His Majesty, The Rat King

“Hello, Ann’da.”

“Hello, my princess.”

“Minn’da always told me that you are a kind and loving man.”

“Do you believe it?”

The red haired girl stared at Melaeth for a moment. With a faint smile, she nodded. “Yes.” Her small hand reached out and touched his hand. He was more than happy to swoop her hand into his, lifting her hand to his lips as he gently placed a kiss upon her skin. He smiled at the six year old girl and she gasped. “You have sharp teeth. Are they dangerous?”

Melaeth’s lips closed to cover his teeth, but the smile lingered. “Not to you.” The little girl canted her head to the side and gazed at her father curiously. 

The man inched away against the wall as the tall elf approached him from the shadows. He had trapped himself and, desperate to find a way out, he tried to run to the side, but he saw grotesque humanoid things scowling at him from the sides. He knew what they were. Ratz. He turned to see a sharpened smile coming toward him. “It’s so good to see you again, Gerald,” the elf said. “You owe me something.” The Ratz grabbed the man’s arms and legs and before he could beg for mercy, the elf leaned in and the sharpened teeth dug into the man’s neck, like little daggers tearing into his skin before a chunk of flesh was ripped off

The little girl’s eyes shifted up his face, examining his features she had only heard in stories. “We don’t have the same eyes,” she said softly. Melaeth gazed into her green to light blue eyes.

“No, but your eyes are very similar to mine a long, long time ago.”

“Really?” She smiled and reached up to touch his eye lids.

The man gasped for breath as the deranged elf’s brilliant green eyes stared at his brown eyes. “Did you think you could hide from me? I have eyes everywhere, Gerald.” He smiled again with now blood-stained teeth. “Everywhere.” The man couldn’t help but stare at the mad eyes that terrorized him at that moment.

“Will they ever go back to this color? Minn’da’s eyes are not so green.”

“I don’t think they will, my princess,” Melaeth said softly. He gazed up at a tree off in the distance. He could see her silhouette, watching them closely, listening closely. That was as close as Lily would dare to be. He understood. They had promised to stay away for Amaranth’s sake. Meeting once more would be disastrous. That she had granted him permission to speak to Amaranth and spend time with her was a blessing. As long as he did not disclose who he was to the rest of the world, he could spend time with his daughter. It was a simple request that Melaeth could attain to. 

Amaranth’s eyes shifted down his neck and torso, looking at the tattoos and trying to decipher what lay beneath his fur vest. She looked at his hands again. They were rough, but slender and soft to handle. She saw the nails that extended into sharp points and she said, “And your hands look like claws.” She giggled a little, “Like minn’da.”

The Rat King stared at the dying man and he laughed softly. “I’m not going to lie. I enjoy this part very much. Just watching you take your last breaths. It’s quite satisfying.” The man continued to gasp, choking on blood. “But you’re not dying fast enough.” The King punched the man a few times, then he dug his nails into the man’s chest, as if his nails alone could rip through his chest to grasp his failing heart. The beat slowed and the man gasped a few more times before he stopped moving altogether. The Rat King retreated his hand and licked the blood off his fingers and nails. “Get rid of him,” he ordered. The four Ratz with him drew weapons and began to tear the man apart before anyone walked into the alley. 

Melaeth smiled and nodded. “They are there to protect you. I promise you, my princess, no one will ever harm you.” He smiled at her and then gazed up at the tree. “No one,” he said again, a little louder. Turning back to Amaranth, Melaeth reached down to kiss his daughter’s head.

“Happy birthday, my beautiful princess,” he said.

“Thank you, ann’da,” she said. Without hesitation, she leaned into his fur vest, wrapping her little arms around him. There was something about his scent, a musky sweet, coppery scent that made her feel safe and comfortable. “I love you.”

“I love you too, my princess,” Melaeth said softly, closing his eyes to take in the moment that only took place twice a year. 

The light plume of cigarette smoke lifted up above his head, blending into the clear day. He paced about the courtyard, looking at everything and nothing. His heavy brown boots took slow, deliberate steps as he retraced his steps over and over. His hand ran through is blonde hair as he paused to draw the cigarette from his lips. Tilting his head back, he blew the smoke out into the sky, eyes closed as he inhaled deeply. 

Six. It had been six years since Lilysa Liao left his side. Six years and he still longed for her. Melaeth wanted to know if she had found someone else or if she longed for him, but since he had destroyed the Flea’s ability to find her, those were just speculations that he could’t bear. So he stepped onto the courtyard once more, as he did every year, as a way to remember her. As a way to renew vows that were never there. But they were. The ring she had crafted, one that another was supposed to receive, still sat on his right ring finger. It was never to be removed. No one dared ask him to, not even Mora. 

His finger touched the ring and he placed the cigarette back between his lips, only to remove it and exhale the smoke. This was the time when he would say something, such as a long speech reminding Lily how much he loved her and how he wished he could be with her. He would admit that he no longer wanted to be the Rat King, and how he wanted to just let the whole thing die if it meant coming home to her. He would ask about his daughter, almost six years old. He would tell Lily how sorry he was for letting her go. He would try to take it all back. 

Except, this time he didn’t. He just looked around in silence. His green eyes glanced at every corner of the courtyard, watching the ghosts of the people who were present on that day, the wedding that never occurred. He recalled Lily in her red dress and how they went off to a tower nearby and exchanged words, vows, and the ring he wore. How he wished those ghosts could turn to him and tell him their own memories of the events that took place.

A bird flew overhead and a soft warm breeze blew past him. He smiled and sighed. He knew she was nearby, but he didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. With another heavy sigh, he dropped the cigarette onto the stone ground and stepped on it before looking around one last time. 

Early morning light hit the quiet village of Zouchin in Pandaria. Many pandaren were already starting their day, carrying water, fishing, and harvesting crops. A few of them were standing before a shrine, praying and offering well wishes for the new day. 

“I’ve never killed a pandaren,” the Rat King muttered from behind a tree as he watched the citizens at the shrine. “They have never crossed my path before.” The Flea smirked and stood with his hands crossed. “I bet it would be messy with all that fur.” He looked down at his nails and when he looked up, the pandaren began to move away. That was the King’s signal to move toward the shrine. 

He stood at the shrine and saw the small food and flower offerings. “I’m here,” he called out. A few pandaren looked up toward the shrine and the Flea smiled at them, waving them away. The Rat King took a small box from his vest and opened it. It was a ring with a small rat. It was a simple ring enchanted to fit the owner’s finger at all times. 

“Five years. She’s five years old. I’ve only seen a shadow of her. Let me see her, please,” he quietly begged. He thought about Vera and Nath, his children with Mora, and how he adored spending time with them, watching them smile and play. But he never saw Amaranth grow, and it hurt him more than anything. He remained silent for a moment and nothing happened. WIth a sigh, he shook his head. No, today was not the day. “Very well,” he said, kneeling at the shrine and placing the ring on the ground. He knew it was safe because Lily would appear out of nowhere, take it with her, and never be seen. She was good like that. 

“Tell her I love her. Tell my daughter that I think of her every day.” The Rat King, Melaeth, sighed and nodded before standing. “Happy birthday, Amaranth,” he said softly. 

He then turned away and walked down the path to where it would be safe for the Flea to cast. Then the swish noise occurred and the ring was gone. The King smirked. “Sneaky.” He blow a kiss in the general direction of shrine and he chuckled. 

“Let’s go.”

Following the King, the Flea bowed deeply and smiled. He then followed the King to take him back to the Kingdom. 

Thank you. ❤️

He sat in the middle of the courtyard in Panderia, the same courtyard where she declared her love for him and where he realized she was all he wanted in his life. He had sat there in the middle, alone, for the past five years. Every year, it felt as if she were creeping closer to him, but Melaeth wasn’t sure if she was or if it was just his urging desire to see her again. 

Melaeth, the Rat King, sat cross-legged on the stone and stared at gray-blue stone in his hand. “The Flea encased it in…something to make it last longer. I got it from Northrend, where we used to spend all our time at.” He chuckled. “I wonder why we stayed there when we could have gone anywhere else.” He swept a strand of blonde hair out of his face and he placed the stone in front of him. “You’ve been gone for so long. I’m starting to forget the sound of your voice and the feel of your touch. I even wonder if…you’ve moved on. I will not blame you if you have, but…if he does anything to hurt you or my daughter, he will die.” There was no passion behind his words, however. He simply didn’t have the energy to be angry. It was as if this place weakened him and he was powerless to everyone and everything. He sat a still another hour, hoping, as usual, that she would appear, take him in her arms, and tell him that everything was going to be alright, but she didn’t. She never did. All he felt was her presence and occasionally, her scent lingered in the air. 

“I have to go. The Kingdom is expanding. You would be so proud of me. Tell my little Amaranthe that I love her and that I cannot wait to see her one day. I will find her, Lily. I will find her and I will tell her everything, even if you are against it. She has to know.” Melaeth sighed and pushed off the ground. “I will meet you at our home for her birthday. Until then, I love you, my beautiful Lily.”

He closed his eyes and as usual, he felt the soft gust of breeze swirl around him and even the soft touch of a caress on his cheek. Melaeth smiled briefly, but after so many years, he was ready to let her be. After all, this was his choice, right? He looked back at the stone he left in the courtyard, and as always, it was gone. 

With a soft chuckle, the Rat King walked away toward the forest as he awaited for the mage to appear to take him home. 

He hasn’t seen her in a long time, but when she doesn’t appear to him, he can’t help but smile. The Sanguine Sorceress is someone who he feels is a connection to the love of his past, Lily. So when he sees her, he appreciates her company, but does he trust her? Not entirely. There are a few reasons for this, but most importantly, she’s a witch who works alone, so she has her own agenda. He’s pretty sure that her agenda doesn’t fit into his.

Mention: @sanguinesorceress

Deep in his ailing slumber, the Rat King keep seeing images of the one who he once loved. He admired him and hoped to one day be just as brave and heroic as he was, but that all went away the moment the King heard him say “Get out of my home.”

The Rat King, or Melaeth, saw the world he once knew crumble before his eyes. This man was supposed to be his protector, his guardian, the one who was going to teach him the ways of life, and instead, his own father disowned him, belittled him, and abandoned him. Melaeth ran from this man, whom he adored with all his heart. And now, that heart was broken, only to mend with the darkness of rage and revenge.

The Rat King will always remember those who sought to hurt him. Melaeth misses his father’s love every day.

He walked down a foggy path. He wasn’t sure where he was or what he was doing on this obscure path, but he continued to walk. Lookin down at his hands, they were back to normal; no more skeletal thin fingers, no more hunger, and more importantly, no more pain. He was back to normal. He as back to being the Rat King. With a grin on his lips, his walk turned into a slight saunter. After all, where was he going? He then saw faint traces of lights off in the distance and he knew he had to walk in that direction. 

 The closer he got to the lights, the more he could hear drums and talking, but in a language he rarely heard. What was this? The King reached for his dagger, but he had none. Nonetheless, he continued to make his way through the fog, his body tensing as he recognized the horrid dialect being spoken. Trolls... The King stepped into the village, the fog dissipating behind him. He could see the tribe of Trolls dancing and laughing around the bonfire at the center of the village and he gritted his teeth. How he hated them for merely existing. He wanted to kill at least one of them, even if it meant dying. What would it matter if he died? He had spent months as a weakened fool on the throne, so who would miss him? 

 As he walked closer to the trolls, they turned and saw him, smiling and nodding, making way for him. He furrowed his brows and looked at the chief who rose from his throne and smiled at him. “We had been expecting you,” the chief said. 

 “Me? I’m here to kill you.”

The trolls laughed and the chief smiled. He lifted a hand to silence them and he made his way toward the Rat King. “Kill me? You cannot kill me. You are one of us. You are home.” 

The Rat King glared at him and the chief stepped back, gesturing to the trolls around to give him space. “All of you deserve to die,” he growled. He looked at one of the trolls and he rushed at him, but the troll moved aside and the King stumbled, falling toward a line of cages that had elves and other beings. He heard the trolls laughing and the chief walked toward him. 

“You are one of us, child. Surely you remember. We made you what you are.” The Rat King glanced around to find a weapon to attack with when he saw a light skinned elf in a cage, with blonde hair and frightened blue eyes. For a moment, the Rat King stared at the elf and he whispered, “Melaeth?” The elf reacted upon hearing that name and the King shook his head. “What witchery is this?!” He screamed and reached out to the elf, only to see a blue arm in front of him. “No!” The Rat King rose and scrambled about the village to find something that would show him his reflection. The trolls made room for him, some laughing, but none touching him. 

When the King found a collection fo water, he looked at his reflection, seeing a troll with large tusks looking back. His eyes widened and he shook his head. “You see, child? We were waiting for our lost son to return. Welcome home.” The chief smiled as the Rat King shook his head, screaming. 

But the screams were slight, weakened whimpers. The ill monarch simply shivered under the blankets and whimpered over and over, unable to move much at all.

“He does that once in a while,” the night elf said as she glanced over at the King. “We’re losing him, Teriaan.” She turned back and her tired, silver eyes looked at the dark haired blood elf before looking down at the cup of tea in front of her. The two elves sat at the table where most of their decisions were made by the three of them. 

The Champion sighed and leaned on the table. “I don’t know what else to do. Kelah has been medicating him. You’re watching him. Unless he gets some sort of help, we may have to let him go.”

“And then what? Let Mora take over? I doubt that.” Sarinna sighed and shook her head. “You’ll have to step up.” She stared at him for a moment. “Are you ready to step up?” 

 Teriaan looked at the ailing King and sighed. “No.” He reached out and held Sarinna’s hand. “Are you?” 

For a moment, Sarinna simply stared at him and she then looked down. “We need him.”