#haldrat

But who was she to judge? She had gotten herself just as drunk after finding out about their liaison, swallowing the hurt down along with the mead.

"Lilith," a rough voice spoke her name, breaking her train of thought. She lifted her head to look at him. "I'm glad you came." He pulled out the chair across from her and sat down, the weight of his plate armor making a notable thud against the wood. He motioned for a barmaid.

"I almost didn't," she said, looking back down at her cider and wondering if, perhaps, she should have just stayed at the Legerdemain. Seeing his face just renewed the stabbing pain she had felt in her gut the other night, before the mead had made the world numb.

"I'm sorry about last night."

"Which part, exactly?" she asked, a bit of spite clear in her tone. The cheating on me part, or the stumbling into the bar area and harassing me part? she added in her head.

Haldrat frowned. "C'mon Lil," he said in a disarming fashion.

"Why did you ask me here?" she asked after a moment of pause, wanting to get right to the point.

"I need to tell you something. And you have to promise to hear me out, to the end of it, without interruption."

She scowled at him. "Fine."

"Yesterday I was asked by the Ebon Blade to lead a battalion and intercept this elite group of death knights that are still sided with the Lich King. We thought we'd surprise them... However, they were expecting us. It was a trap. I barely made it out, as you could tell from my injuries. I was fighting this one guy... their leader. He was taller than me, stronger, with silver hair." He paused a moment to study her expression. She hadn't yet made any inclination that these features sounded familiar to her, so he continued. "I pulled this off of him before getting away." He loosened a pouch on his belt and pulled out a heavily battle-worn locket.

Lilith's eyes went wide, her discontented look disappearing in favor of a shocked expression. "Wh—what?" She clearly recognized the necklace and reached out for it. Haldrat lowered it into her palm slowly. She clasped her hand around it and squeezed her eyes shut. "Oh Light," she whispered.

"Your photo is in there, Lil. Along with the death knight I fought."

"I know," she whispered, bringing her closed fist to her chest and resting her other hand on top of it, her eyes still closed.

"Who is he, Lil?"

"Aremar," she breathed, opening her eyes again. "His name is Aremar."

"Is he the one who...?" The one who died in the Third War? Your first love? Your fiancé? The unspoken words found their way into Lilith's mind.

"Yes."

He frowned sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Lil. I didn't know."

She lowered her hands to the table and opened her fist, staring at the locket and the tiny indentations that clenching it so tightly had made into her palm. The locket looked like it'd been through hell, the intricate design on the front of it nearly entirely scratched off and the hinge half-broken, which made the locket open lopsidedly. A tightness in Lil's heart formed, and she raised her free hand back to her chest to grasp at it. "I... didn't either."