arcanemagic / give me your dread heart; make me your king.
she purses her lips for a moment of contemplation, mulling on his response. not good enough, she thinks, and he knows it. knows that she is not satisfied with such a lackluster reply, with such a lie. her elongated ears twitch just slight, and she shifts once more. her sights take her over the purview of the black temple, a single and lonesome thought cast out at the loss of such a prospect. but her mind returns to where they are, and she peers at him once more.
they are similar now in physical nature than she would like. slightly longer eyebrows, elven - like ears, fel - green glowing eyes, taller. part of her hates it. she can find stormrage from beyond the twisting nether, but to go out and search for someone so powerful and renowned… she pushes the thought away. no, the huntress was there at his fall. he is not in the nether. jaina looks to kael’thas with more sorrow in her eyes than doubt, as if a part of her has failed him.
he wants what’s best for his people, she knows.
❛ to what end? ❜ she asks with genuine intrigue, ❛ how does a temple a world away assist the sin’dorei? ❜
she guards herself in a way that kael’thas is acutely familiar with. the purse of her lip is one he has seen many times, just as the look of disappointment flitting over her features is as well. not good enough, indeed. still, she stays. still he continues to disappoint. it’s a sad thing, really, how no matter what he says her dread heart will ever find fault, many and never just one.
“ we won’t find any help here, ” he offers, and the black temple feels more like a stain than the holy ground it once was meant to be, “ illidan has forsaken us. we will ... ” it is no secret, really, at least not to her, that kael’thas heart hasn’t laid with illidan’s motives in a long, long time. too long, infact. every day his people keeps stagnating.
“ we — i — have needs of help elsewhere. ”
kil’jaeden was, surprisingly, easy enough to summon. kael’thas is a powerful mage and few boasts his magical prowess. a message sent into the nether and a reply returned, soon ending with a meeting where the brand of a legion would, for the first time in kael’thas’ life, sear fire into his skin and burn.
he nurses his chest where the fledgling shards of green crystal grows through. he hasn’t told about it to anyone but he sees the eyes of priestess delrissa, how they fold at the edges, and he sees the uneven smile beneath the veil that covers her lower face. she knows. he doesn’t doubt that many other shivarra and demons of the medical school knows too.
“ illidan wouldn’t help me ... us. he promised, and never delivered, ” the softness in his tone, reserved only for her, melts away and builds up again with hate, “ and so my deal with him is over, and my deal with the deceiver will come to be proven to be true. ”