#eladea

[glyllena]

I haven’t written in ages and I feel bad. But Relke got kicked in the feels last night so I had to do something cute and funny.

Eladea stretched her neck up and forward, sniffing. It was just ropes, just a bunch of ropes. She rubbed her muzzle along the taut supporting rope, teeth bared. Sitting back on her haunches, she lifted first one, then both front paws, suspended in mid-air as she peered. It was just a hammock. Xaph and Relke made it look so easy. And comfortable. And cozy. The oversized panther rested her paws on the edge and hauled herself up. She stood, tense, as the hammock swung back and forth precariously, the ropes digging into the pads of her paws. As it finally slowed down to a less panic-inducing speed, Ela sighed, and seemed to forget herself, relaxing and flopping over on her side. In the blink of an eye and a whirl of fur and twirling rope, Ela found herself tangled hopelessly in the hammock, limbs protruding from various angles and fur endlessly ruffled as the roped diamonds pressed into her skin. She gave a low, pathetic yowl, struggling against the binds and finding herself more trapped. The yowling continued, growing louder and more desperate. Finally, blessedly, Xaph came out onto the porch, muttering as if to himself, "What in the Light-chiming hell have you gotte-" He stopped short and broke off when he spotted Eladea. His pause seemed endless as he took in the scene, then he burst into belly-shaking laughter. "What did you do, Cat?" Eladea growled disgruntledly from the tangled hammock. There was practically a thought-bubble over her head, between her twitching ears: No questions, draenei, just get. Me. Out. Xaph called for Relke's help, and together the men disentangled Eladea from her trap, chuckling at her misfortune and uncharacteristic clumsiness. She finally fell from the ropes with an undignified thud and a great scrabbling of claws on the wooden porch floor as she shot away from them and hid underneath the porch, clearly humiliated. No one was able to coax her out for two whole days.

[glyllena]

TMI TUESDAY

It's a thing.  GO DO.

[glyllena]

Tuesday! Things! Ask them!

[glyllena]

When Eladea's eyes opened again, the garrison was dark and quiet.  Her purple eyes peered around the room, ears and tail twitching as she took in the sounds of the night guard and the occasional snore from the man beside her.  She lifted her head and sniffed quietly in Lila's direction, ensuring the girl was still sound asleep.  Rolling onto her belly, she looked to the big draenei beside her.  His mouth was hanging open as he snored lightly, fast asleep on his back. 

She had been gone too long.  Maeorra's demise had hit her harder than she expected, and when the Shadows charged through the Dark Portal, she hesitated, got separated.  She eventually sneaked her way into Shadowmoon Valley, getting distracted by the views of the sky, the moons of Draenor, sidestepping the fact that it was infested with Iron Horde, the Sargeri, and otherworldly beasts that probably wanted her dead.   But she'd found the garrison.  The right one, with her people, her draenei, including a version of Maeorra that smelled wrong... Well, alive.  But the effect was jarring and upsetting.  And almost immediately, she fell in with the draenei man who seemed to be the grounds keeper, or something along those lines, who had apparently recently acquired a young draenei girl who had been orphaned.  Ela didn't know how or why, and found she didn't much care.  They were adorable at this age.  And Lila kept her busy.  While the man Lila called Zap took care of things around the garrison, he let Ela and Lila scamper around the buildings and roll around the grass, Lila whispering secrets and stories in Eladea's furry ears.   At night, Ela had been climbing onto the girl's bed, keeping her warm and keeping the nightmares at bay.  But tonight, Zap was right.  Ela was a little too big for the bed, and Lila's nightmares were starting to wane, so he shoved his mattress next to the bed and allowed Eladea to climb on it with him.   But the other day, they'd had an incident.  Ela was too excited, toppling Zap over as she climbed on his chest while Lila tickled him.  And he'd come up swinging.  At her.  She'd shoved the girl aside, blocking her from seeing his reaction, or seeing her own angry growl, but it unnerved the druid.   Still, for the most part, he was a nice enough man.  Even if he did call her Cat, instead of by her name, though it was clearly etched into the leather choker around her neck.  He clearly needed attention and comfort, as well.  It must be strange to suddenly be saddled with a kid who isn't yours.  So she'd relented, flopping down beside Zap after he nestled Lila in the bed.   Ela's eyes glinted in the scant light coming into the room.  She watched Zap sleep for a long while, listening intently to his deep and even breathing.  Now that she was basically eye level with him, she could see a few scars where his shirt parted.  They looked like clawmarks.  She lifted one of her own paws, flexing her claws and staring at them.  He must have been hurt by ... She didn't let herself finish the sentence.  Someone like her?   Something else?  Were there creatures somewhere that would attack?  How old were those scars? Eladea sighed through her nose, her eyes closing for a long moment.  She scooted closer to Zap, curling right up against his body and laying her big head on his belly, nudging her nose under the hand that rested there.  

( glaucophane )

[glyllena]

Finally, after the last visitor to Maeorra's cell departed, hours after she had arrived, Eladea emerged from the shadows, resting her chin on the crossbar of the cell door, her eyes sad as she peered up at the Watcher.

"I wondered when you'd come," Maeorra seemed to smile, sliding from the ledge of wall in her room, dropping to a knee and stroking the druid's head.  The Watcher deftly removed her communicator from Eladea's collar, quickly tucking it away in a pocket, then watched the snoozy guard.  "I'll have this ready for Lena when she comes later." 

Eladea lifted herself up, resting her massive front paws on the bars of the cell, her muzzle peeking through them.  Maeorra also stood, looking spent, accepting of her fate.  Eladea's purple eyes shone sadly as she gave a soft rumble.  She stretched out a paw towards the Ebon. 

Mae gave her a distracted ruffling of fur, looking away.

"Take care of them, Eladea."  Eladea was left hanging on the door of the cell as Maeorra took her place again on the ledge.  Her paws dangled just inside as she stared.

Ela dropped back down to the floor, her paws padding the landing.  She swiftly transformed to her Kaldorei body, rising to her feet and swinging her bright blue braid around her shoulder, fiddling with it as she opened her mouth to speak.  Her voice cracked, underused, and soft:

"I will, Watcher." 

Mae gave her a sincere smile, then closed her eyes and bowed her head for a long moment, allowing Eladea a moment to transform back into the panther she preferred. 

When Maeorra looked up again, the druid was nowhere to be seen.

Eladea resumed her sentry position, in a corner of shadows, invisible. 

Make it out of here...make it out of here...make it out of here...

[glyllena]

Eladea sat stock still on her haunches, Maeorra's communicator hanging heavy around her neck, along with her own.  She had melded herself into the shadows and sat sentry outside of Maeorra's cell.  For hours and hours, she had watched as the Shadows came and went, teary conversations, hesitant questions, and outrage, all featured.  Eladea admired the Ebon's resolve.  And her determination to accept the punishment given to her for the accusations.

The day of the arrest was perhaps even harder.  Eladea had snorted softly and weaved through the legs crowded in headquarters, slinking outside.  She planted her bottom just outside, glaring up at the temple on the Rise.  Lena had asked, so she was going. 

The previous day or two, she heard calls for Maeorra over her communicator, and the resounding silence in response had started to make her nervous.  Where was Mae? 

And then, they knew.  Eladea still wasn't proficient in draeneic, so she only caught a word or two at a time, but the angry, disbelieving edges to the voices outside headquarters belied the situation:  Mae had done what she promised.  She sought out and killed Suraja. 

As always, Eladea would defend her surrogate family to the very end if necessary.  She actually sided with Maeorra's rage in this case - that mindfucking bitch could rot for all Eladea cared.  She had been using another Shadow, Kirahti, as a puppet.  Eladea's jowls curled as she bared her teeth.

The Aldori guard spoke firmly- Maeorra was now imprisoned, her effects being held while she awaited trial and punishment.  When the big draenei man finally retreated from the Shadows' headquarters, Lena leaned down to whisper in Darnassian to Eladea.  "Find her communicator," the mage had said.  "Take it to her." 

Eladea cloaked herself, becoming invisible, and made her way slowly up the long ramp, the endless stairs to that temple of Light.  She was to get in, find the Ebon's communicator, smuggle it out of the temple and to the prison. 

And here she sat.  In a corner nearby the cell in the Telaar prison, Maeorra's quarters next to Halaani Blood Knights.  She hated seeing the Watcher like this, and so calm about it.  But that calmness soothed Eladea's panic, made her more accepting of what might happen.

For hours, she had neither moved or made a noise.  Her breaths came, long and shallow, through her upturned nose, keeping her head high, full of pride and respect for the woman who led the Shadows. 

Shadows came and went, offering support, asking about the Ebon's conditions of imprisonment, wondering if she had actually done such a thing.  Eladea sat quietly, even her tail still, tucked into her corner and starting dutifully at the Watcher.  Even Arloth had been summoned from his leave.  Eladea's eyebrows twitched as she watched the Marshal approach the cell, gruffly commending the work of Maeorra's sword.

"Was it worth it?" The Marshal grumbled. 

Eladea almost strained forward, trying to peer around the broad draenei's back to see Mae's response, which she couldn't hear.

The Marshal nodded at whatever was said, slamming a plated hand on the bars of the cell, "You best make it out of here.  Understand?"

Long after he left, Eladea sat, staring at Maeorra through the bars of the cell, repeating the phrase silently to herself, and to the Watcher.

"Make it out of here...Make it out of here...Make it out of here..."

[glyllena]

Fascinated

(Forgive me for sucking at nelves.  Go goat or go home.  Draenei druids 2014!)

"She is fascinated by you, Watcher," Lena said, smiling as she set down her book.  "That's why she follows you around like that."  "Yes, but it's strange and she is odd.  Why is she never in her natural form?"  Maeorra rubbed her temples and frowned at the memory of Eladea, the strange little Kaldorei druid, leaving small dead rodents at her hooves.   "Ah - but," Lena held up her index finger, chiding, "I do rather think that her feline form IS her natural form." "It's still weird."  Mae said this bluntly, reaching for her hookah. Eladea had crept into the shadows, melding with them in her panther form, listening to the Archons speak about her.  Her ears pricked forward, she planted herself just outside the main office area of headquarters, where Lena and Maeorra were working, and listened.  At Lena's words, the druid seemed to nod emphatically, for she did rather favor the Watcher.  Mae's no-nonsense attitude and skill on the battlefield were something admirable to Eladea, but more interesting was her story. Ela knew little about the death knight's past, but death knights in general fascinated her, it was true.  As a druid, working with nature came to her as easy as breathing, and healing that which was broken gave her a certain amount of joy.  She loved sitting with old treestumps, laying a hand and watching small vines overtake what was dead, bringing new life, blooming before her eyes as she drew from the earth the power of life. But death knights... they were a different story.  She was sheltered, largely, from the Lich King's reign, and no matter how many times she was told the tale, never quite comprehended or believed how death knights came to be.  She watched these ... creatures ... that were once her own people return to their homes with varied results - mostly horror and disgust - and her heart broke for them.  Eladea, in many ways, was innocence defined. What hurt the most was that she was unable to fix them.  After the Lich King enslaved them, their bodies were no longer their own, and Eladea could - moreso than the Light-healers - restore an injured death knight to post-Arthas "glory" - but she could not restore them further, make them whole, make them what they once were.  Make them alive. With the Shadows, Eladea had made an interesting life for herself, as a tracker and informant as well as a healer, surrounded by the oddballs that comprised the order.  She looked up to, with a childlike adoration, the Archons, though her favorite by a long shot was Maeorra. 

For reasons she herself couldn't explain, Eladea would often bring Mae small tokens of affection, dropping small rodents at the Watcher's hooves like an offering.  If the dead can't be restored, Eladea rationalized, perhaps they like everything around them that way.

Jolted back to the present by the Archons' voices, Eladea flattened her ears against her head as she heard Maeorra's words. "Why is she so fascinated, anyway? And why is she always creeping around looking like a panther?" Eladea crouched to the floor, skittering backwards as quietly as she could, blinking fast and unable to hear Lena's reply.   Setting herself in a corner, sentry-like, she composed herself.  She was more comfortable in her panther form.  It was easier to escape into nature that way, easier to meld into the shadows and sneak around, easier to gather information as she crept, unnoticed.  It made her work for Shadows much easier, for one.

More importantly, it felt right.

Eladea loved to run, and when she was transformed into a panther, nothing, it felt, would catch her.  When she was young, she would dash from Darnassus to the far edges of Teldrassil, leaping over sticks and pausing only for a moment to roll in a patch of flowers before moving on.  She felt graceful, agile, young, giddy, and fast.

In Kaldorei form, she felt awkward and strange, having to stand straight and tall to appear bigger than she actually was, to command attention.  She hated it.  Her fingers would constantly fiddle with her bright blue braid, and she would fidget and bounce, wishing she could turn and run away.  Speaking was a hurdle, as well.  She didn't have any confidence, and her voice sounded weak and small in her own ears, making her cringe into herself.  So she simply didn't speak unless absolutely imperative.

Lifting a paw and rubbing it at her face, the druid took a deep, silent breath, slinking into the main room of headquarters, along the wall.  She spotted Lena sitting at the table, once again reading her book, and Mae draped on the couch with her hookah.  Silently, Ela brought herself out of the shadowed corners, moving silently under the table and resting her head on Lena's knee.  She could almost feel the mage's smile as a hand softly greeted her head, rubbing gently at the fur.  Ela closed her eyes and let out a quiet, pleased, rumbling, settling at Lena's hooves, her side pressed against the Archon's legs, peering shyly from under the table at Maeorra.

"You're weird, Eladea."  Mae puffed at the hookah and looked at the druid, "But considering the rest of us, it's probably not that bad in the long run."