#cervvy

[protector-ofthe-wilds]

Artwork commissioned from @valentjin Cervontis Evermoon belongs to @druid-of-the-flame Koda Littlefur belongs to me (@protector-ofthe-wilds) Fine to reblog, but do not repost.

[protector-ofthe-wilds]

Elune's will was not to be questioned.

Koda knew this. She was raised on this. The entire culture of her people was steeped within the knowledge that their deity - their Mother Moon - was an infallible bastion of righteousness. Whatever pleased Her should spark delight amongst the Kaldorei; whatever served as an affront against Her should be met with swift and divine retribution. There was no wiggle room on this, no grey area, no debate to be had.

When Elune spoke, Her word was to be obeyed. Her judgement was to be fulfilled. Her will was not to be questioned.

And yet, as Koda sat on the edge of her bed in the earliest hours of the morning, watching Cervontis sleep, she couldn't help but wonder, 'Why?'

There was the easy answer: Cervontis had gone against the tenants of their faith and committed crimes against their people that needed to be answered for. And in the eyes of many of their kin, penance was a far greater kindness than he deserved. But Elune had granted him with mercy, and so the Kaldorei obliged their Goddess' word.

But, there was no such thing as an easy answer, and certainly not in this case. With what Cervontis had told her, despite having likely done terrible things while under the influence of the Flame, the initial choice to travel the dark path had not been his own.

And so, the wondering.

Why?

Why would Elune punish a victim? She knew everything, and so She certainly knew the true circumstances of his conversion. So why would She elect to banish him back to the Firelands at the completion of his atonement? Wouldn't She rather see him free of those chains? Wouldn't She champion the wounded, not inflict them with further suffering?

And, Cervontis was doing so well. In the short time Koda had known him, she'd watched his personality transform. He was still rough around the edges, sure, but nowhere near how he'd been when they first met. He was listening, and learning, and trying to be a little better each day than he'd been the day before. He was not the sort of person that needed to be exiled, and certainly not to the hellscape that was the Firelands.

So...why?

It was a simple question, but it rocked the foundation of everything Koda had ever known to its core. Because, if she was questioning the Goddess' judgement on Cervontis, then she also had to question Her judgement on her an'da.

And, even further beyond that, Koda had to question her own feelings about her an'da and his exile. While recent events had begun to elicit hope that her father could be redeemed, it didn't change the fact that she had hated him so much for so long for what he'd done to their family. Even now, her anger burned hot, disgusted by his selfish choice to walk the path of a heretic, but...

But what if it hadn't been him who was wrong? What if the one who was wrong was...

She couldn't complete the thought. Couldn't bring herself to that conclusion, regardless of how wildly these thoughts were spinning around in her mind.

And so, instead, Koda focused on the man before her. Followed the steady rise and fall of his chest with her gaze. He seemed so...peaceful. So at ease, despite it all.

She wouldn't let them steal that from him. She wouldn't sit idly by while they tossed him back into containment, back into the fires of his torment, undoing all the work they had put into making him the man he wanted to be. Koda would find a way to quench him of the sin that burned within him; whether through the latent power of the seed the Keeper had planted in him, or through converting the flames of destruction into the healing flames of the Red Dragonflight, or a mixture of both. Regardless of the method, she would not see the Druid imprisoned again - not by the Wardens, not by the Sentinels...not even by Elune Herself.

Koda had promised Cervontis his freedom, and she was not a woman who broke her promises.

No matter what the cost.

[protector-ofthe-wilds]

One more...

[protector-ofthe-wilds]

With Coranos' farewell spoken, Koda allowed her arm to drop to her side, holding the sending stone loosely within the clutch of her fingers. While they had been speaking, she had begun to pace away from the harbor and towards the Trade District so she could collect the necessary things from the bank...but now that the conversation was done, the archer found herself frozen there beside the bridge she needed to cross. A small frown and drooping ears marked her pensive expression, her stare unfocused as it rested on the canal ahead of her.

Koda wasn't scared of what was to come. She didn't get scared. She had experienced far too much over the century of her life to have that luxury anymore. One must be a certain degree of fearless and level-headed to not only call the wilds of Ashenvale home, but to also swear allegiance in the defense of it. There was little room for error in these things...and much less room for trepidation. As a freelance protector, Koda had to focus her attention on acting, swiftly and surely, putting everything else but the greater good to the side - including personal feelings. Especially personal feelings. She didn't get to be scared.

Still.

She was a realistic woman; she knew what she was about to walk into. She knew that she was the only person who seemed to actually care about Cervontis' greater well-being - not his wardens, not the Sentinels, and not even his beloved Claw. It was up to her to be his stalwart advocate - up to her to ensure this Terry guy didn't get exactly what he was looking for. To claim whatever thing he was after in Desolace, sure, but much more importantly? She couldn't let him claim the sanity Cervontis had fought to reclaim. Regardless of what he had been before, Cervontis was a good man, now. That was something Koda was willing to bet everything - everything - on. That was something good and worthy of sacrifice. Worthy of her sacrifice.

If they turned against him, she would stand beside him. If they threatened his freedom, she would strike back in defense of it. And if they tried to kill him...well, it was cliche to say, but they'd have to make it through her, first.

And thusly, the unease came.

If she did that...if she stood beside him...then that would be it. There was no going back after turning her bow on his wardens. No going back to the life before, no going back to quiet days lounging in the city...

...no going back to Coranos.

The pensive expression turned into an outright frown as she exhaled a sharp breath through her nostrils, promptly storing the stone that connected her with the Dracthyr into her satchel. This was no time to think of things like that. She had a duty; she had made a promise. This was no time for trepidation, and certainly no time for personal feelings - whether for Coranos or Cervontis. She would do what she did best and simply act, swiftly and surely, with nothing but the greater good in her sights.

Her frown wavered, but she refused to let the other thoughts crawl in past the wall she'd slammed into place around her field of vision - blinders in the form of denial.

Because it would be far too difficult to face the truth that caused her heart to thrum steadily against her rib cage as she resumed her walk.

She didn't get to be scared. But the thought of never seeing Coranos again, well...

...that terrified her.

[protector-ofthe-wilds]

"Ironforge," the Gilnean said, after the longest drag Koda had ever seen someone take while smoking. "Or, less specifically, Dun Morogh. Somewhere in there is a human who'd been workin' with th' Wildhammers up'n th' Hinterlands."

"Why would he tell me what I need to know?" Koda's question caused the dual-toned eyes of the information broker to fall on her. Though the elf refused to shrink under that stare, the pressing urge to clarify her inquiry was suddenly upon her. With a breath, she continued.

"If he's close with the Wildhammers, he's not going to be all that loose-lipped, right?"

The Gilnean exhaled a smokey laugh, tapping off ash from the end of her cigarette. "I used past tense, Hound." There was that nickname again. Being called a tracking hound, as she searched out any hints of her an'da's whereabouts...the human thought herself so clever.

"Fine. So, he's not with them anymore. Still doesn't mean that he'll tell me where I can find the idol." Koda's gaze then squinted, holding that stare on the woman across from her. Unphased, the Gilnean fluffed a hand through the burgundy waves of her hair, only glancing back to Koda when she continued speaking. "Why don't you get the information from him, huh? I thought that was your whole thing."

"You're not payin' me 'nough t'do th' dirty work," the woman grinned, smoke lazily trailing out from between her lips. "I've kept my eyes open - for both th' idol an' your target - an' now I'm giving ya' a lead. Wot more could ya' expect for fifty silver?"

Koda couldn't argue with that, so instead she wrinkled her nose up into a look of distaste. There were twenty insults dancing on the back of her tongue, ready to lash forward towards the smug human...but she swallowed them back, electing for diplomacy. After all, something was better than nothing...and she'd only had a whole lot of nothing for the past three months. No need burning the only bridge that seemed to be leading somewhere.

Yes, at last she could finally do something else besides just waiting around this stupid city, sitting on her stupid hands, and crushing on a stupid apostate with his stupid, pretty hair and wild eyes and showstopping grins and heartrending laughter and...

"Dun Morogh," Koda said suddenly, breaking the temporary silence almost breathlessly. The Gilnean quirked a brow, but nodded along in agreement. "I'll need...some descriptions of what he looks like. Maybe where he was last seen. Anything you've got."

The Gilnean huffed an amused smirk, twirling her cigarette through the air, the smoke following it loyally. "He's a human in a land of Dwarves," she'd said, tilting her head with a grin. "How hard could it be?"

~~~

"A human in a land of Dwarves," Koda had repeated nasally, stomping into the room she was renting. The stone door closed heavy behind her; the mountain sighed a brisk breath of air into the room before being shut out. "How hard could it be?!"

Bundling up her cloak, she hurled it onto the bed with a growl of frustration. Joining it, she plopped onto the edge of the mattress, immediately taking to dragging her boots from her cold and tired feet. Elune, -everything- felt cold and tired: her nose and her ears and her fingers and even her ass. With that very pressing thought in mind, it didn't take her long to abandon the bed, instead moving to stand in front of the gentle crackling of the fireplace. Hands rubbed together before she held her palms extended towards the heat, as if begging it to save her...as if in surrender...

She saw him, there, in the flames. Heard him. That ever present aura, the comfort of a campfire. The warmth and the intensity and the very real threat of what could happen if those flames ever escaped their containment.

The threat of what she would have to do should that happen.

A groan, and Koda had rolled her eyes to the side to stare towards the mostly empty room. The Dwarves' decor left much to be desired aesthetically, but it was certainly a sturdy, well-built structure. At the very least, she didn't have to fear the cold here.

She wondered, for a moment, what a room in Winterspring would be like. How warm he'd keep it from his presence alone. How alive it would feel between their conversations and laughter and fleeting glances and...

The moment she felt the blush begin to heat up her cheeks, she quickly abandoned the thought, turning away from the heat. There were more important things to do than stand there, mushy and melting, thinking about a man who would never...could never...be hers.

No. She had far more important work to do than that.

[protector-ofthe-wilds]

Tears. Tears and tears and...why was she crying?

Why the fuck was she crying?

There's a gasp for breath, a shuddering inhale cutting through a silent sob, and now she's rubbing at her eyes like they'd personally offended her. Like they were the sole reason for all of her troubles.

All her troubles. And, there were so many.

An'da was gone to Elune-knows-where. There hadn't been a single proper clue to hint at even his continued existence, let alone his presence in this stupid city of stone. In the meantime, she was fighting an uphill battle trying to redeem an apostate, if only so she could prove to herself that there was a chance for Thavenar. That there was a proper, Elune-honest chance that she wouldn't have to put an arrow straight through him when they finally reunited.

And now...and now...she was slumped against the tree she'd called home for the last handful of months, crying her genuine eyes out because said apostate had his sights set on some pretty druid?

Beautiful beyond words, he'd said.

A strangled growl of frustration finally gives some volume to her soundless weeping, and she digs her face into the palms of her hands in reply. Oh, this was so stupid! Was she such a child that she was going to throw a tantrum because a man she'd started to fancy had no interest in her?

What had she expected? He was probably older than her an'da, for fuck's sake. Not to mention that any thought of a future with him was non-existent. The man's fate was sealed by both their peers and their Goddess in the most fitting punishment: he would spend the rest of his days rotting away in the hell he'd plotted against the world from. Well. If his Wardens and Sentinels didn't kill him, first.

The thought makes her hair stand on end, like a cat bristling their fur at an enemy - real or imagined.

No.

No, she wouldn't let that happen. Not now, not in twenty-thousand years, not even over her own dead body. (She knew there were ways to come back, after all.)

This was...this didn't matter. These fragile, fickle little feelings didn't matter. If she spent her time getting caught up on those, this heretic didn't stand a chance. His pretty bear wasn't here to protect him; it fell to Koda to do so. And, how would she ever be able to concentrate on that duty - to both her friend and, more importantly, her an'da - if she were fawning over Cervontis during each minute they were together?

No, he had said...hadn't he said?...that there were no coincidences. This was a blessing, in its own way. She had a duty, and it was not to be his beloved. It was so much more important that that. Secure his life, and let him live out his redeemed existence with the vapid druid girl. So be it.

But, somehow...it doesn't stop the flashes of his visage from reeling through her mind's eye. That goofy smirk. His unrelenting heat. That wild, flame filled stare. His lips...the voice behind them...the laugh.

Oh, fuck, his laugh.

Tears. Tears and tears and...fuck, she knew exactly why she was crying.

She knew that nothing else but unrequited love hurts this much.