Day after day, it was the same. By the time the last tavern was stocked, the Courier was a worn out mess. There was little time to connect, to enjoy her job, hardly enough time to enjoy a decent meal. With each new contract came a new distance to travel, a request to be fulfilled, and she began to see that she was not so equipped to handle an expanding business. Worst of all, Safrona had little to show for her effort. Remaining independent was expensive, as was the Ethereal’s services: portals, void storage, networking where she could not, and otherwise, Saraj was an investment in himself. It was a wonder that she could afford the rental in the Ledgermaine Lounge when all was said and done.
As important a base as Dalaran had become in planning out her trade routes between continents, the Kirin Tor still refused to contract her for business outside of the city walls. The blood elf still had a ways to go in securing the trust of that kind of official trade again however far she had come. It was all almost enough to have her consider less than reputable contracts. There were black markets nearby, lucrative networks where most eyes dared not to look. Where rats could be called kings…
“Feh…the hell,” Safrona clicked her teeth together at the train of thought. She tore at her braid then, unravelling it a little painfully, punishing herself for letting her thoughts go down such a road. “Not that damned desperate, courier…”
Inevitably, she circled the idea in her mind of appealing to Baron Bloodbrew for another loan, and sighed at herself in disappointment. She was supposed to be helping support the winery, not bleed it dry with her incompetence! Safrona shot a glance at the floor mirror, hand poised over the familiar bottle of red. She resembled the Baroness, yet as the last chosen of their line, she began to wonder if she ever would have a right to carry their name.
Exhaling softly, the Courier sunk into an empty, cushioned chair, and let the wine pour to wash over an already dulled mind. Another tired, lonely night. Only, a few drinks in, and Safrona was not as alone as she thought…
“You should let me take care of you.” The soft tenor of a voice came with a pale, tender hand to rest on her own, comforting as it had always been in time’s past. She laughed coarsely, brushing the hand away. “...I’m too drunk for this…” There was a pain there that softened her watery voice, as if she knew the offer was a lie, but one she wanted to believe. Beneath the worn veil of the Courier, there was a soul that wanted to stop being strong for a moment and be cared for, doted on. It was a confession her lips could not speak, however soft her eyes grew with the yearning. Foolish thoughts of a life that no longer was, made soft in her heart. The wine was really getting to her now.
“Mmf...leave me alone with the bottle. Is more real than you are...” The laughed words were wearisome as she dragged herself away from the table, taking the least empty of the bottles with her as she plodded her way toward the balcony. The silk-sheen curtains felt good, brushing against her skin as she moved past to greet the pale evening of Dalaran, the ever-violet skies.
“Is the bottle all you really need, my Lady?” The question came with the sudden grasp of the hand, this time as different as the voice. The gentle tenor had shifted to a throaty rumble of words, the touch of a bold gentleman. The elf blinked slowly as the strong hand curled around her fingers, the shadows of the room behind him seeming to shift along his skin in patterns. “Tell me of all your needs.” His breath was warm as it met her hand, his beard tickling the inside of her palm as he kissed. A subtle seduction.
Yet, she closed her eyes against the sight, drawing away, mumbling dismissively. “...tch, not even supposed to be here. Go...Go home…stop it...” Instead, she felt the strength of a broad chest press gently behind her as she turned back to the skies, arms close around the small of her waist to bring her closer to his presence. It brought her to a small, relenting silence, finding comfort in the way he ran his fingers up her arm, brushed the hair away from her shoulders, neck.
“I’ll be everything you want, Whiskey, when you want it.” The voice had changed again in familiarity, touching too closely on her heart now.
But it was not him, and no amount of wine could make it true. Somewhere in her drunken mind, Safrona grasped to the fact that she was being toyed with. The elf shoved away, splashing her goblet of wine in her ‘suitor’s’ face. The human made a distinctly female gasp, and Safrona found the laugh bubbling out of her unavoidable.
“Mistress…” the glamour melted away from the succubus with a flutter of leathery wings. The demon echoed Safrona’s laugh with her own silken poison, seductively running a hand along her wine-stained skin to lick the taste from her talons. “That is a waste of good wine, my love.”
“You never know...when to quit, do you, mm?” Safrona shot the demon a glare, sweeping past the succubus, tossing the bottle from her fingers in the direction of the table. The wine bottle missed its intended target, splashing its contents along the carpet as it rolled. The courier rarely lost her taste for wine, but the demon easily made it so. “Years, and years, and you still try to bait me to your lil...game. You looking for new ways to die?” The blood elf snorted derisively. “...could serve me well to practice.”
Elernia paced forward, her red mouth a disappointed pout. “You know I only ever want to serve. That has always been my intention. To make you happy. ” She bent downward to catch the warlock’s gaze as it snapped away. “How long has it been since you have? All the people, the nations you have put your faith and love in, and in the end I am all that is left, every minute, of every hour, of every day to meet your need.” That red grin turned salaciously wicked with the truth. “All you have to realize, sweetling, is that a demon is all you ever needed. Our very lives revolve around your command, if you will it. You know in your lonely, tired little heart that I am yours.”
Safrona sighed as the taloned fingers combed through her hair, the anger and insult slipping away. The blood elf was too tired to bother, to argue, and with a sigh she brought herself to her waiting bed, sprawling out over it. The demon’s grin widened, for she knew she had won.
“Elernia…” the courier spoke softly, almost fondly, luring the demoness in with the sweet call.
“Yes, my love?” Cloven feet sounded at the mistress’ bedside, the succubus leering.
“I want...I need….” The elf sighed as she traced a fingertip down the end of an extended wing as Elernia offered it. “I need you to deliver for me tomorrow...” A slow smile tugged at the warlock’s lips.
The succubus twitched, wing twitching back from the courier’s touch, as if her words had struck. “Whaaaaat?”
“I’m tiiiired. I need a bit of a vacation. Some time to myself. Didn’t you say you’d serve my needs? Weeeeelll. That is what I need....”
“I’m a succubus. I seduce. I torment. I can lure a soul to your door for the taking, even!” Elernia grimaced. “I don’t deliver packages, precious.”
“You will! Because....I command that you do. Annnnd because you love me, of course.” The elf’s fingers feathered in the air. “Just....do the glamouring as you know you like to. Be me, be another, even. Say I hired you, haha. Follow the lists, the proper trade routes, make people happy. You’re a smart one. And you have the stamina that this little elflette doesn’t...”
Elernia reconsidered this new ‘position’. “You are...giving me freedom to travel from your side through the Nether, Mistress? To...do business with your clients? And you allow me my own form?”
“Mmmn-hmm. And...mark a few places for easy travel. Going to have to learn some recall glyphs... business is convenience….haha maybe we’ll get an army of imps in on it, mm?” The elf spoke so dreamily, starting her journey into sleep. “Have to do a...little research…”
The succubus grinned wickedly as the potential of the situation occurred to her. Finally, the mistress was seeing things her way. A warlock could not stop being a warlock forever. “I think I will be delighted to serve you, Mistress.”
Yet, the blood elf was staring on the demon intently. “All the same, remember...your place. Elernia...if you ruin my business or my image…” the soft smile was unnerving as Safrona’s saccharine tone drifted from her, “...death would be too kind for you, as always…”
“...y...of course, my mistress…” Even demons had souls to torment, and her warlock was skilled in all the ways they could.
{ With some subtle reference to @hmratking, @niklosadamant, @bloodbrew @viktoraraelson, @renwyck }