#allidar

More silence. Niccolai combed his fingers through his wheat-blonde hair. “You and she were like ice and fire. You didn’t mix. One of you was bound to destroy the other.” He drummed his fingers on his arm. “I guess I should be grateful you weren’t the one to strike first. Though you certainly chipped away at her patience all you could.” He wasn’t sure why he bothered. The undead man wouldn’t listen. He never did, not unless Niccolai had some sort of fact he had need of. “Well. It’s all known to you already, anyway. I suppose I’ll be going.”

“...She didn’t have to leave,” Allidar murmured. Niccolai lifted a brow. “We could have... It didn’t have to be this way. I could have...”

“You could have what? Changed everything about yourself? Allidar, don’t lie to yourself.” He sighed. “You’ve improved a lot since we first met. I hoped your biting issue would have been fixed by now, but... Progress is progress, I suppose.” The doctor adjusted his ruby specs. “Allidar, be honest with yourself. If you had any intention of fixing this, you would have learned to open up and speak to her as if she was an equal to you. You know, like a person would. If you truly wanted this to work out, you would have put more work into it.”

“But I did, Niccolai.” He turned his head, his icy gaze cast over his shoulder. “I tried to accommodate her. I gave her what she wanted. I gave her Cirrus, I gave her Sorrowdusk, I gave her the freedom to seek from others what I could not give. I gave up my revenge...” He turned back to the window. “...Revenge is all I have, and I let it go for her. Hatred is all I can truly feel. Yet I stifled it for her. I haven’t felt as dead before as I do now.”

“Allidar,” Niccolai sighed, “I know. I know you tried. But it wasn’t enough. It’s time to let it go. She wants nothing to do with you. She fled this world--this timeline--just to get away from you. It’s over.”

“...It doesn’t have to be.”

To say her latest visit to Silvermoon was “impromptu” wouldn't mean much.  All of her visits back home were unplanned, and she was grateful that she had the ability to go on a whim.  Sometimes, as much as she enjoyed living at the Overhang, she just needed to see her own kind again.

To say that running into Feyoran was a surprise, however, was making an understatement.  The last time they'd met, he'd left her curled up and sobbing in the snow.  She hadn't exactly been looking forward to ever seeing him again.  His greeting didn't make things any better.

“Miss Lin, what has he done to you?” His eyes had rounded in something akin to horror.  It immediately put Lin's hackles up, and she'd never once lost her temper with him before.

“It wasn't Allidar!” she spat, thinking he was referring to her obviously-rounded belly.  It seemed a logical conclusion: Death Knights weren't exactly known for their baby-making abilities.  Unfortunately, then she realized that her declaration didn't make her situation look any better, and it was too late to fix it.  Further explanation would only make things worse.

Turned out, she needn't have worried, because it wasn't her pregnancy he'd been referring to.  There was a hardness to her, he'd said, cruelty in her features that had never been there before.  What was this Death Knight doing to her?

Lin was so shell-shocked that she almost didn't hear him asking her to leave Allidar.  There were no declarations of love, or of wanting her to come back to him, of course; even if he'd still held any shreds of affection for her—and she knew he didn't—he would never ask for something so selfish.  But there was concern in his voice, worry that she was swiftly becoming a monster.

And perhaps she was.  Who else would enjoy having pain inflicted upon them?  Who else would crave it, would ask for it?  Once, she would have thrashed anyone who dared do the things she now allowed Allidar to do.  Now...even now, she found herself missing it.

But it wasn't just that.  She was turning hard, had adopted Allidar's fierce need to win at whatever cost.  Because she would never be dominant over him, she had begun taking out her aggression on the only person with whom she could get away with it: Cirrus.  And he'd called her out on it, too.  She was becoming someone she hardly recognized.

That was why she'd run from Feyoran, without so much as a word of farewell.  It was why she was curled up on her parents' bed—dust-covered but still smelling somehow of her mother—and why she was crying her heart out.  To leave Allidar was unthinkable; she did love him, and loved all the things about him even as she fought against becoming that herself.  She was his balance: where he felt too little, she felt too much.  Her fire helped to thaw him, and he cooled her down when her temper was raging.  They would destroy each other if she became like him.

Besides, what kind of mother would she be to her child?  She wanted to be like her own parents.  Both Allidar's and Cirrus's childhoods seemed bereft of affection and laughter, and she would not allow that for her own child...

A noise in the apartment brought her out of her misery in an instant.  Bolting upright, Lin glanced toward the doorway, which was darker even than the bedroom.  She hadn't realized the sun had gone down, and wouldn't have felt the need to light any lamps even if she had.  This had always been a safe place, but that noise had not been the usual sounds of settling.  Someone was inside.

Lin fumbled for the lamp on the bedside table before remembering she had another means of illumination at her disposal.  Thrusting her hand out before her, she called the Light to her with barely a thought.  Her hand glowed brilliant and golden, casting stark shadows off the objects in the room.

And Sarin Autumnchaser, who'd just entered the doorway, recoiled as though he'd been struck by a venomous snake.

“...Papa?”  

Allidar: I've killed Bladeleaf.

Everyone: Why--

Allidar: And now he's back to life and I've let him go.

Everyone: Oh, okay, well if you say so.

Allidar: WHY IS HE BACK

Everyone: Maybe he's mad

Allidar: KILLING AGAIN

Everyone: Okay--

Allidar: Psych, letting him go. GTFO.

Everyone: So... Are you trying to be honorable or--

Allidar: Wait why am I captured

Everyone: Okay let's rescue him I guess.

Allidar: Splendid, the saberon have torn him to shreds.

Everyone: Now that that's done--

Allidar: Now he has mechanical legs and a robot arm.

Everyone: ...Okay -what-

Allidar: Killed him again.

Everyone: For good now?

Allidar: Nah, Lin said to revive him, so he's back.

Everyone: This is a bad idea.

Allidar: It's okay, he's under my mental control.

Everyone: He just fu

“I…I think I spilled the wine.”

Allidar looked at the bearskin rug and frowned. “…That will stain.”

“…I can clean it up…”

He stepped over and glanced over the damage. A bit on the fur and more on the wooden floor. “Hmmh… A bear hunt is in order…” He looked back to her. “I’m willing to overlook this.”

Lin exhaled again, this time in relief.  Unarmed as she was, she didn’t have much chance if he decided some sort of overkill punishment was due.  "Thank you,“ she murmured.

He shuddered a bit and looked back to the fire. ”…But if you would like to offer something in return, I have a suggestion.“

”…What’s that?“

I seem to like writing myself bedtime stories now instead of reading them.  :P

“What is that.”

The disdain in Allidar's voice was almost enough to raise Lin's hackles.  Almost.  Luckily for all involved, she was too excited to let her temper become truly roused.

At her feet was the contraption she'd been working on for weeks, along with Leazy's discreet assistance.  The parts had all come from a box of scraps and abandoned projects, and it showed in the mismatched array of appendages.  The most complicated part—the head—had already been put together before she'd gotten to it.  All she'd had to do was fix a few wires and gears.

“I have no idea what all the bits were supposed to be,” she replied after more admiration.  The contraption vibrated on its four limbs, little puffs of smoke coming out of its exhaust pipe tail.  The two cylinders on its “face” were turning smoothly; all it had taken was some realignment and a bit of grease.  Even its three little headlights were shining like new.

“It was a scaled-down prototype of a stone grinder I'd hoped to build.” By this point, Allidar's attention had returned to his own project, which undoubtedly had more use than Lin's.

“Well,” she countered, “now it's a dog.”

“Yes,” he drawled, “now it's a dog.  I hope you have a way of turning it off, before it goes chewing through the walls.”

Lin pressed a button on a small remote, and her mismatched mechanical dog went still.  “Aren't you prooouuud of me?” she wheedled, pushing his arm aside so she could slide onto his lap.  “Didn't I do a good job?”

Allidar was doing his best to look irritated, but she could see the faint shift in his expression that denoted amusement.  “Yes, very proud,” he replied, glancing around her as he pretended to continue his work.  “Maybe next time, you'll be able to do it without Leazy's assistance.”

“Hey!” the goblin shouted indignantly.

“Oh,” Lin leaned in to kiss him, and he was gracious enough to return it.  “Just you wait 'til you see what I have in mind for my next project.”

(…13, oh dear)

Allidar sat with his arms folded as he stared at the screen. It was a prototype, something Leazy hoped would change the world. Less bulky than a hologram but more versatile than a written page, the screen flickered with images pre-recorded on a disc styled after Titan technology found deep within the vaults of Uldaman. Leazy stood beside his chair, her knuckles an almost acid shade of green as her hands clenched on each other. She could do nothing but stare at the screen in silence. It was working perfectly, but she truly hadn’t intended to choose that disc. Allidar stroked his chin as he watched the screen, on which were two draenei women engaged in some of the filthiest intercourse he had ever seen. 

Linthael returned from dinner and stepped into the room, smiling to the two as she saw them. Before Leazy could even squeak out a warning, Linthael walked to Allidar’s side. “What’s this thing…” She blinked several times at the screen. “…Allidar, what are you watching?!” Linthael couldn’t even look away. Her jaw dropped and she peered closer at the screen. “Wait… Wait! Does one of them have… Have a…?” She looked to Allidar questioningly.

The death knight drummed two fingers on his chin for a moment. “Leazy.”

“Sir! Sir, I am so sorry, this isn’t the disc I meant to–”

“Fix the bottom half of the screen. The image is distorted.” 

“Er… Yes, sir! Yes, right away!” Leazy finally lunged for the device, switched it off, and tore it off his desk as she ran out of the room.

Linthael stood there in confusion and scratched her head. Allidar’s fingers tented over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. “It was an interesting position, wasn’t it?”

“…I still can’t tell if that was a tail or a penis.”

“Hermaphroditism is relatively prevalent in female draenei. That being said, the tail was being used to–”

“Wait. Wait, Allidar, I just ate.” Linthael smiled meekly. “Let’s just… Let’s have a drink of wine.”

“Wine for me. Juice for you.”

I needed to cheer myself up, and what better way than with some drabble!

“How long will you be gone?”

Corra smiled in that gentle way of hers, but shrugged helplessly.  “I hope not more than a few hours,” she replied.  “A day, at most.  I would take him with me, but...it really is no place for a child.”  She looked down lovingly at her son, who was nestled in a cushiony sort of chair that supported him everywhere his wobbly little body needed supporting.  “You'll do fine, Linthael, don't worry.  He likes you.”

“But...what do I do with him?”

“Do?” The Draenei chuckled and patted Lin's head; she was really getting this mother-of-a-small-child thing down pat.  “Just look after him!  Make sure he's fed, and changed, and don't let him nap for too long or he'll be up all night!” She reached out, and Xirile wrapped his tiny hand around her finger.  “I'll be back as soon as I can, little one.  And Linthael, I know you'll take great care of him.”

“But--!”  It was too late; Corra had disappeared through the portal, unable to linger a moment longer lest she give in to weakness and stay with her son after all.  Lin wrinkled her nose and looked back to the infant.

No one could deny he was an adorable little thing, with his kaldorei father's green hair and his mother's expressive face.  Everything down to his tiny hooves were perfect.  But that didn't mean Lin had even the slightest idea of how to care for him.  She was still at the stage where she feared breaking him every time she held him.

Just then, Xirile poked a chubby finger at her belly.  There was a tiny spark of Light, and then he giggled and stuffed his fist in his mouth, staring up at her.  “Oh no you don't,” she said, unable to hold back a laugh.  “I refuse to believe you know what's going on in there when you can't even hold your head up on your own.  Nice try, kid.”  Xirile burbled again, lips pulling back slightly from toothless gums.  “Stop being so cute.  Here.”

After a surreptitious look to make sure no one else was in the area, Lin pulled out a tiny sword from its hiding place in the waistband of her trousers.  It was made of foam, completely harmless, but it was never to early to learn, right?  She handed the foam blade, hilt first, in Xirile's direction.  The infant grabbed at it with both uncoordinated hands—one now covered in drool-- and banged it happily against a pudgy thigh.  Eyes scrunched shut, and lips peeled back once more to reveal a toothless grin.

“Does Corra know you're giving her child weapons?”

Lin jumped, but relaxed immediately when she recognized the voice.  “Oh, it's only foam,” she said dismissively.  “And besides, doesn't he look like a handsome little warrior? Go ahead, show Uncle Allidar your mean warrior face!”

Xirile laughed uproariously.

“Hm.”  Allidar watched for longer than was probably necessary to feign interest, then walked out of the room.