The Warchief and the Blacksmith
Hi. Okay. I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for a few days and I wanted to share. I’ll get to requests ASAP, but I’ve hit a major block with them. I promise that I’m still trying
Sylvanas Windrunner x Elithe Roseflame ((My OC)):
It had been almost a year since Sylvanas sent Elithe to Suramar. The high elf had wanted her to encourage an alliance with them, to try and bring them to the Horde. Elithe did not deny her love’s wish. In a way, she did have a small advantage over the other races. As a blood elf, she understood the addiction of the Shal’dorei better than most others. She also had the advantage of having Sylvanas’ trust to get things done.
Now, she had returned to her home in Undercity, the one place that most living beings did not wish to go. The stench of rotting flesh, courtesy of the ever-wandering Grotesque and slowly decomposing Forsaken, and sewage could be found long before even entering the ruins. For Elithe, none of this bothered her anymore. Her sense of smell had adjusted a long time ago.
As she walked, several Forsaken stopped to salute her, while others gave her brief greetings. Although never spoken aloud, they all knew she belonged to the Dark Lady and respected her for it. They trusted their queen. Even a few Dark Rangers gave nods of acknowledgment. It helped that she has been a Champion of the Horde for a very long time.
Elithe approached the room she knew Sylvanas to be in but stopped in the doorway. She saw her love speaking quietly to her champion, Nathanos Blightcaller. Just seeing the man caused Elithe’s stomach to twist into knots. His arrogant aura always managed to infuriate her. His crimson eyes flickered past Sylvanas and on to her, a malicious smile spreading across his face. Elithe narrowed her eyes at him. If there was anything to be known about Nathanos, it was that he hates everyone he believes to be too close to Sylvanas. As the queen’s beloved, she was number one on his hate list.
Sylvanas turned her head to see what Nathanos was staring at. Upon seeing who it was, the queen rolled her eyes. She then turned back to Nathanos, saying something else that Elithe couldn’t make out. He nodded and walked past his leader. His eyes connected with Elithe’s as he got closer.
“Jealous, woman?” He sneered, continuing passed her
The elf stood straight, still shorter than him by a foot, and her snowy eyes darkened. He knew exactly how to get underneath her skin. Within a moment, Elithe had a firm grip on his arm and pulled him back to face her. Rage filled her body as she dug her nails into his skin. Intimidation doesn’t work on Nathanos, it never has, but that wasn’t the point of her actions. She refuses to let him think she won’t stand up for herself.
“Jealousy is bred from insecurity, Nathanos.” She hissed, “Though, I am sure you already knew that. Why else would you continuously attack me verbally?”
He stopped himself. The man looked between the short elf and his master. He knew that Sylvanas would be livid if he insulted her, even more so if he allowed himself to strike the elf, but he also wanted to put Elithe into her place. The two stared at one another, neither backing down but neither initiating a fight. Finally, they were snapped back into reality.
“Nathanos!” Sylvanas’ voice rang clear, “I asked you to leave. I would like some time with my partner.”
He sighed deeply, wrenching his arm from Elithe’s grasp and stormed away. The elf watched him until he turned the corner completely. She strode over to her girlfriend. A large smile played on her lips as she saw the agitated expression on Sylvanas’ face.
“Why must you pick fights with my champion?” The Queen asked
Elithe sighed, “Every time he opens his mouth, he tries to degrade me and I suddenly feel the strong urge to slit his throat.”
Sylvanas shook her head but smirked, not actually upset with the other woman. The warchief looked her girlfriend up and down, taking in the sight she hasn’t seen for such a long time. Elithe was small for an elf, the top of her head barely reaching Sylvanas’ chin. Her ruby red hair had grown a lot, down to the girl’s chest, with her bangs falling even more in front of her face. She had grown much paler due to the lack of sunlight.
Elithe slid a backpack off her shoulders and turned around to search through it. Sylvanas made a mental note of how her love’s body has become more willowy during her time away. Odd how much had changed.
“I made something for you.” Elithe announced, still searching through her bag
The older elf hummed in question. They have been together long enough to no longer be surprised whenever the redhead created something for her. Elithe was a highly skilled blacksmith. She had helped Sylvanas with repairs to her outfit on more than one occasion. If asked why she learned the trade, her answer is always: warrior needs to know how to fix their own supplies.
The redhead found what she was looking for. Pulling out a cloth, she stood back up to face her girlfriend and held out the folded cloth. Sylvanas tilted her head and took the gift from her. Unfolding the cloth, two earrings were exposed. They were long, to be placed on the tip of the ears of an elf. They were silver, with a long silver chain that extended from the tip to the base and amethyst gems along the bottom. Sylvanas looked at her curiously.
“Some women in Suramar wear these,” She explained shyly, “and I thought they would look beautiful on you.”
The warchief nodded and continued to examine them. They were indeed very beautiful. They were also nothing like what she had seen Elithe create before. Usually, she only makes armor. She also made claymores or battle axes if she really felt like it. Jewelry? Not so much.
“You said you made these?” Sylvanas didn’t want to seem suspicious, but it was habit at this point
“It took a good while to understand how to do it. Luckily, the Shal’dorei showing me had a lot of patience. I made the main part,” She pointed to, then trailed her finger down the length, “as well as these chains. The gems came from a jeweler in… in Silvermoon.”
That part truly surprised Sylvanas. Silvermoon? Elithe has always avoided their home city like the plague itself. Too much had been lost. Too much blood had been spilled. She watched as Elithe visibly saddened at the mention of the city. She reached out and gently moved Elithe’s bangs from over her eye. The girl’s pale eyes refused to meet hers.
“You went to Silvermoon?”
Elithe tried to keep her voice from shaking, “I did not stay for very long.”
It hurt too much to talk about, even fifteen years afterward. Sylvanas wanted to ask if she was okay, but already knew the answer to the question. No, she wasn’t okay. She couldn’t be with all of the horrible memories from the Third War kept flooding back into her mind. So, Sylvanas instead pulled Elithe close and wrapped her arms around her.
Normally, Sylvanas was not one to initiate physical affection. She didn’t neglect her partner in any way, of course, but she had long lost the part of her that desired it so much. Now, she could no longer tell when it was good to hug her love or when it wasn’t okay. However, seeing Elithe almost in tears made some old impulses return.
Sylvanas kissed the top of her head when she heard the girl’s soft sniffling. It was ironic, really, how she turned out to love someone this much. Even she did not believe it for the longest time… But there she was, comforting a girl who she wouldn’t hesitate to kill for. A girl who Sylvanas wouldn’t - no, couldn’t - even ask to die and become Forsaken the way she did with her sister, Vereesa. Elithe was more special to her than anything else on Azeroth.
“I am proud of you, Dalah’surfal.” She murmured into the woman’s hair, “Thank you for your gift.”