionate though as he broke off the kiss not long after. “’Course I’m still lurking, not going anywhere yet, still got Nobles to piss around with.” He exhaled a sigh, fucking Nobles.
Alythea snorted, rocking on her heels as she turned her soft stare over the amber sky. “The cunts always keep me busy,” she started with a shrug, “this is the first time 'ave been off-duty for a whole fuckin' week.” Alythea had not applied for the Stormguard with much genuine hope of being accepted, more just to see what would happen. The expeditionary group were some of Stormwind's finest, and that was no place for stable-girl; anyone could have told Amarae that, but clearly she had skipped over the obvious when reviewing the Lakeshire-born nuisance. Whether it was Alythea's sparkling potential, or the sheer amusement that could be sought in her attitude problems, the guard had taken her in with a smile. Alythea had only regret the decision since her first training drill. The only good thing she had found in The Stormguard, besides the generous pay check, was Russel Redstock: a corporal who had taken a particular shine to Alythea's unruly nature.
“I din' figure I'd catch you out at this time o' evenin',” another loose shrug came with the dainty girl's words. Alythea turned her head just in time to catch the kiss Garrot offered her, grinning against warm lips as they lingered. “Not tha' I'm complainin',” she added as he pulled away, fingers fumbling against the waning leather of Garrot's belt. “'am glad you're stickin' 'round for a bit. Fuck that, 'am more than just glad. I dun' want you to fuckin' leave.” At that, Alythea turned on the dusty street to face Garrot and snatch at his broad, gauntlet-clad hands. The pair were matched by persona only, and would have looked odd together did they choose to wear their titles on their apparel. It was their hailing from vividly contrasting backgrounds and fields of experience that made them an unlikely couple; their love of witty banter, excessive swearing and crude humour that bonded them. It would take more than that to keep them together, though.
Alythea knew straight up that Garrot would have to leave for the North again; she accepted it, but that didn't mean she wanted to. Alterac and its surrounding provinces had become the Undead's playground; she had seen it for herself. Alythea may have never been the most intelligent, certainly not wise, when it came to war, but she knew the odds of this battle. Unfortunately, she also knew that Renwick was all Garrot lived for and, in no way, shape or form, was she even going to consider asking him to stay for her. Instead, she could just pout and whine innocently in vain hope that he would stay a little bit longer. “I'm almost jealous, Butcher. Oh, how I adore pissin' around with Nobles,” Alythea snickered, sarcasm latching on to her tone with a familiar comfort. "Shame they all seem to hate me, eh?" She flashed a wolfish grin at that, lacing her fingers between Garrot's.
Alythea and Garrot I
Alythea tread the streets of Stormwind with a steady smile, dodging the leers of the city's occupants with a whistle and a skip. In her slacks and an over-sized shirt, Alythea was glad to have shed her plate for the evening. Her strolls were far more pleasant when she did not bear the weight of her uniform, most of all the weight that came with having The Stormguard's crest written across her bosom. Her gaze stooped over battered, leather boots as she walked, paying far too much attention to each cobble underfoot and too little to what was in front of her. Had the twilight sun not caught the canal in a golden wink, Alythea would have walked straight past the grey-clad man searching the waterways before him.
She didn't though. She glanced up to the battered shield on his back and ragged, ebony tail tousled by the wind; a fond grin taking button features. Briskly, yet quietly, Alythea trot up beside the familiar figure. She looked up to Garrot with a delicate smirk, squinting at the day's descent as it lit a spark in rusty eyes. She held her gaze on the man quietly, a mere dip of the head in greeting, slightly parted lips betraying her expectancy. Alythea was not discreet, nor sly, but she could hold a stare and fool anyone in to thinking she was woven of complications and mystery. Which was, of course, utter rubbish.
A long moment passed before Alythea's mismatched tone christened the dulling streets. She arched a brow and angled her head just slightly to direct the smooth tone towards her company, “evenin', Butcher,” she chimed. A warm smile forced the corners of her lips to dimple, her lashes to flutter in a fashion she would never willingly submit to. “Still lurkin' about then, eh?” She enquired with an ever-growing grin, hand sneaking away from her side to tug at the material of Garrot's tabard meekly.
