Nobility
(Short story)
The last shreds of sunlight had faded now, and the Eversong forest would grow quiet and dark. Rhaella, arms folded, eyes scanning, keeps a brisk pace as she goes to the Stargazer household. Nobility. Rhae was no fan of the group anymore, her childhood being raised as a lady taught her little about truly living, and more about what it’s like to be a porcelain doll in someone else’s dollhouse. What was it like to truly live? It was fighting, the hour long sparring sessions at the temple. It was loving, her heart beating and reminding her of Velethos and her children. It was being a mother, seeing Lennora smile and giggle, her inocent little daughter... Rhae begins to smile idly, the thoughts draw at the fringes of her focus as she walks. She sighs now, setting her hands over her stomach, and chuckles, soon, she’d know more about being a mother than ever before. Soon. Soon was the wrong word, but soon enough for Rhae to feel anxious constantly. The small walls around Stargazer manor were in Rhae’s sight now, she was close. She was pleased to see guards near the area, giving her a reassurance of her safety was worth more than almost anything. As she approaches the enterance, a pudgy, short elf comes up and puts a hand out pompously, “Cease! This is the manor of his Magesterial Nobility, Anestor Stargazer! Who goes there?” Something was off about this elf Rhae thought, the way he postures and speaks. She noted the scent of honey and alcohol from his breath, and a small stain on his shirt. Good, Rhae thought, if he gave her trouble she had a way in at least. “Rhaella Sunheart, I need to see the young Moranda.” The pudgy elf turns his nose to the air, “You need to take your common filth back to the streets! The lady Stargazer has no time for you!” Rhae smiles pleasantly, getting close to the man, enough to cause him some discomfort, “I said begone, or I shall call the guards!” Moranda sets her hand on the mans chin and tilts his head to look at her, her smile was sweet, but her words anything but, “My good sir, that would be a mistake, certainly the guards would not be favorable to your drunken disorderly conduct, mm?” The man peers at her searchingly, just as Rhae reaches into a coat pocket on the inside of his jacket and quickly snatches a flask, with a mischevious smirk on her expression. “Tsk tsk, come now good man, I only ask you take my request to her, we don’t need to make an... Incident of this now, do we?” The pudgy man grabs and tries to get the flask, but Rhae simply being taller just avoids him, “I’ll give you three minutes before I cause a scene you won’t escape.” The elf, now trapped in this scenario, lets out a ‘hmph!” and walks into the home, coming out a minute later, “Her ladyship Moranda will see you, and begs you come to her aid mending” Mending? Rhae wasn’t told anything about mending. She supposed she’d have to improvise, all of her mending materials were left at home. “Uh-yes, very good, where is she?” The man gives her directions through the house and is handed back his flask, which he drinks from then hides back in his coat, Rhae still smiles pleasantly as she enters, going to the back of the home to find Moranda laying in bed, half-naked and letting out small sounds of pain. Moranda breathes shallow intakes of breath, and speaks quietly, “Mender from the Highguard... Help.” Rhae nods and goes to Moranda’s side, easily seeing the signs of her battered and broken rib-cage, it seems a mender was around before her but is just strangely not present. Curious. Why would this mender disappear from his patient? Perhaps to fetch more supplies? No, everything’s here, perhaps he was ordered away? Unlikely. Rhae blinks and shoves away the thoughts, instead beginning to mutter in pandaren, focusing her energy on summoning a small gale of mists. The room would lose any intensity, a sensation of relief and serenity would wash over in gentle waves. Rhae begins the mending process with the mists, first dulling Moranda to the pain of her broken ribs, “You won’t feel a thing for about a day, that’s normal.” Moranda sighs, her whole body relaxes as she no longer feels the pain, “Thank you... Rhaella, was it?” Rhae nods, continuing her fancy handwork over the wound. “Mhm, I heard you were wounded and came as quick as I could, it’s the least I could do.” A small lie, harmless. Moranda looks down at Rhae for a moment then shrugs, “I haven’t seen you before.” Generally, that is a good sign, not having seen one of the menders, but not quite this time. “I stick to myself and my family mostly, pregnancy has relieved me of active duty.” Moranda frowns in concentration, “Pregnant? Hm... So you’re the other one I heard about... You must be Velethos’ fiancee.” Rhae was given pause for a moment then just continues to mend. What? How did she get that? “I am, how do you figure?” Moranda shrugs slightly, “You’ve a ring, you’re pregnant and Velethos claims his fiancee to be so, his fiancee isn’t Rae so... Must be you.” Impressive. Rhae was not usually impressed, but she’d make an exception this time. She had taken Moranda for a much simpler girl than she let on, but perhaps Rhae had misjudged her. Moranda looks over at Rhae searchingly for a few moments, “You came here to see if I was legitimate with my offer to Velethos. I’d scarcely believe a mender would be sent to me, especially in my own estate. I also don’t buy your smile for a moment.” Rhae continued to work but her mind was racing. Was she being outmanipulated by this almost child of a girl? That can’t be... She had to regain the upper hand. “Mm, Velethos doesn’t sometimes either, I must be getting rusty with practiced smiles, been ages since I had to perform any such thing during a ball or lessons.” Moranda tilts her head, “Lessons? Commoners take lessons on noble etiquette?” Rhae chuckles and shakes her head, “Likely not, but any lady of house Dawnfury certainly learned.” Moranda leans up on an elbow, frowning and peering at Rhae, “They all died, I remember it.” Rhae shrugs, “I don’t care too much if you believe me, but you’ll find it easier to trust that fact than that I learned the noble lifestyle as a street urchin.” The gales of mists were working to Rhae’s advantage. This was one of her favorite techniques, as it was the most unassuming. The serenity and bliss brought by the mists tended to make one less apt on picking up nuances of body language or tone, so Moranda just lays back down on the bed, going silent. Rhae finishes her mending and stands, “Rest a while, I do hope soon we meet under better circumstances to discuss our deal?” Moranda just shrugs, “Nothing to discuss...” Rhae just shakes her head and begins to leave, she hides her exhaustion from mending, though certainly she feels it dragging down her steps. She exits the estate and heads back home, writing the events in her black journal.
