“You are my best friend as well as my lover, and I do not know which side of you I enjoy the most. I treasure each side, just as I have treasured our life together.”
When training, dummy day was always Jude's favorite. Not to say he didn't enjoy duel day or drill day, but dummy day? That was when initiates could really show Jude what he was working with. They always felt more confident striking at something that wasn't alive and moving, something that couldn't strike back at them, and a clear head made instruction all the easier.
The day was swiftly coming to an end when Jude decided that the grounds needed some tidying. Initiates often underestimated the amount of refuse they left behind each day — shattered posts, hacked straw, discarded weapons. Looking back on when he was an initiate, Jude knew he was a far different man.
So, he set off ensuring that everything was in order in preparation for drills the following morning while the stragglers finished up their training for the day. Weapons were tossed back onto awaiting racks and straw was swept to the sidelines. Just when he knelt and began to wind a coil of rope around his hand, a metallic clatter echoed across the yard. Attention captured, Jude glanced toward the commotion and spotted what had to be the palest initiate he'd ever seen — and not because that's simply how his tone ran, if Jude had to guess. The poor boy was drenched in sweat, eyes wide and focused on Jude.
"Ch-Champion Morningsong," he squeaked in quick greeting as he dove for his sword, trembling and mortified.
Immediately, Jude straightened, and the boy's terrified gaze followed him up, and up, and up. "Are you unwell?" he asked, head tilting sideways.
"I… I'm not…" The boy stared up at Jude as he towered above him, and Jude knew exactly what he saw — an impenetrable wall of armor that could, more or less, crush his head in. But Jude kept his distance and a calm stance. The last thing he wanted was to scare someone so green. Quickly after, the boy rose too, taller than Jude and yet still shaking in his boots. "My sword, I… I dropped it."
Jude's helmeted gaze fell from the boy's face to the sword that had landed just beyond his feet and he clicked his tongue in quiet understanding. "Yes, I can see that." With a shrug and a hum, he nodded toward the racks. "Well, I've just straightened them, but you're more than welcome to grab another from behind me if you intend to continue with your training."
"You mean… you aren't upset?" The boy blinked at Jude as if he'd grown two heads.
"…Should I be?"
The boy's blond brows wilted, shoulders falling as he huffed a sigh. "A good paladin is never supposed to lose his grip. Champion Dawnfall says only fools and cowards drop their swords."
That bastard? Rich. A quiet laugh echoed through Jude's helmet as he shook his head. "Perhaps I've overestimated the capabilities of Champion Dawnfall's memory then."
"What?"
"He seems to have forgotten himself is all," Jude supplied softly. "Dawnfall and I trained together as adepts, and I'd wager that his sword saw the ground more than it saw his own hand."
That seemed to light a spark behind the boy's golden eyes. "Really?"
Jude nodded once, amusement lacing his voice. "Really. Though the same could be said for me when I was first beginning as a paladin. I'm sure the same could be said for most. What truly matters isn't that you've dropped the sword, but that you're willing to pick it up and continue on." Briefly, he eyed the sword that the young man had scrambled to pick up, and when he next spoke, there was a pleased smile in his voice. "It looks to me like you have very little to worry about, Initiate."
His complexion seemed to have already begun improving, still pale but growing pink with an embarrassed flush. Once, he ducked his head sheepishly, but huffed a soft laugh soon after. Already, he appeared lighter. "Thank you, Champion Morningsong."
Jude sat the coiled rope aside and tipped his helmet in the Initiate's direction. "Of course." Then, wryly, he said, "And if you find that Dawnfall continues giving you grief, tell him I'd like to have a word and I'll take no issue in reminding him of where he began."
Truly, only Jude could make a threat sound so friendly.
Nerissa Silversun wasn't really one to meddle in her siblings affairs. She didn't much mind what they got up to in their private lives. Mostly because she didn't want them putting their noses in her private life. The only time she'd gotten involved really was after Ari lost his arm. The man didn't talk about what happened much, but she saw what it did to her big brother. Her and Merrick had tried to be as understanding as they could. But there were just some things they couldn't understand because they weren't in his shoes, his mind. Had she been shocked when he turned to drugs to dull the pain? No, she'd seen many people do the same when it came to any sort of pain. So when it was clear she was unable to help him, and that there was no way of stopping him? Well the best she could do was at least make sure the drugs weren't laced with anything else.
She, unlike her brothers, went into the shadier business's, pulled in by a friend who needed the help. So she knew a great deal of the dealers in Silvermoon and threatened the ones that liked to lace their shit with more that if they so much as looked at him they'd find their throats slit. After that she'd left him to his own devices. The only person who could help Ari was Ari. At least that was what she had thought, as much as it pained her to watch him go down such a destructive path. But then she started getting reports about him being back in the city. She'd been off on a job, and even Merrick had sent her a letter telling her. She had finished her job in a rush, not her style but all the same it had gotten done. The Night Hag struck again.
When she first spotted her brother he had been in the exchange, he was far enough away that he'd not spotted her, and Nerissa was good at blending herself in anyway. His hair was red and there was the smallest woman known to man standing next to him. He looked happy, he looked almost like the brother she'd had before he lost his limb, before Theryn had left him, before all of the heartache. He looked down at the woman with a smile she'd only seen a handful of times when he'd been with Theryn. So she decided to ask around about the woman before she decided to approach her brothers. Which was why she was here right now, outside of the Spire flipping a coin in her hand.
From every report she'd gotten the girl, and yes that was exactly what she was to her because she'd barely frozen into her slowed aging process, was a walking tragedy. She'd barely gotten to know what their people had been like before the fall and her whole life after was full of conflict after conflict. She was nearly as war worn as any long standing veteran which was probably why most people didn't blink an eye at her. Nerissa would be shocked if anyone actually ever asked the girl her age. But it wasn't uncommon in their culture for there to be such large age differences. When you lived for hundreds of years age became a moot point. She wanted to meet the girl, make her own assumptions make sure that she was worthy of her brother. After all Theryn had turned out to not be. Taking in a deep breath she pushed from the wall and shoved her hands in her pockets.
She strolled into the Spire only a few people glanced her way, but mostly she was ignored. Not uncommon, she was sure people like her came and went from here often. Then she spotted her, the short redheaded woman that had captured her brother's attention. She sat at a desk head down reading over something as she tapped her fingers along the desk. She was pretty she had to hand it to her brother, he had good taste. She wondered what she was working on for her to be so intent on. She got her answer quickly when another woman came rushing over seeming nearly giddy.
"Esme! I found what we were looking for!" Her head popped up and Light the smile she graced the other woman with was pure fucking sunshine. She made grabby hands for the book the other woman had and they both looked over it head mashed together. Eyes scanning quickly and she nearly squealed with delight at whatever it was she saw. "Oh Alania! This is perfect! We can get him the divorce he wants now." Nerissa was shocked at what she heard. The girl was looking for ways to help her brother divorce his husband? She'd looked for him for a few years after he'd left her brother but she'd been unable to find him herself. "I told you that after so many years of not seeing a spouse it becomes abandonment. The magistery allows divorce without needing the other's signature. You don't even have to put it out in the papers or anything at this point. He's even two years past so he is for sure going to be able to get this divorce of his."
"It is still going to take awhile though, but its a start." Esme sighed but bookmarked the page and snapped the book shut. The woman named Alania shook her head with a shit eating grin on her face. "Nope! You're studying under a Magister you can get them to push it through a little faster." Nerissa grinned at the loop hole. She'd heard enough, the girl was willing to help her brother detach from his dead weight and in her book that meant she was good enough.
"A divorce, moving in together, and then I just need to tell him that I don't think the Light left him and I think… I think he will stop being so lost."
"And get him off of the thistle."
"I don't mind him using thistle, that isn't as important as this other stuff."
"I thought you were fixing him."
"I'm not fixing anything. He isn't broken, just… lost. We all get that way sometimes and we just have to find the light in the dark is all."
Nerissa didn't linger after that, she made her way out of the Spire. Her own heart felt light and she was nothing but smiles. Yeah, the girl was worthy of her big brother. She wasn't sure there was anyone more worthy of him than that woman in there. She looked up at the sun and smiled even wider. He'd found his light in the dark it seemed.
@daily-writing-challenge
(Mentions @silversunss because it always does lol)
For all intents and purposes, the bench that sat directly in front of the gates of Silvermoon belonged to Ari. It's where he smoked, where he held lighthearted and serious conversations alike. He laughed on that bench, cried on that bench — hell, kissed on that bench. It was seemingly a constant in his life that he wasn't privy to giving up easily. So, that's where the day found him unsurprisingly.
What was surprising was that he found himself waiting for the sun to go down. Most days, he found himself far too busy to sit around as he once had done. Whether it was practicing his routine for the upcoming Faire, or strength training his left hand, or wrangling two growing cubs that loved to wrestle, Ari found himself hard-pressed more often than not. Not that he was complaining. He loved his life as it was.
That day, though, Merrick was busy at the Hall of Blood, too involved with his own business to train. The Faire wouldn't be around for another few weeks, and the cubs were dropped off for a day of big-cat socialization, so that left quite little for Ari to do. Free time? Hell yeah. He found the bench early enough in the day so that it was already warmed through by the sunlight when he dropped down onto it and flipped open his copy of A Simpleton's Guide to Arcane.
Did the title still embarrass him? Yes. Yes it did.
Still, he pored over the pages and unfamiliar words as he waited for Esme to return from the Spire. It would be hours, he knew, but in the meantime, some light reading couldn't hurt, right? Soundlessly, his lips parted as his thumb traced each line, brows furrowed in concentration. It made such little sense to him that he expected to grow too frustrated to continue by page ten. Then came page twenty. Then, fifty. Then eighty-four. His mind wandered every few pages, sure, but strangely that's what kept him going — it wandered to her.
The way her face lit up when even a trace of magic was mentioned, how she could go on and on about the fundamentals and never tire, how topics of illicit magical practices and spell-hunting brought the prettiest spark to her eyes. He may have never hoped to grasp even a quarter of what that damn book had to offer, but if understanding even a bit meant understanding her? He'd read five 'simpleton' books if that's what it took.
By the time he managed to cross a hundred pages, the sun was beginning to dip behind the trees and bathed everything in gold. Evening meant that Esme would find him soon, and he imagined her laughing softly when she saw him waiting for her in his usual spot, giving him that soft smile of hers. He'd hide the book, of course, and he'd tug her into his lap like nothing else mattered.
Maybe one day, he'd tell her. Maybe once he finished, he'd ask her to read it to him from the start. And maybe that was foolish, but Ari'd never been the kind of man to care about looking foolish — especially not when it came to Esme.
CW: descriptions of depression, mentioned limb loss
"Thank you." A saucer of tea was slid across the table and into Theryn's space before he even had the chance to ask for it. Caeus knew him far too well. It was still blissfully hot when he took a sip and Caeus sat across from him with a saucer and cup of his own. His long fingers drummed against the table as he seemed to debate whether or not to leave the room's elephant unaddressed.
"So…" Caeus began. "How is he?"
Theryn drew in a deep breath and gently scratched at his stubble. "He… isn't well." He blew out a heavy sigh after, his hand raking through his hair instead. "The healers say that he's improving with each day, but… they aren't the ones that have to come home to him, Cae. They don't see him as I do. He's miserable. He doesn't sleep, he barely eats. And when he does, it's because I make him."
Caeus looked upon him with pity, setting his saucer and cup aside to instead reach across the table. He took Theryn's hand into his own. "It's been weeks, I know, but… if the healers say he's to improve, then who we are we to doubt them, hm?"
Perhaps Caeus was right in thinking as such, but still, it left a sour taste in Theryn's mouth. As if his friend was only saying what he thought Theryn wanted to hear. His own tea was left forgotten to chill. "You haven't the slightest clue how bad it gets and neither do they." A frown curved his lips at the corners as he shook his head. "I catch him crying at night sometimes, claiming that it still hurts. You know… the one he lost.” In emphasis, his hand leapt to his own arm, and it stayed there as if the contact brought him comfort. “Most days, he won't so much as look at me. When he does, it's as if he's afraid of what he sees, and… I don't blame him. I know it can't have been easy, whatever he went through, but—"
"But you deserve happiness too," Caeus finished for him. Theryn wanted to refute it on instinct, to insist that he shouldn’t be thinking of himself while his husband suffered, but wasn't that the truth?
"I'm his husband."
"And yet you're so much more than that. You're his husband, yes, but you aren't meant to be his caretaker forever. You're… utterly brilliant. A mind on you sharper than the swords of most. The potential you possess is astounding." It was so very like Caeus to flatter him when he was feeling down, though he desperately pushed aside the way those words left something fluttering in his chest.
"I…" The words caught in Theryn's throat. "I don't know what to do."
Caeus huffed a soft sigh and gave Theryn's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Give him time," he repeated. "Have him continue to see his healers each week and perhaps, in time, improvement will show. But Ari has to want to get better. I've known many men who've lost limbs — most to war — and none have acted as he has."
"I know. It's just that—"
"Sooner or later, you must open your eyes, Theryn." Caeus's voice was firm, though it wasn't raised, and a deep ache settled in Theryn's chest. "Do not let yourself be buried beneath his grief. And if he isn't willing to better himself for you, then why should you continue to reward him with grace? Do you reward the dog that wallows in his own piss too?" Theryn frowned deeply at him, though… perhaps, in some twisted way, Caeus was right. Another squeeze was offered, Caeus's hand warm against his own as he said, "Just something for you to think on."
CW: Non-graphic sexual content, mentioned sexual coercion
Somehow, Talora knew that the Illidari she'd been trying to seduce would return.
She'd waited for him most diligently, lounging on a chaise in the Den of Mortal Delights in the hopes that she'd finally be able to offer him satisfaction. What other purpose did she serve? This is what her life was now devoted to, and a shy Illidari? That was something she hardly expected to encounter. Of course, the man insisted he wasn't shy. He was particular. But Talora could see it clearly in the way he blushed like a virgin.
It came as little surprise when he rounded the corner, though she couldn't contain her glee. A pleased squeal escaped Talora as the man dropped onto the chaise next to her — so far away that it should likely have been offensive. Rather than take that gesture to heart, however, she was on him the moment he settled.
For what it was worth, he was handsome. Many of the Illidari she pleasured had retained at least a fraction of the beauty they'd once possessed. Some had wings, sure, and some sported sharp spines where smooth skin once sat, but in many cases — including the case of this man — they were easier on the eyes than they likely should’ve been. Dangerous indeed.
Talora hummed as she slipped into his lap, brushing some dark hair from his scowling face with her manicured nails. "Mm. So serious," she tutted with a teasing pout. His cheeks were squished between her fingers before he jerked away from her touch with an aggravated growl. Splendid. So he was like other Illidari in certain ways. Aggravation usually led to better sex, she'd found, so the urge to pester the man continued to grow. "Are you ready for me tonight, Erenid?"
Like always, Erenid's interest seemed less than enthusiastic as he shook his head with a grunt. The night before, she'd gotten a kiss from him finally. The night before that, she'd tried to touch him only to be met with with indifference. At Black Temple, her purpose was in the pleasure she could bring to others, not what she could force, so she'd let him come to her after that.
She took the rejection with grace, her grin widening into something mischievous as she drew a fingernail down his chest. "I see… Would you like to kiss me again at the very least?" Before he could speak in that flat, gruff voice of his, she pouted and said, "I haven't stopped thinking of it. You kiss so sweetly…"
After a moment of hesitance, Erenid relaxed beneath her and nodded once, silent as he took it upon himself to thread his fingers through her hair and to press his lips to hers. Most of the Illidari that sought Talora out in the Den were as hungry for sex as they were for battle — or, better yet, hungry from battle. Lust borne from adrenaline and heat. Erenid was yet to experience his first fight, still training day to day. So, if not right then, Talora expected he'd be ready for her before long.
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