She began this skeptical, questioning her Dark Lady’s judgement, but still... hopeful. Perhaps Sylvanas was right. The Alliance had already struck once without provocation, what was to stop them from doing so with Azerite? Lynnetta accepted her warchief’s call to arms, though she had come to believe that there was still a chance to settle things peacefully.
(And killing Malfurian was NOT something that she would go through with, but she could find a way around this in time. Better to cross that bridge when she came to it.)
But... things quickly took a turn for the worst. It was one thing to invade a town for strategic purposes. But did they really NEED to take Astranaar by poison? Even she, a rogue herself, questioned this. It was all she could to do keep from slitting Lorash’s throat when he spilled the blood of civilians as well as sentinels. Of course, even he had to back down when the Shadowblade ordered him to focus on only soldiers.
But there was only so much that one soldier of the Horde can to to try and evacuate the innocent before the rest of the army arrived. She sent Lorash on ahead to inform the warchief that it was time to assault the town in full force, and used the precious time left get out the rest of the citizens who had not managed to flee yet. It was then that her friend Netsy arrived, sent by the Alliance to scout ahead and investigate.
As you can imagine, the meeting was... tense. The two women may have been friends, but both were first and foremost members of their own, opposite factions. However, Lynnetta was able to warn the worgen that Sylvanas had plans to kill Malfurian, before sending her away as the rest of the army arrived.
Lynnetta rejoined her warchief as the first clash with Malfurian was coming to a peak, and was thankful when he evaded her wrath, though was unable to express this. She was still following her leader’s orders, yes, but with more doubt in her heart than ever before. She knew that the wall of wisps would not stop the Dark Lady. There was more yet to come.
The two returned to Zoram’gar to plan the next move. Here, Lynnetta was joined by several other of her guildmates. Viel, Eshrose, Nicage, and Freckle were there to aid in the assault on the world tree. Vain was notably absent, and had been ever since things had become more heated between the two factions.
Feelings in the group were... mixed.
Viel was of the same mind as Lynnetta; what they were doing was wrong, but they were stuck between a rock and a hard place. What could they truly do? Sylvanas was on the warpath, and nothing could stop her. And it wasn’t like they could simply stop now. If they were to abandon the fight, it would be treason. Let alone if they were to try and warn the enemy of their warchief’s plans.
Eshrose, while she agreed with the leader and vice-leader, was far more concerned about Netsy. The two hadn’t seen one another since the warrior had returned to Stormwind following the defeat of the legion. She worried that her girlfriend would be among the army that opposed them. Lynnetta hesitated, but told her of her own meeting with the worgen, which caused Eshrose to leave, going out to search for her.
Freckle remained more neutral, pointing out that they were at war, and had been for years now. Why was this any worse than some of the other battles they had fought against the Alliance? None of their hands were clean of blood, after all. She would come to change her mind, of course, in the coming battles in Darkshore, but for the moment, tried to remain the voice of reason.
Nicage, as always, was hungry for what was coming. Ever at odds with the rest, he accused his friends of treasonous thoughts, and relished in the opportunity to wage war, at last, against the alliance. As an argument broke out, he and Lynnetta came to blows, and were only separated by Viel, who, with the power of the Light, split up the two undead before they could do any real damage.
Nicage announced that he was leaving the guild, and went to join the rest of the Horde in battle.
Back in the remains of Astranaar, Netsy returned with a portion of the Alliance army. The Horde had already cleared out, leaving behind death and destruction in their wake. She struggled to come to terms with what they had done. She knew that not all in the Horde supported this, but it was still alarming to entertain the thought that some of her friends might.
After clearing out a few lingering assassins in the town (none of them, thankfully, anyone she knew) Netsy returned to Darnassus, unaware that Eshrose had gone out looking for her.
Back on Darkshore, Lynnetta and the remaining guild members marched with the Horde army, following orders for the time being. All hope for peace was quickly dwindling as they aided in the battle against the night elves, though the three women were relieved that they seemed to be at a stalemate, for the time being. Surely, this wouldn’t last for long.
Soon Saurfang would return with the rest of their forces, and by then... it would be too late. In end end, the three had to hold out hope that Eshrose would find Netsy, and be able to get out a warning so that Lor’danel could be evacuated before the army reached it.
(( This is... literally the first thing I’ve written in ages but to hell with it, if it’ll help get me back in the swing of things. I’m stupidly self-conscious but this is part of the reason why I made the blog, SO...))
Viel has just stepped out of the portal from Netherlight Temple when she was immediately accosted by a tall, blonde blood elf male, whose wild eyes and frantic behavior immediately tipped her off that there was something wrong with her dear brother.
“Vain? By the Light, what-”
He did not let her finish. Vain, her younger brother by a few years, put a finger to his lips and shushed her, taking her by the hand and pulling her along out of the building. Tugging her down the steps, despite her protests and questions, he did not answer, and it wasn’t until she ripped her hand from his grasp and planted her feet that he stopped and turned, his beautiful face wracked with worry. And what else was that? Grief? So rarely did she see him doing anything other than flashing charming smiles, it was a shock to see him actually, genuinely upset over something.
She had to know something about what was going on, though. “Vain, what in the world is going on, you can’t just grab me like that. I was running an errand for Archbishop Faol.” They simply needed some more supplies, but still, she took her job seriously, and would hate to keep her mentor waiting. But the way her brother was looking at her now gave her pause, and she folded her arms, waiting.
Vain shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and waited to speak until a group of paladins had walked past them, heading for the portal to the Sanctum of Light. Even then, after they had passed, he leaned in and spoke in a whisper, a hint of desperation and fear in his voice.
“Viel-- Viel, I think I’ve been cursed.”
There was a long pause. The siblings stared at one another as the silence passed between them, one with eyes wide, the other looking increasingly skeptical.
She couldn’t tell if he was serious, or if he was just an idiot.
Viel truly wasn’t sure what to make of this. Actually, her first instinct was to believe that her brother had taken too much bloodthistle, but he didn’t seem to be exhibiting any of the usual signs. Her brother wasn’t high, which normally would be a good thing. Now… coupled with this revelation of his, she was troubled.
It took a moment of deliberation before she pulled her hearthstone from a pouch at her belt, and motioned for her brother to do the same. “Come, then, we’ll speak privately, back at the guild. But I swear, if this is a joke--”
“It’s not! Please, I’ll explain everything once we’re home.” The relief in his voice was clear, and she felt guilty for a moment for doubting him. She took his hand now as they hearthed back to the town they called home in Silverpine Forest, the best place for them to have a completely private conversation.
The town itself wasn’t all that impressive. It was a collection of fixed up homes and an old inn, long ago abandoned by its original civilians when the Scourge passed through the area, and the plague made the land near uninhabitable. The original five members of their group had cleared the area of undead and plague, and erected a barrier around the town to keep any unwanted guests out. Now, every member had a rune tattooed to one of their fingers that allowed them access past the barrier, and most if not all of them had their hearthstones set to the inn.
Now, the group had expanded, and the five were now three times that in number. Not every member of The Hands lived in their quiet village, but there were always a few people present on any particular day.
Today, as Viel and Vain ported to the grassy lawn in front of the guild hall, they were greeted with the sound of frantic barking, as one of Eshrose’s pets, an undead wolf named Felicity, bound over to them, slobber leaking out of a tear in her cheek. Viel was quick to put a bubble around herself that the beast bounced harmlessly off of, but Vain was not so quick to act, as the wolf turned to him instead. She easily knocked him to the ground as he let out a desperate yelp, trying to shove her away.
Just as she was about to coat his face in undead dog spit, there was a sharp whistle from their left. The beast raised her head, cocking it to the side, and ran off to join her master, who had just saved Vain from an entire afternoon of rigorously cleaning himself. Eshrose waved cheerfully at the two of them, before giving Felicity a fond pat on the head, leading her outside the barrier. It seemed as though she was setting off for a hunt.
Normally, such an encounter with the dead wolf would have left her brother more irate, and there would have been a dramatic show as he went to complain at Eshrose loudly for her pet nearly ruining his whole day. But today he simply got back to his feet, making a disgusted face, and motioned for his sister to follow him to a small building past the inn that served as their guild hall.
The two siblings had a small cottage to themselves, build up from one of the many ruined homes in the town and decorated in the reds and golds of their homeland. They generally came and went as they pleased, not usually living there at the same time, but since neither had any significant others they were usually able to share the space without any issues. Occasionally, Viel might need to kick out her brother and his friend, Hagakure, after an eventful evening of potion brewing and getting high from fumes, but for the most part they lived and worked in harmony.
The cottage had remained empty for the past month or so, as both siblings had been spending all of their time in Dalaran and around the Broken Isles, fighting the Legion threat. Viel silently lamented to herself over the growing dust that she noticed settling around the entry room, as she and Vain slipped inside, shutting the door behind them.
(Perhaps she would see if she could hire a mage to enchant the home, to keep it clean while they were away. That was something they could do, right? She had never studied the arcane, but she didn't remember their old home in Quel’thalas ever having dust anywhere. The entire realm was spotless, something that she found herself missing at times.)
Finally, the first real privacy they had had together. She turned to her younger brother, eyes narrowed, and said just one word.
“Explain.”
Vain stopped by the hearth, turned, and took a deep breath.
The words came tumbling out of him, uncharacteristically fast. “I think someone may have cursed me, or charmed me? Oh, it doesn't matter the specifics, the result is the same. My every waking moments have become consumed by…” He paused, and made a useless gesture, a half shrug directed at nowhere. “By thoughts of one person in particular. It wasn't so terrible at first, but it has been growing, to the point where I find it difficult to focus on missions.”
Viel stared at him silent.
This. Moron.
She was about to speak, when her brother cut her off, apparently not even close to being finished.
“I'm not sure who has done this, I'm sure there are plenty of friends and enemies alike who would love to have me distracted in such a way. That's why I had to speak to you alone, you're the only one I trust not to pull such a trick on me.” He leaned against the mantle above the hearth with a dramatic sigh, putting a hand to his face. “Even now, wracked with worry, I can't stop thinking of him. I fear at this rate, I will fall completely under the spell.”
He wasn't giving her a chance to respond. Oh, she was so mad at this idiot, she should have known. Really, this was on her for humoring him, but he had been so upset, she had thought something was actually wrong! She was just as much an idiot as he was!
“Vain--”
“Of course, I do not want to believe that he had any part in this, he seems so oblivious to my plight. Or is it all an act?”
“Vain.”
“Could the spell be preventing me from implicating him in this? He seems so kind, I cannot believe that he would--”
Finally, she snapped. “VAIN!”
Her brother raised his eyebrows in surprise, momentarily shocked out of his monologue. While he was still stunned, she took her chance, putting her hands on her hips and leaning forward, hissing out her question.
“Who.”
There was a pause.
Her brother responded slowly, still trying to parse what she meant. “I… pardon?”
Oh, this was just ridiculous. “Who, Vain! Who is this person you're obsessed with?”
She watched closely, taking note of the way her brother’s face flushed pink, the way he nervously pushed some of his hair from his face. Every small motion was only confirming her suspicions about what what actually happening here.
He cleared his throat, blush creeping up his ears. “Ah, that would be… Arator.”
Viel’s stomach twisted into a knot, and now it was she who needed a moment to recover from this information. When she spoke again, her voice sounded strained, almost a little panicked.
“Arator Windrunner?”
She didn’t need Vain to answer. His expression and body language said it all. He’d begun wringing his hands, and could no longer meet her gaze. She stared him down anyway, eyes fierce, before her energy seemed to drain from her. She moved from her spot by the door, past Vain and into the kitchen area.
Her brother watched, mouth open slightly in confusion, as she knelt down to produce a bottle of arcwine from a cupboard, gifted to her by the Shal’dorei for helping to care for a new group of refugees fleeing Suramar City. She set it on the counter and, after retrieving a glass from the cabinet, began to pour herself a drink. It took every amount of restraint she had not to drink straight from the damn bottle. But this wasn’t a drink that was easy to come by, so she set aside the bottle and sat down at the table without touching what remained.
“Light save us all.” Was all that she said, before downing the glass far too quickly.
By now, Vain’s steadily growing concern had turned to all out fear, and he hesitantly approached, sitting down across from her.
Viel wasn’t looking at him anymore. She was so, so tired. Emotionally. Physically too, of course, she had been running herself ragged lately, but that didn’t really play much into her mood now. She loved her brother to pieces, but sometimes he was so, so stupid. It was exhausting that she still felt like his babysitter. Or at least, in this case, perhaps his mother?
Vain cleared his throat in an attempt to get her attention again, and even though she didn’t move, he seemed to assume that she was listening, and spoke anyway.
“So… that’s, ah, bad, then. … Do you really think that he’s the one who--”
Suddenly, Viel slammed her hand down on the table, earning a startled yelp from her brother.
“Light damn you, Vain, you have a crush, not a curse!”
If she had been less irritated with the whole situation, Viel probably would have savored her brother’s expressions a little more. He went through a whole range of emotions in a matter of seconds, from confused, to amused, and then, slowly, to dawning horror. All traces of blush had left his face as the blood drained from it instead, and he stared ahead at her with wide, green eyes.
This was something he should have realized sooner. The idea that someone would have to curse him for him to feel anything other than mild attraction was just so beyond belief to her, but she knew her brother and the way he thought. He was only interested in himself. Or, he pretended to be, in an effort to appear more… normal? Put together? Whatever the reason, her brother’s name (or at least the Common meaning of it) described him perfectly.
As he started to scramble for some sort of answer or rebuttal, she propped her head up on one hand, crossing her legs under the table. Still, a Windrunner? Those weren’t exactly a Horde friendly family, save for Sylvanas, but as far as she knew she and her nephew didn’t have any sort of relationship. And here was her poor brother, falling for a goodie-goodie paladin.
But also, poor Arator. She wouldn’t exactly wish her brother’s affection on him. He seemed like a good person, as far as she knew, and Vain was… well. He was himself.
There were a thousand ways this could go wrong. Very few it could actually go right. If anything, just because of Vain’s nature, and his apparent inability to accept that he actually did have a crush on the half-elf boy.
As illustrated by the way he still seemed to be wrestling with this new truth, trying to find a way to deny it. His movements had turned jerky with his nerves, and he gotten up from his seat so he could pace in circles.
“V-Viel, dear, I don’t think that’s it, that’s not… I’m not…” He almost looked a little like he was going to be sick, and he raised his arms up in a shrug, trying to force a smile. Viel would worry for him, if she didn’t know that half of this was his dramatic flair.
But her response was quick and blunt. “You are. Vain, literally everyone except you has known for… for forever.”
If anything, this just made her brother look increasingly distressed. He stopped his pacing, repeatedly running his hands through his hair as though it was actually a mess, fixing it even though it was perfect. It was always perfect. After a minute he stopped, and turned towards her, not meeting her gaze again.
“H-hah, well, thank you for the talk, Viel, I really must… must be getting on to, oh, you know, other things.” He spoke too quickly, motioned towards the opposite side of the house, where his bedroom was. “I trust that you won’t be speaking about this conversion to anyone, anyone ever Viel, please. Please.”
Even as he spoke, he was retreating away from her slinking back to his room. She was sure that he had some bloodthistle tucked away in there somewhere, and that he planned to get high in an attempt to… what, deflect? Ignore the truth? This wasn’t something he could hide from tomorrow. He had missions to run with his fellow paladins, Arator included.
But he was free to do what he wanted. She wasn’t his babysitter, not anymore. And the arcwine was starting to get to her, leaving her more relaxed and in a slightly better mood. So she only waved a hand at him as she left, calling out her goodbye right before he closed himself up in his room.
“Goodnight, stupid. Think on this for a while. And for Light’s sake, if you tell the man how you feel, try not to be weird about it.”
She didn’t know her brother’s reaction. The door was already shutting, with perhaps a little more force than usual.
Viel waited another minute or so, before she sighed heavily and rested her head down on the table. How in the world had it taken this long for her dear, stupid brother to realize how gay he was. Perhaps it was funny (or irritating?) that it took him meeting someone as pretty as he was for it to actually click.
She didn't want to move. Really, she needed to get back to completing those errands for the temple, but it likely wouldn't be wise for her to go. Not to mention that her mood was still a little… well, it wasn't the best. She felt slightly guilty for being so angry at Vain, now that he was actually gone.
A quiet sound from behind her caught her attention, like someone shifting between their feet. Without turning to look, she raised a hand in some sort of half-hearted greeting.
“Lynnetta, I do hope that's you, and not someone else.”
The raspy chuckle that answered her confirmed her suspicion. At some point, the rogue must have slipped in to spy on them. Or maybe she had just always been here, and they hadn't noticed her. No one ever did, unless she wanted them to. Either way, this wasn't an uncommon thing that she did, and if it had been anyone else she would have been angry.
She trusted Lynn, though. She wouldn't tell anyone about what she had overheard here. Viel finally turned in her seat so she could face the undead, who was crouched down in the corner by the door.
Lynnetta raised her head slightly, and then gave her a small wave before she stood to her full height and made her way over to the table, sitting opposite of Viel where Vain had been before.
“Do you think you were maybe a little too harsh with him?” She asked as she steepled her hands together, her expression hidden behind the mask she wore.
Viel made a face and shrugged, running a finger around the rim of the now empty glass sitting in front of her.
“Perhaps. He needed to hear it, though.”
Lynnetta didn't disagree. If anything, judging by the tone of we voice, Viel thought she might actually be smiling behind the mask.
“It's a wonder it took him this long to figure it out.”
Viel snorted, and started to get up so she could grab another glass of arcwine, but the rogue shot her hand out to grab her arm, stopping her. This was for the best, she supposed, as she sat back down with a heavy sigh.
“Oh, I know. And it's a Windrunner he's set his sights on, of all things.” Though perhaps this was a concern she should be keeping to herself. Across from her, Lynnetta tilted her to the side, but didn't offer up a reply. The rogue had her own opinions of the Windrunners, Sylvanas in particular, though Viel found her hard to read on this particular front. She was about to change the subject when her friend surprised her, speaking up finally.
“I think he's a good man. Should I have a chat with him to be sure?” She still sounded somewhat amused, but there was a hint of seriousness behind that. And something that might have been threatening as well. Viel was quick to wave a hand in dismissal.
“No, no, let him sort this out on his own. He’s a big boy, he can handle this.” That might actually be doubtful, but she was going to keep an eye on the situation regardless. “Honestly, I'm not sure he'll even do anything.” Not that she had any frame of reference, since her brother had never actually be interested in anyone except for himself.
Lynnetta drummed her fingers on the table, silent, and finally stood, turning for the door. “Well, then. Sorry to intrude. His distress was… concerning. I wanted to make sure it wasn't a serious problem.”
“Pff. You and me both. I suppose you were right about be being too harsh, I fear I may have overreacted.” Perhaps she would apologize later. Maybe even offer some advice? Light help her, she couldn't even imagine how that might go.
To her surprise, a quick laugh came from behind the rogue’s mask, and she moved silently to the door, pausing in the doorway before she slipped out into the dusk. “Things are always complicated with family. … Try not to drink too much, Viel. You'll make me jealous.”
And before the priest could respond, Lynnetta was gone, the door clicking quietly shut behind her. Leaving Viel still sitting at the table, with head full of thoughts and wine.
Tomorrow would be another day, full of stress and work.
Tonight, though… well. One more glass couldn't hurt.