Rheastrasza and the Red Flight: the massive hypocrites.
TW: MENTIONINGS OF SA
I'm flittering about in classic with my fiance. This is my first time ever truly experiencing it but I know enough of the lore to be excited about it. The one place we worked to get to specifically was in the area where you help Rhea.
LORD ALMIGHTY was her dialogue/quest text worse than I remembered it. I had to take a break midway through because I broke down crying. She has you go take Nyxondras eggs RIGHT FROM UNDER HER and I just wept as she tried to fight back, but "collapsed in exhaustion." (actual text that pops up in the chat log) every time...
Rhea herself admits to "encouraging her to lay eggs." that's a really disgustingly soft way of admitting to raping another dragon. She mentions wanting to "learn how they reproduce"... like bitch?? THEY ARE LITTERALY THE SAME AS YOU. They breed the same as you.
And she DARES say that what she's doing might be cruel, yet what the CORRUPTED black flight did to them was worse? LIKE NO: YOU CANNOT, IN ANY GOOD FAITH, BIND AN AFFLICTED KIN, HAVE HER RAPED REPEATEDLY, KIDNAP HER EGGS EVERY TIME, AND EXPERIMENT ON INNOCENT UNHATCHED CHILDREN AND SAY THAT THEY DID WORSE... and even worse still: Claim "benevolence" in their flight. And every npc you work with that knows the Red Flight all praise them too...
So I go forth into Dragonflight again and my blood boils at every word Alexstrasza speaks. She knew what happened to Wrathion. She knew, and does not care. If anything; it is a weapon against him to keep him in his place as THAT is what she cares most about. Not "All life" as she claims. They're a flight that favors the idea of "the end justifies the means" rather than actual honor and dignity. Ya know; the same shit they and SO MANY PEOPLE hate Wrathion for?
Fuck the Red Flight. GOD THIS SHIT MAKES ME SO FUCKING ANGRY WHAT THEY DID TO WRATHION. THE RED FLIGHT AND BLIZZARD.
Folks i apologize for my repeated ranting about this. But this is like.. one of the ONLY places I can. If i must become a rabid Black Flight fanatic, I shall happily.
Ykw, I have a free will so imma just post my silly self-infulgent wow oc comic sketches ✋😔
This is my human mage Fila, Deathwing burned half of her face, so she’s afraid of dragons now. So ofc Rheastrasza makes her help steal dragon eggs and tamper with them :}
This is just a silly AU where Fila looks after unhatched Wrathion after the quest. She’s doubtful about Wrathion being different from the rest of his flight, but she’s willing to give him a chance.
So I finally got around to playing the Badlands storyline for myself. I went into this thinking "oh, maybe I'm reading way too much into the quest text, maybe when I play it myself, I'll see why everyone tends to find Rhea the sympathetic one in the story here."
I'm here to report that, uh, no, when I was the one actually taking eggs from the imprisoned mother and then murdering both her and her children in game, I found it just as impactful. Maybe a little more. We do some really despicable things for "the greater good" here.
The black dragon body count racked up by you, the player character, in this questline is thirty-six: 12 darklight soldiers, 22 whelps, Velarok, and Nyxondra. Alliance characters get a trio of enthusiastic dwarf sidekicks to help us with some of this.
The saddest part about playing this, for me, was realizing that when Rhea sends you after the escaped Nyxondra, you find her circling above her brood. So her first act of freedom was to go to the surviving experiments to try and protect them. You then kill 12 for the quest.
Another sad thing is her one line of dialogue, which is also the last thing she ever says: "My kin won't forget what you've done! We will rage, mortals!"
Have her kin actually forgotten? We don't know, because so far, none of the black dragonflight have brought this up.
(There are these lines from the recent "Misfit Dragon" quest line with Wrathion and Vyranoth in patch 10.2, though, which I still love. It's a stretch, but it could be a nod to a lot of Badlands story things, including this, so there's that at least.)
All of this is on top of the suffering endured by Nyxondra "off-screen" as Rhea forced her to lay eggs while she was an invisible prisoner trapped within eyeshot of her unaware kin ("right in the middle of their breeding grounds"). It's unknown for how long.
One last interesting thing that stood out to me was that Rhea refers to herself "an envoy of Alexstrasza herself", so I think it's not a question of "if" Alex knew about this but "how much" did she know.
There's also a very dark joke about draconic diplomacy somewhere in here
The part of the quest that I think is really most affecting is when Rhea seems to have an epiphany and realize the extent of the pain that she's caused, but then she immediately doubles down on the excuse that Nyxondra's sacrifice "was necessary." Nyxondra, of course, seems to disagree strongly. Her free will has been taken from her by Rhea, she has no agency in this situation.
After this, Rhea sends a Champion out to "put her out of her misery," like she's a wounded animal. It's barbaric.
Then there's this line: "The Red Dragonflight is as benevolent as it is powerful." This is the final bit of salt in the wound. The Red Dragonflight was anything but benevolent in this quest. I think the only way you could come to that conclusion is if you see the corrupted black dragons as not only past the point of saying, but as lesser beings who are disposable, whose pain is some kind of comeuppance for having succumbed to the Old Gods.
It's another case in World of Warcraft of corruption being associated with moral "badness" by the narrative. The narrative in this game constantly implies that the dragons who succumb to corruption do so because they have some kind of moral failing or moral weakness. The narrative tells us that black dragons "deserve" not just to be killed but be made to suffer for their madness and for the actions they took while under the Old Gods' influence.
Rhea even says this somewhat explicitly: Nyxondra supposedly deserves what Rhea is doing to her because of what her flight did to Alexstrasza. Her suffering isn't just the consequence of cold science being done to save the future of the black dragonflight, it's deliberately retributive.
I'm not really going anywhere with this, just kind of wanted to talk again about how (intentionally or not) Wrathion's origin story is dark as hell.
As a player of both Fire Emblem and WoW... what is it with dragons named Rhea and putting others through morally-questionable procedures "for the greater good"?
Fire Emblem's Rhea put her mother's soulstone into a literal newborn baby in an attempt to resurrect her. It was... partially successful.
WoW's Rhea forced the black dragon Nyxondra to lay eggs so that she might be able to purify one. As a result, we have Wrathion.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: World of Warcraft
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Characters: Wrathion (Warcraft), Sabellian (Warcraft), Ebyssian | Ebonhorn, Nyxondra (Warcraft), Rheastrasza (Warcraft)
Additional Tags: Grief/Mourning, Nyxondra/Rheastrasza (mentioned), Black Dragonflight
Summary:
Before the corruption, Nyxondra was impetuous and headstrong. Sabellian knows without a shadow of a doubt, she would have loved her son. She and her mate both.
This story fell out of my brain quite suddenly, because my muse is a strange, fickle thing. It’s unapologetically fluffy, sappy, romantic, goofy, and silly. As the founder, namer, and only member of this crack ship, it’s my prerogative to indulge in occasional fluff.
Besides, my other story about them ends on a depressing note and I haven’t had the inspiration to finish the sequel that fixes that. *side eyes her muse for giving her this instead*
Rhea decides that since she and Nefarian have to hide their affair from other dragons, they should pretend to be eloping humans and have a wedding so they finally have the chance to stand up and declare their love. Nefarian thinks it’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard, until he realizes how much it means to her...
This is a side story that would take place somewhere early in chapter 2.5 of my fanfiction “By Any Other Name.”
If you haven’t read that story, here’s a brief recap: Rheastrasza and Nefarian (a.k.a. Romathion, my headcanon for his pre-corruption name) have been secretly carrying on a love affair since before the Sundering. They have to keep it hidden because mating with a member of a different dragonflight is taboo (according to Night of the Dragon). Such pairings rarely produce offspring, but the inert eggs Rhea lays are the foundation for the chromatic dragonflight, as she and her beloved try to create a perfect dragon without any of the flaws and arbitrary divisions imposed on them by the Titans.
Rhea shapeshifts into either a goblin or a human depending on the situation, and occasionally leaves Blackrock to visit the rest of the red dragonflight in order to keep them from suspecting anything.
[Content warnings: Fluffy romantic schmaltz. Innuendo, sexual themes, pillow talk, and implied hetero sex. Mentions of mental illness, arguments with parents, arson and fires. Mentions of death and the afterlife. My headcanons about the draconic afterlife apply. Oh, and a few bad puns. Don’t take any of this too seriously. It’s just goofy fun.]
Rheastrasza had just returned to Blackrock Mountain from one of her visits to the Vermilion Redoubt the previous evening. She spent the night in Nefarian's bed, and most of the following day had been spent getting her up to date on the latest developments with the chromatic dragonflight.
Now they stood together on the balcony overlooking the Burning Steppes, watching the sunset in their human forms. The ashy wastes had turned a mellow pink hue in the fading light.
"Maybe that's a good omen," Rhea said with an impish smile. "Pink for the chromatics."
Nefarian snorted skeptically. "They could use a good omen, but I'm not holding my breath."
She wound her arm around his and leaned against his side. "I know the latest brood was disappointing, without any bronze or green powers, but we can revert the changes for the next generation and try something else."
Her optimism--and proximity--brought a reluctant smile onto his face.
They watched the sunset in pleasant silence for another few minutes.
Then Rhea spoke in a tone that was obviously meant to be casual and spontaneous, but was just as obviously something she'd been waiting for the right moment to bring up. "I was in Lakeshire a few days ago."
"Oh? I trust they're all quaking in fear of me."
"I did overhear someone saying they didn't want to patch the holes in their roof in case a black dragon happened to fly by and see them as an easy snack."
Nefarian chuckled. "Good. I know Darkblaze does a fine job of reminding the mortals of their place, but once in awhile I do enjoy making a pass over Lakeshire just to see them scurry in terror from my shadow."
Rhea made gentle scolding noise, but smiled. "Anyway, I happened to be there at the right time to witness a human wedding ceremony. It was fascinating, and so romantic!"
"Ah yes, humans, with their grand promises to have only one mate forever. I've heard how often that works out."
Rhea frowned. "It works out quite often, actually. They're not dragons. They live such short lives, and I think it's really sweet to pledge devotion to one's mate like that. To be able to stand in front of your community and family and declare for everyone to hear that you love each other so deeply..." She let her voice trail off and tightened her hold on his arm.
"Rhea," he said with a disapproving sigh.
"I know. We don't have that luxury. I just... I get tired of hiding. I love you so much, and not even our children can know about it." She meant the chromatics, who--except for Nith, the very first of their kind--were kept in the dark about the true origins of their eggs.
Nefarian turned to face her and brushed a curl of bright red hair off her cheek as he leaned in to kiss her. "I know, Rhea. I hate it, too. But if my father knew, he would kill you. If the rest of dragonkind knew, we'd be shunned. Disgraced and disowned."
"All I want is you," she whispered. "All I've ever wanted is you."
"You say that, but what if you were no longer welcome with your own flight? With any other dragons, anywhere? What if something happens to me and you're left without anyone?" He shook his head slowly, gazing deep into her emerald eyes as he stroked her cheek. "I can't do that to you."
She lowered her eyes in defeat and stepped into an embrace. "You're right. I just can't help wishing."
He buried his face in her hair and rubbed her back. "I know. I do, too."
They stood locked in each other's arms, swaying slowly together, until the sun had disappeared under the western horizon.
"Romy?"
"Hmm?"
She drew back and put her hands on his shoulders, a serious expression on her face. "Let's get married. As humans."
He blinked twice, mistrusting his ears. "What?"
"We could go to Lakeshire, find a priest, and declare our love for each other openly, without shame."
He made a sour face and opened his mouth to reply, but she didn't let him get a word in edgewise.
"Just think, Romy! No one would know! No dragons, I mean. But it would give us a chance to be normal, for once!"
"Normal?" he scoffed. "Dragons pretending to be humans to participate in some silly mortal custom isn't normal."
She let her arms drop to her sides, frowning. "It's not silly! It's romantic!"
"Dragons don't follow mortal laws, Rhea."
"I know that!" she snapped. "It wouldn’t change anything as far as the rest of dragonkind is concerned. But to be able to stand in front of witnesses and say how much I love you, promise to stay by your side forever, come what may... Imagine that!"
He took a deep breath for patience. "You can say those things to me here, now. You have, in fact. Many times."
"It's not the same."
"Even if we were from the same dragonflight, we wouldn't have some ridiculous ceremony. We'd just become mates, and that's that. Which we've done."
"In secret. If our scales were the same color, I wouldn't have to hide. I could accompany you to gatherings at Wyrmrest. I could meet your siblings."
"You don't want to meet my siblings," he muttered.
"If they weren't corrupted... But that's not the point! We can't do things normally as dragons, but we could do something normal as humans."
"And then go right back to the same life of secrecy we’ve always had. Seems like a waste of time to me."
Rhea made a frustrated noise and put her hands on her hips. "Is this about the whispers? Are the Old Gods making you be so difficult about this?"
He immediately bristled in anger, clenching his jaw and taking a step back. "You know nothing about them. Nothing!" With that, he shifted into his true body, spread his wings, and flew off into the night sky.
Rhea couldn't risk being seen as a red dragon flying around Blackrock, and they both knew it. "Fine!" she called out in a tone that made it clear the situation was anything but fine.
She shifted down into her goblin form in order to move about the mountain without arousing suspicion, then stalked away with angry tears rolling down her green cheeks.
All was quiet in the main laboratory of Blackwing Lair except for the dripping of liquid through a maze of tubes and containers, and the scratch of a quill on parchment. A red-haired goblin was at the desk in the corner, sitting on a stack of books to reach the ledger. The lantern hanging above was the only light source besides the odd glow from certain jars and beakers. Crumpled tissues were scattered on the desk and overflowing the nearest wastebasket, but her eyes were dry now.
Rhea has been painstakingly copying the specifications for the last few generations of chromatic dragons into three columns to better compare them. Something had gone wrong with the latest, and obviously a recent change in the creation process was to blame. If she could just narrow it down...
Clanking footsteps approached in the hallway, and she froze in mid-pen stroke. Hopefully it was just a guard.
The steps grew closer, however, and soon a familiar figure entered the lab. The fire crown floating above his head cast bizarre, flickering shadows across the lab as Nefarian walked toward her with an unreadable expression.
She merely stared at him, waiting for him to make the first overture. Her pen began to leave an ugly blotch of ink on the paper, but she ignored it for now.
He moved into the circle of light from her lantern, reducing the effect of his blazing crown. "Found anything significant?" he asked flatly, gesturing at the ledger.
"Not yet."
"Hmm." He stepped closer, nudging a used tissue with his boot. He didn't comment, but he could hardly miss the evidence of her prior tears.
Rhea finally picked up her pen and began blotting the excess ink away with a clean tissue.
"My head is clearer now," he said quietly.
She raised an eyebrow and looked up at him, but his gaze was on the smeared ledger.
"I realize my reaction wasn't the one you were hoping for."
She made a short, derisive noise at his understatement.
"I've never been particularly interested in the mortal races, except for their inventions," he said, surveying the lab equipment surrounding them. "But... I was thinking about what you said, about this 'marriage' ceremony, and..." He began to rearrange an assortment of test tubes on a nearby rack as he talked. "I understand, now, what you were imagining. It isn't about the humans. It's about us."
A smile crept onto her face as she listened.
"We wouldn't have to make the same vows or live by the same customs as they do. But the part about declaring our love and promising to stand by each other... I...wouldn't object to that, if it would make you happy."
Rhea’s face lit up in a smile. "Oh, Romy, would you really do this for me?"
"For you." He turned around and faced her again. "I'm sorry about earlier. I do love you, Rhea. I would like nothing more than to roar it from the highest mountain peak, but since that isn't possible..." He slowly got down on one knee and took her small, green hands in his. "Rheastrasza, will you marry me?"
She grinned so hard her face hurt. "Yes, Romathion. I will." She slid out of her chair and threw her arms around his neck, squeezing him tightly. "Thank you."
"I've caused you enough pain and misery through the years," he murmured. "If this gives you joy, I'll do it gladly."
"Gladly, hmm?" She pulled back with an amused smirk.
"Well... I still think it's a ridiculous mortal custom and it's silly for us to have anything to do with it, but..." He chuckled and fell backward as she shoved him.
Suddenly it was not a goblin smiling at him, but a pale human with rusty red curls cascading down her shoulders. Rhea straddled him with legs clad in shining crimson armor, seizing his wrists with gloved hands to hold him flat on the floor. "I'll show you just how ridiculous and silly this is," she said in a low voice before claiming his mouth in a passionate kiss.
"As I said, I want to make you happy," he said with a twisted grin.
She released one of his wrists in order to cup her hand over his cheek, brushing back strands of jet-black hair as she kissed him once more. He put his free hand on her back, pressing her closer.
"You know..." he said.
She could tell he was about to say something obnoxiously amusing, and simply waited for him to finish that thought.
"If we're abiding by human customs, we're not supposed to do this until we're married."
She exhaled sharply and rolled her eyes. "As you so vehemently reminded me multiple times today, we're not humans."
"Thank the Titans," he said huskily before kissing her again.
In the forty-six years he had been serving as the deacon of the Lakeshire church, Father Jonevius had seen everything: babies abandoned on the church steps, affairs between the most unlikely people, starstruck teenagers so certain of their love that they eloped against their parents' wishes, miraculous recoveries from dire illnesses, and even a half-human, half-orc seeking asylum. Nothing surprised him anymore.
So when a pair of strangers--minor nobility, by their dress--showed up at the church asking to be married, it was just another day. He nodded patiently through their evasive explanation about the would-be groom's father disapproving of the match, paying more attention to their demeanor.
They weren't terribly young: well into their thirties, if not early forties--old enough to be making such a decision for themselves, certainly. It was obvious that they were deeply in love. One had only to observe the way they looked at each other, the familiar intimacy with which she hung onto his arm, and the way he seemed to sense when she wanted to speak and naturally turned the conversation to her...
That was what mattered, as far as Father Jonevius was concerned. These two loved and respected each other, and knew what they were getting into. The old priest seized a lull in the conversation to speak. "I would be happy to perform your marriage," he said with a half-nod, half-bow. "Do you have any witnesses?"
The couple both shook their heads. "My family is far away," said the woman.
"And my family would rather see us dead than wed," the man said. The priest honestly couldn't tell if he was exaggerating or not.
"Not a problem," he assured them. "There are always townsfolk willing to stand in at times such as this. You aren't the first pair to be in this situation."
The couple exchanged an amused look. "Good, good," the man said. "When can we begin?"
The priest smiled, well used to young lovers who couldn't bear to wait a moment longer than necessary. "An hour, perhaps. No longer."
"Very well.”
"Thank you," the bride said earnestly.
The couple left the way they had come, through the main door of the church. Father Jonevius set to work gathering the appropriate candles, scrolls and assistants.
"Not getting cold feet, are you?" Rhea teased as they strolled down the boardwalk, arm in arm.
"My dear, you should know by now I never have cold anything," he whispered close to her ear.
She scoffed but grinned. "This really is a lovely town, nestled between the red hills and the lake like this."
"I admit I've never seen it from the ground before," he murmured, casting a critical eye over the storefronts and merchants' wagons. "Or when everyone wasn't running around in a panic because of the dragon overhead."
Rhea shook her head but did not stop smiling. "Maybe after this you'll leave them alone."
"Don't count on it," he said with a devious smirk.
"You're terrible."
"That's the general consensus," he said mildly. "Still want to marry me?"
"Yes."
"Well, then." They reached the edge of town and lingered for a moment, enjoying the view of the lake. "Has it been an hour yet?"
She squinted at the sun. "A half hour, if that."
"If we walk really slowly..."
"We should read over our vows one more time." She reached into the pocket of her frilly, canary yellow dress and pulled out a folded parchment.
He sighed and reluctantly took a similar paper from inside his finely-tailored jacket. "I think I have mine memorized."
"Well, double-check to make sure there's nothing too, you know...draconic."
"Oh, you mean like this part where I talk about how my love for you burns as hot as my fire breath? Or the line about how beautiful your scales are?"
"Romy!" She elbowed him in the side.
He laughed, then began skimming over the paper in his hand.
Rhea suddenly looked up with a worried frown. "That's right...what name should I use for you? I can't call you Nefarian or Romathion."
"I usually go by 'Victor Nefarius' among humans."
She lowered an eyebrow. "And I imagine there are rumors aplenty about the sort of business you get involved in."
"What? Rare herbs? Dragon eggs?"
"Highly suspicious amounts of armaments for the armies of Blackrock."
"All procured through multiple layers of anonymity, I assure you."
"So the militia isn't going to come running to arrest 'Victor Nefarius' if he shows up in town?" she said skeptically.
"No!" He studied the parchment for a moment, then amended, "I mean, probably not. There was that one warlock who died under unusual circumstances shortly after he cheated me on a batch of less-than-pure fjarnskaggl. But you know warlocks, being incinerated by shadowflame is an occupational hazard."
Rhea covered her eyes and groaned. "Romy..."
"All right, fine, call me something else. Call me Romy, for all it matters. We'll never see these humans again, anyway. At least, not unless they're fleeing in terror as I set their town ablaze."
"Don't you dare!"
"I wouldn't," he assured her, patting her back. Her smile was quickly snuffed out when he explained, "That kind of overt attack on a human settlement would get Stormwind's attention, and my dear sister would have my head if I made her job that much harder. It's all she can do to keep their attention away from our kind. We want them to be aware of us, and fear us, but not be antagonized to the point where they'll go on the attack."
"Right. I should have known."
He shrugged. "Just being practical."
"Of course." She shook her head in fond exasperation, then checked the sun angle again. "Let's head back to the church and get married before you decide to set something on fire."
The chapel had been hastily decorated in their absence, with ivory banners draped over the altar and a bouquet of fresh wildflowers waiting by the door. To one side of the altar a two-tiered candelabra shone merrily with a dozen white candles.
"There's your fire," Rhea whispered in Nefarian's ear, giggling.
"It's a start," he muttered with a wink.
The priest came down the aisle with shuffling steps, the hem of his white vestments dragging along the dark red carpet. "All is ready for the ceremony." He appeared to be waiting for either of them to tell him that they'd changed their minds.
Instead Nefarian reached out to shake his hand with a broad grin. "Then let's begin!"
A second priest, this one a younger woman, was now present to assist. She handed the bouquet to Rhea, who thanked her. The elder priest led the groom to the altar. The front pew was filled with five of the townsfolk: three white-haired old ladies, a teenage girl, and a bored-looking man in a blacksmith's apron. Apparently they were the only ones willing to attend the wedding of total strangers. Perhaps they owed the priest a favor.
The younger priest went to the tiny piano in the corner and played a lively tune.
Rhea wouldn't have known what to do if she hadn't recently seen the ceremony herself, but now she confidently held the bouquet against her stomach and walked down the aisle with slow, graceful strides.
Nefarian watched her with a smile that grew wider with each step that brought her closer. When at last she stood beside him, she looped her arm around his and nudged him into facing the priest with her.
"Beloved brothers and sisters in the Light," intoned Father Jonevius, "we have gathered here in this holy place to unite two souls in the sacred bonds of matrimony. All goodness in the world flows from the Light, and the love shared by--" He glanced down at the paper Rhea had given him. "By Romatt and Rhea shines as a glorious example of the Light that lives in all our hearts."
Nefarian gave Rhea a bemused look. She hadn't told him what name she had decided to use.
She smiled slyly and squeezed his arm tighter.
The priest continued. "May the souls fused together by the radiance of the Holy Light never waver in their devotion to each other. May they live many prosperous years together, persevering through illness and injury, times of plenty and times of want, through joys and sorrows large and small, until their spirits must leave this world and join forever with the Light."
Rhea felt Nefarian tense, and pressed her side against his to reassure him. Mortals had their own ideas about such matters, while the spirits of dragons spent eternity around the Mother Tree Gha'nir. She knew Nefarian had worried in the past that the Old Gods' corruption might make black dragons unwelcome there, however. She caught his eye and silently told him that it was all right. Such details weren't what this ceremony was about. He nodded almost imperceptibly and leaned into her, as well.
They were so caught up in the moment of private communication that they jumped slightly when the priest addressed them directly. "Romatt Blackstone, do you promise to love and cherish this woman with all your heart?"
After the briefest of moments in which he had to wrap his mind around the pseudonym that Rhea had devised for him, he said, "I do."
"And Rhea Chromater, do you promise to love and cherish this man with all your heart?"
Upon hearing the name that loosely translated to "Chromatic mother," Nefarian could not suppress a noise of surprised amusement, but he turned it into a cough and regained his composure quickly.
Rhea grinned, enjoying his reaction. "I do," she said proudly.
Oblivious to their amusement, the priest continued. "Do you promise to protect and defend each other from harm to the best of your abilities?"
"I do," they said in unison.
"Do you promise to be patient and kind, to treat each other as you would wish to be treated yourself, and to share all that you have with each other?"
He looked into her eyes, knowing they were both imagining the diabolical laboratories of Blackrock Mountain which they already shared. "I do," they said.
"Do you promise to be partners in all aspects of life from this day until your last?"
Hearing the words "aspect" and "life" so close together made them immediately think of Alexstrasza, and they smirked at the private joke. "I do," they both replied.
"What token have you brought to signify your bond?" the priest asked.
Nefarian reached into his pocket and produced two gold rings, recently plucked from the treasure hoard in his lair. They were identical except one was set with a blood-red ruby, and the other with a dark chunk of obsidian.
Father Jonevius held the rings over his head and intoned, "May the Light bless these rings, as well as those who wear them. May they ever serve as a reminder of the vows you have spoken today, and of the love that brought you here." He held out the rings in the palms of his hands, the ruby to Rhea and the obsidian to Nefarian. She went first, taking the ring from him, then turning to her groom.
She grasped his hands in hers and looked deep into his eyes. "Romy, I love you with every spark of my soul. I always have, and I always will. No matter what it takes, no matter what anyone says, no matter what obstacles lie in our path, I swear I will be by your side. I will do everything I can to ease your burdens and make all your dreams come true. I know it's hard sometimes, but we will find the answers, somehow. Together. For every voice that pulls you toward doubt and despair, let my voice be twice as strong to keep you grounded in the light."
His eyes widened and his grip on her hands tightened. He knew what voices she was referring to, of course, even if no one else did.
"You are the bravest, smartest, most passionate dr--" She swallowed. "Man I have ever known. I will never give up on you, come what may. So much has changed since we first met, but this much remains certain: I love you, Romy. And I am yours forever."
With that, she carefully slipped the gold-and-ruby ring onto his finger.
He stood for a moment, stunned by the depth of her words. The priest held out the other ring as a hint for him to continue, and after a moment he composed himself enough to take it.
"Rhea, I..." He looked down at her hands clasped with his, running a finger across her wrist. "I don't know what I did to deserve you. After everything that happened, I never dreamed that you would want anything to do with me again, much less love me. Your heart is so big, and you're so resilient...stubborn..." They both gave a brief laugh. "You are by far the best thing in my life. I worry sometimes about dragging you down with me, but every time the darkness seems too strong, you somehow manage to lift me up again. I don't know how you do it, but I am so, so grateful to have you at my side. You talk about keeping me grounded in the light. You are my light, Rhea." He paused as he felt his voice about to waver, then went on. "You deserve every kind of happiness in the world, and I'm sorry I can't do more to provide it--"
"Romy," she chided under her breath, shaking her head at his self-deprecation.
"--but I swear I will spend every day I have on this broken, infested planet trying to bring you joy."
She blinked back happy tears and stifled a laugh at his wording. Spoken like a true, disgruntled black dragon.
"I love you, Rhea. I wish I could tell everyone in the entire world how amazing you are, and how lucky I am to have you. I may not say it out loud often, with things being what they are, but never doubt it for an instant. You are my soul mate, and I love you with..." He hesitated, then decided to go for it. "With the force of an exploding volcano." He gave a cheeky grin and slid the gold-and-black ring onto her shaking finger.
Father Jonevius lifted his arms and declared, "Through the grace of the Light, these two souls have been joined forever as husband and wife!"
"By the Light!" chorused the humans in the pew. Music burst from the piano in the corner.
Even if it hadn't been part of the ceremony for the bride and groom to kiss at that moment, they felt an irresistible pull to do so. Rhea threw her arms around his neck, holding the bouquet behind his head, and mashed her lips against his. He locked his arms around her back and returned the kiss with scorching fervor.
"You were right," he murmured when they finally broke away. "This was...nice."
She grinned. "Yes, it was.”
"You could have warned me about those names, though," he said with a lowered eyebrow.
She giggled, raised her bouquet above her head with one hand, and pulled him along with the other as they exited the church. Happy peals came from the bell tower as they descended the stairs, and to their surprise several young women were there to throw flower petals in their path.
"Where are we...?" Nefarian asked as the festivities continued down the boardwalk.
"Don't worry," said a matronly woman with her hair up in braids. "In all the excitement, you forgot to reserve a room at the inn, but we've got you covered. Enjoy your honeymoon!"
Rhea looked at him, shrugged, and thanked the woman.
"I thought we were going back home," he whispered.
"We can't very well fly away in the middle of all this," she whispered back with a wink. "Go along with it."
Without a better option, he did.
Hot breath on her cheek woke Rhea a few hours after sunrise. "Morning, Mrs. Blackstone," purred a deep voice.
She giggled even before opening her eyes.
"Hey, you came up with that name," Nefarian reminded her, nuzzling his nose against her neck.
"That I did."
He took her hand, threading his fingers together with hers so their rings touched. "So, do you feel any different now that you're a married woman?"
"Do you?"
"What? Feel different now that you're a married woman?"
"Romy..." She finally opened her eyes to give him a fond look of exasperation.
He chuckled and kissed her despite their lips being slightly tender from how often they had done so the day before. She accepted the gesture for a moment, then gently pushed him away and sat up. She winced and stretched, then leaned back against the headboard. "To answer your question, no, I don't feel any different. Just...happy."
He rested his head on his bent arm and gazed up at her with a lovesick smile. "Happy is good."
"Yes. Happy is good. Your genius astounds me."
"Would you prefer I rattle off the recipe for a complex potion?"
"Not particularly."
"Well, then." He scooted up to sit beside her and guided her to rest her head on his shoulder. "Are you hungry?"
"A little."
"I brought enough gold so we could buy horses and ride them north, then eat them and fly home from there."
"Sounds good to me. I wouldn't want to spend any more time in the saddle today than absolutely necessary."
"Are you implying I was less than gentle with you last night?" he asked, looking affronted.
"Maybe," she said playfully.
"Might I remind you that you were the one begging me to--"
A knock at the door made them both jump.
"Room service!" called an unfamiliar voice.
Nefarian hurried out of bed and into a bathrobe before answering, while Rhea hid with a blanket up to her nose. He opened the door and found a stooped old woman carrying a tray of breakfast food. "Don't fret, younguns, ol' Emmy can't see two feet in front of her these days. I do remember what a wedding night is like, though, so I figured you needed some sustenance to recharge, so to speak. Enjoy!"
"Uh...thanks." Nefarian accepted the tray from her and shut the door.
"Congratulations!" she hollered before her halting footsteps receded down the hall.
"How kind!" Rhea said, emerging from her blanket shield. "Oh, that smells divine!"
He brought the tray over, and soon they were devouring scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and apples.
A pitcher of coffee had been included, but Rhea declined in favor of water. "More for me," he said amiably, blowing a puff of flame into the pot to make the liquid inside steaming hot.
She watched the process with amusement. "Let me guess...you take your coffee black?"
He gave her a look of displeasure. "I want a divorce."
She giggled so hard she dropped a forkful of eggs onto the bed.
"Don't worry, those eggs aren't of any use for our experiments," he teased.
"Are you sure? We've tried just about everything else."
"Ah, yes, scrambled eggs would surely hatch into a majestic chromatic dragon," he said, rolling his eyes.
"Well, if not, we can get started on the next clutch as soon as we get home."
He looked around at the tidy but small room. "Yeah, we wouldn't fit in here in our real bodies."
"As I said, your genius is astounding."
He flicked a bit of bacon at her. "Didn't you just promise to be kind and patient with me?"
"You're the one who insists that we don't have to follow human rules."
He pouted. "Some of them weren't such bad ideas." He took a bite of apple and chewed moodily.
She smiled and continued to eat. "Your vows were wonderful, by the way," she said after awhile.
"Not as good as yours."
"I was just going to say, that was the only part I didn't like, how low your opinion of yourself is."
He chucked the apple core at the waste basket by the door, but it ricocheted off the wall and missed. "I know what I am," he said gruffly. "No amount of positive thinking is going to change that."
She set the tray aside on the table and crawled across the bed to embrace him. "Romy, you are what you are, and I love you regardless."
He sighed and bowed his head to rest his chin on her shoulder. "I know you do. I don't always understand how you can, but--"
Rhea lightly bonked him on the side of his head. "Oh, hush. We didn't go through all that yesterday for you to doubt today."
Nefarian relaxed a little and stroked the back of her head. "I know. I'm sorry. It's just...you're so amazing, Rhea. And I'm an unstable, corrupted mess. Even before the Sundering, I never fit in with my own dragonflight. I could never be the heir my father wanted me to be. And now the Old Gods have been writhing around in my brain for so long I don't even know what ideas are my own anymore."
She wanted to pull back to talk more easily, but she knew he found it easier to delve into such personal matters when she couldn't see his face, so she merely leaned her head against his and rubbed his back. "You know one idea that is yours and yours alone, Romy: you love me."
"That I do," he breathed, tangling his fingers into her curly hair.
"For now, that's enough," she whispered.
(Because that’s when the Blackwing Lair raid came out.) ;)
Remember to like and/or comment if you enjoyed the story! Thanks for reading!
I’ve been very much enjoying this series by SlightlyImpressive. He narrates as he plays with his own reactions and jokes, and he does the various voices and accents of the characters.
This latest episode takes him into the Badlands to start Rheastrasza’s quests. She comes in around the 16:38 mark, and it’s awesome.
He points out that she has the green Sims plumb bob on her dress, which I’d never noticed before. LOL!
He also has a perfectly timed “Oh really? Okaaay...” reaction to Rhea’s assertion that she’s interested in how black dragons procreate.
Re: killing the black whelplings: “That is rough. That is not what you think of when you think of somebody who’s really into studying nature. I don’t think Jane Goodall was like, ‘Hey why don’t you go slaughter some chimpanzees and bring me their babies--for science!’ This is a terrible quest. I’m so sorry, little babies.”
Yep, that’s Rhea. LMAO!
Re: stealing eggs right out from under Nyxondra: “I do not like anything about any of this. What is happening here?!”
Same, Griff. Same.
Next week’s episode should include the part where a certain uncorrupted egg is created.
