The Ties That Bind Us
Asteria swirled her finger rhythmically, the bejeweled silver spoon mimicking the pattern in the delicate bone china cup as she settled herself on the window seat. The tall bay windows opened up onto the Blackspire Estate, her ancestral homeland, and brought in a cool, floral scented breeze. The cloying notes of lilac, rose, and jasmine dominated over the other, more subtle blooms, though it bothered her not as they were her favorites. Which is why they were planted closer to the grand stone mansion. She smoothed her crimson arcanoweave robes over slender, pale legs as she plopped her bare feet onto the cushion. An indulgence against proper decorum as she was alone in this moment.
Alone because her petulant grandson was nowhere to be found… as usual.
She huffed, blowing a raven dark lock of hair from her eyes as she took a sip of the lightly sweetened earl grey, savoring the punctuations of citrus amongst the earthy florals. Like most of the Sin’Dorei, her silky smooth skin did not betray her numerical age, though she possessed a certain maturity to her visage that marked her as an elder amongst her people. In truth, she looked rather like an older, female version of her grandson… aside from the recent difference in their eyes.
The stray thought caused her to purse her ruby lips in annoyance. After all she had done for the boy - Raising him in that little cottage in the Ghostlands, far from prying eyes, to hide their family’s secret shame. Enduring his melancholy and maudlin antics as he mooned over that insipid boy at school. The fresh shame it brought the family as he dropped out of Thalassian University… and really, she could have likely bought their way out of that mess if he had given her a chance. It wouldn’t have been the easiest considering that other boy’s particular parentage, but the Blackspire’s still had connections within the city walls. But no. Her grandson had cited some nonsense about mental health and chosen to languish within his bedroom for a fortnight. She caught herself rolling her eyes at that. As if any man was ever worth that.
Speaking of… she still loathed herself for not putting her high-heeled foot down when her daughter had begged to marry that nouveau riche vagabond. Oh, but it had been “love.” Asteria snorted as she set her tea cup down and stretched back into the cushions. And where did that love lead her??
Nata’shara had always been a bright girl on top of her inherited beauty. A natural prodigy, she excelled at school, even creating her own spell before the age of 9. She was on the fast track to becoming a magister, perhaps even outpacing that stick-in-the-mud Rommath (though he was easy on the eyes, Asteria had to admit). Always inquisitive, she sought not simply to be able to utilize magic, but to understand the very nature of it. Her work on magic theory was some of the finest Asteria had read in her long, long life. Unfortunately Nata’shara’s book smarts far outweighed her street smarts. And that is where Malcolleas Grimm comes in.
The man had certainly been a pleasure to behold. She couldn’t fault her daughter there. But he was reckless and impulsive and perhaps worse of all - terribly gauche.
Broad, muscular, and unshaven, unbefitting for a blood elf of high standing, and far more proficient at physical endeavours than intricate magical workings, Malcolleas Grimm had been a disruption to the delicate ecosystem of nobility and wealth when he arrived on the scene. Rumors had swirled about the man like a vortex around Queen Azshara. On paper, the family had made their fortune through shipping and imports, willing to brave the dangerous, pirate infested waters to sell their goods in the neutral port towns of Booty Bay and Ratchet. The rumors insisted that they WERE the pirates. Which would certainly seem to fit with her first impressions of the man. She even wondered off-handedly if there was any human ancestry in the mix to account for the curious physical traits. If there was, she had been unsuccessful at proving it. And if she, with her vast resources, could not uncover it, then she was at least reassured that no one else could.
A hesitant knock interrupts her musings and she finds herself reaching for her shoes on instinct until the raven haired head of her grandson pokes through the doorway. Settling back in place, she arches an imperious brow at the recalcitrant youth. “Oh, so I see you finally decided to deign to make an appearance,” she says with mock sweetness.
Baz sighs wearily as he makes his way into the room, padding over the plush area rug to where his grandmother has perched amongst the sumptuous cushions. “I’m sorry grandmother,” he begins with the tone of a man walking to the gallows, “I’ve… just had a lot going on this weekend.” He adjusts the leather satchel on his shoulder automatically before consciously shoving it towards the back of his hip where it would be less likely to catch the attention of his grandmother’s sharp gaze.
Asteria reaches for her now lukewarm tea and takes a pointed sip, eyes narrowing over the rim of the bone china. “Oh… you mean you went out drinking again with the commonfolk and exceeded your… meager limits as usual. You really should be more mindful of your constitution, darling.” She looked down and studied her nails for dramatic effect.
“What?! NO!,” the young elf spluttered. “I mean, I did… but I wasn’t drunk. I was just… You know what? Nevermind!” he feels his voice almost crack on the last word, flustered as usual by Asteria’s sharp wit and sharper tongue. He closes his lavender grey eyes briefly against the indigo storm that’s likely taking shape and inhales through his nose, grounding himself.
Asteria’s matching eyes roll back and she gives a put upon sigh. “Come now, Basilton. No need for theatrics. Take a seat and have yourself a cup of tea. And pour me a fresh one while you’re at it.” She waves her hand over her cup leaving an empty vessel behind and extends it toward her grandson expectantly.
Baz sets his jaw but makes no further commentary. Delicate, pale hands find the antique kettle and he refills his grandmother’s cup before pouring one for himself. He adds cream and a few sugar cubes to his own, eyes darting nervously to his grandmother in anticipation of her remarking on his sweet tooth, before settling himself on the opposite side of the window bench, using the satchel as a back pillow. The breeze, still sweet and cool, ruffles his dark hair until he tucks it behind his ears.
“You barely visit anymore, Basilton,” she starts laying on the usual guilt trip as she sips her tea. “My only grandchild and you can barely make time for this poor, old woman.” Baz rolls his eyes at that. “Too busy galavanting with your new Alliance friends. Meanwhile, I languish all alone in this dusty old mansion.”
Baz feels his eye twitch as he takes in the luxurious and very not dusty surroundings. As if Asteria would leave a housekeeper employed that was so careless! He stares out the window at the tranquil garden below. “I’m sure your sisters and brothers and all your high society friends continue to stop over as frequently as they did before.”
“Eyes on the person you’re speaking to, Basilton,” she admonishes, waiting for him to comply before she continues speaking. “It’s not the same. YOU are my grandson. My heir. My blood. The last shred of my family. You should be here far more than those others… who would eagerly usurp my place should I show a modicum of weakness.”
Baz does find himself feeling a touch of guilt finally. They’re the only family each other has left. And his visits are likely the only time his grandmother can relax amongst company without fear of making a wrong move. He really should visit more if only for that reason alone, but he’s been so caught up in his research… both public and private.
With the void’s threat to Quel’Danas, and by extension all of Quel’Thalas, Baz had not hesitated to join the fray in whatever capacity he could. Perhaps it was his mother’s reputation preceding him, but Umbric had been quick to approve his application to be on one of the many teams of researchers. But what had at first started as relatively safe research (well, as safe as void magic could be) on the mainland and occasionally the isle, had descended into the alien wilds of the Voidstorm. Baz hunched in on himself against the stares that often accompanied him at base camp. The whispers asking why such a young elf had been allowed through the portal. During his moments of self doubt, he asked himself that as well. But yet he remained standing when even much older and experienced Ren’Dorei succumbed to the temptation of the void when put in such close proximity… though his own struggles were not negligible. He finds his mind wandering down the garden path to a few nights ago when he immersed himself in another part of the void.
“I met someone…” he begins, seemingly apropos of nothing to anyone not privy to his inner thoughts.
Asteria’s eyes spark with interest and she finds herself leaning forward before they suddenly dim. “I doubt you mean anyone suitable for courtship,” she challenges.
“A FRIEND,” Baz huffs impatiently, a blush pinking his cheeks.
He carries on hurriedly, “He’s a tracker of sorts. I thought he could help me make some sort of progress on my parents’ case.” Baz found himself flushing at the thought of the hunter. He might have a slight bit of hero worship for the older man. What must it be like to be so cool and confident and capable? Baz was booksmart. He had impeccable research skills and could even devise magical tools or improvised spells that would aid one in a fight, but he couldn’t wield a sword to save his life. Literally. The closest he got to physical prowess was shooting a bow from a distance at whatever animal he was hunting. Practical skills for living. Not the skills of a warrior.
Asteria shot Baz a warning look. She already didn’t like where this was going. Why couldn’t the boy leave things well enough alone?
Baz, apparently not knowing when to shut up, continued on. “We were able to investigate the rift and find the portal that-”
“You what?!” Asteria interjected with a voice like steel, her dark brows climbing her forehead. “We… uh… we,” Baz began to stumble upon his words under Asteria’s harsh gaze. “The rift…” Asteria said with a sneer. “Darling, I would burn the world down for you without hesitation… Know that. And yet here you go, following in the footsteps of that man.”
“You mean my *father,*” Baz sighed, setting his tea aside. Of course that’s the aspect that Asteria would cling to. She had never forgiven his father for, as she put it, “luring her precious daughter to the void.” So it wasn’t really surprising that she somehow blamed him for Baz’s own embrace of the void. Though he had done so as part of his own pursuit for knowledge… and to find his parents. “Unfortunately,” Asteria took a sip of her tea languidly before her gaze sharpened once more. “I coddled you too much, didn't I? That’s where I went wrong. I kept you too sheltered. I felt so bad after your parents were exiled and later disappeared… I just wanted to protect you from any more horrors this world had to offer. And now you can’t even survive on your own,” she scoffed, throwing her free hand into the air. “Traipsing into the rift like it’s a trendy holiday locale!”
Baz had the audacity to roll his eyes, “I can take care of myself.”
“As a civilian in the village? Sure. But, sweetheart, you insist on putting yourself in the eyesights of every monster and thug in your pursuit of knowledge. Traveling to dangerous lands no sane elf would. You have no survival instinct. Much like your father…” Asteria trailed off before adding thoughtfully, “But at least he had the muscles to make up for it.”
Baz scowled and set his jaw. “I’m an adult.”
“Oh, of course. Legally. Technically. Hmph. You’re 25, Basilton. You have no life experience, even by human standards,” she waved away his protest. Then she sighed as she set down her tea, her face softening. “I suppose finding your father wouldn’t be the worst thing if it means bringing back my beloved daughter. But what makes you think you will succeed where all my vast resources and wealth have failed?”
“Ah yes, all your vast Sin’Dorei resources who couldn’t give a damn if a couple of Ren’Dorei went missing or died,” Baz scoffed bitterly, folding his arms across his chest. Asteria closed her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose before she said something even she would regret. When she opened them, her gaze was as intense as her words. “Make no mistake, Basilton, I’m not foolish enough to waste my money on subpar services. I oversaw everything personally. I joined the search myself!” She slams her fist onto the cushion, unaccustomed to such failure, and forever wracked with guilt that it would be in this out of all endeavors.
Baz lowered his gaze, feeling guilty that he pushed his grandmother so far. For all her misgivings regarding his father, Baz knew without doubt that Asteria had loved her daughter more than anything in the universe. And while, perhaps with the arrogance of youth, he still thought there was hope for getting an answer to his parents’ disappearance, he shouldn’t have been so indelicate with his grandmother. “I’m sorry,” he offered quietly. “Mm, it’s fine,” Asteria waved off his concern, though her voice had held a slight tremble. She picked up her tea again, an indication that this topic of conversation was over. With definite finality. Baz frowned and chewed his lip, lavender gaze drifting out to the garden towards the peonies. The breeze was cooling. He suspected rain might be soon on the horizon. “There’s someone else I’ve met,” he said softly, almost apologetically for his earlier transgression. Asteria didn’t chastise him this time. She simply murmured her encouragement for him to go on. “A fellow noble…” Baz trailed off, still focusing on the tranquil beauty below. “I think he could prove to be a good ally to this House. I… I would like to set up a meeting if you would oblige.” Asteria narrowed her eyes shrewdly as she studied her grandson’s countenance. He was painfully easy to read. With a sigh, she responded, “You’ve made a friend, have you?” Baz startled and turned to face her, a faint blush across his cheeks. “I, uh, yes. I believe I have.” His eyes were focused on Asteria but his mind seemed split between here and somewhere else. Asteria nodded knowingly. She would, naturally, indulge him as always. He was, after all, her only grandchild. “Very well, Basilton. Set up this meeting. I shall meet your friend.”
