#khadgrin

Oh she is well! She took some time to recover (from TWW) in the Arcantina, heheh. Though she returned into action recently! She can't stay still for long -w- (She's also on my Tomodachi Life island chilling haha)

(Been a long time since I made one of these for @drew-winchester​. Sorry for the absence, been learning how to write better with drabbles from some friends here. I hope you are doing well yourself! As an apology for going dark, here’s an AU for our favorite elf as a high elf! Had me thinking for a bit, so I hope you enjoy!)

For @drew-winchester and @haleth -- normally I’d go more traditional and write a ghost story for Yule, but it’s been a tough year and I thought it best to be wholesome instead :3

And, I got inspiration from recent posts! So I hope you enjoy, and have a wonderful holiday season!

A great fire burned in the hearth; orange tongues dancing and rising up from logs enchanted to burn for weeks on end. Karazhan’s great hall had been decorated to magnificence, with ribbons and streamers and great pine trees with baubles and lights--

    The staff of apprentice mages had already gone off to their respective corners of Karazhan to relax and read and look through the gifts they got. In the great hall, amidst the library stacked with endless tomes, one particular tree stood by the hearth, smaller but somehow the brightest in festivity. A large fuzzy rug had been set down on the cobblestone, and in front of the fire, two couches had grown extremely comfortable and well-worn.

    The morning’s jubilation had died down to a humming sweetness. Khadgar silently thanked the Gods that Anaël and Avalon had outgrown getting up at the crack of dawn and tugging on their sleeping parents to see what Greatfather Winter had gotten them. In fact, Perry had giggled to Khadgar as they’d gotten up that morning, it was now the parents who had to pounce and rouse their children!

    They’d all gotten up in a timely fashion, prepared themselves as much as they wanted, and gone down to see a set of presents miraculously transported under their Winter’s Veil tree where last night there’d been none. Despite being “adults” now, Anaël and Avalon had both squealed with joy and rushed down the large stairs to the couches and the gifts. Khadgar smiled, shaking his head and looking over to Perry, about to ask if she wanted him to get tea--

    --only to have her tugging on his arm excitedly too to rush to them.

    The gift-giving had been marvelous; few as the gifts had been to each of them, they were all dearly longed-for items. Robes, stuffed critters, reagents enchanted to be ten times more useful--and to regenerate once used up, candies, chocolates, fictional books, non-fiction books, a new set of arcane tomes for Anaël, a new chi-conducting staff for Avalon--they all found exactly what they wanted.

    Khadgar lulled back on the couch, smiling softly and watching his family. In a few hours, they’d have to start tidying up; Karazhan hosted a party of most of the mages throughout the whole continent, if they could make it, and had ever since the Council of Six had approached Khadgar with the idea a few years back. He’d deliberated, but said yes; it gave everyone another chance to mingle and chat and be merry, regardless of their faction or views. And that was what Winter’s Veil really felt like it should be about.

    But, in the hours leading up to it, there was a truly blissful quiet where there were absolutely no cares in the world.

    Avalon rushed about the vast hall, practicing and twirling the staff around giddily. Anaël sat cross-legged quite close to the fire, bent over the first of the arcane set with wide eyes. Khadgar chuckled softly, arm around Perry on the couch.

    “They’re lost to us, I think,” he murmured, nuzzling against his wife. No reply. He glanced over, seeing that she was lost in the pages of Elise Starseeker’s newest book.

    He laughed softly to himself, leaning his head back and sighing blissfully.

    A sudden, fuzzy feeling came down around his head, and he opened his eyes to find Avalon grinning above and behind him.

    “Merry Winter’s Veil, Dadghar!”

    She leaned down, hugging him tight, and he patted her arms.

    “Merry Winter’s Veil, my cute little murloc.”

    Avalon giggled. “Must you still call me that?”

    Khadgar grinned. “If you’re still calling me ‘Dadghar’… now what on Azeroth is on my head?”

    Perry glanced over and grinned brightly. “Greatfather Winter!”

    Anaël looked up, blinking then grinning as well. “He’s already given us our presents.”

    Khadgar wrinkled his nose, looking to Perry. “It’s one of those hats, isn’t it, dear?”

    She giggled and kissed his nose. “Maybe!” Khadgar sighed, bemused.

    Avalon vaulted over the back of the couch and landed on his other side, smiling up at him. “I think you’d be a great Greatfather Winter! You’re already charitable, and you’re fun, and you could get one of those large white beards and it’d be great!”

    Khadgar laughed. “I could GROW my own beard!”

    Avalon made no comment, simply smiling up at him.

    Perry cuddled up closer to his side, her head falling on his chest, quite warm and comforting. She kissed his jaw.

    “You’d be a great Greatfather Winter, I think. At least keep that on through the party; we’ll see what the other mages think!”

    Khadgar chuckled again. “It’s red clashing against my blue and grey robes; I can expect some smirks.”

    “Oh, it’s Winter’s Veil, Bubbly!” Perry said, beaming. “It’s a ‘festive’ look.”

    “Uh huh.”

    A bell rang throughout the hall and Avalon vaulted backwards over the back of the couch. “I got it!..” her voice echoed back to them and she was already darting up to the door.

    Khadgar looked down at his wife. “You really think I’d be a good Greatfather Winter?”

    “Yes!” Perry said, still beaming up at him before lowering her voice to a faint murmur. “I could sit in your lap, tell you what I want, thank you for your gifts--it’d be wonderful.”

    Khadgar blushed lightly and she stole a kiss from his lips. “And,” she said, “I could get to dress up as Greatmother Winter! Couple costumes.”

    Khadgar laughed, managing a faint “oh nooooo..!” Perry laughed with him.

    “Bro!” Avalon called from the door. “Meera’s here!”

    Anaël shot up from his seat on the rug, wobbling slightly and knocking his fists on his legs to try and wake them up. Despite his attention being pulled from the tome’s secrets, he still looked wide-eyed--in fact, Khadgar thought bemusedly, even more so. The young man brushed his already-tidy hair back, smoothed his crease-less robes out, and started on quickly towards the door.

    Khadgar and Perry both scooched around in their seats, watching with faint smiles.

    Avalon hummed and trotted away, twirling her new staff around again and practicing strikes against imaginary foes. Anaël helped a young Night Elf woman inside and shut the door against the cold winds and the heavy snow. Meera shook off as much as possible, but it was obvious she was cold. Anaël helped her peel off her coat, exposing a very pretty--if not all that heavy--dress-robe beneath, and they stood chatting with shy smiles in the doorway.

    “Anaël,” Greatfather Khadgar called out, “bring her on over to the fire to warm up!”

    Anaël blushed and escorted his girlfriend over. Avalon grinned, ears twitching to hear all the conversation, though she still danced around lithely, testing that staff.

    Meera sat down on the rug near the fire, still shivering, smiling politely. “Hello s-sir; ma’am.”

    “Oh, dear,” Perry said, glancing to Anaël as he joined his lady on the rug, putting a warm arm around her. “You know you don’t have to be formal. Khadgar, now’s a good time to give Meera her gift?”

    Meera blinked. “My..?”

    Khadgar smiled and nodded. “Anaël, if you’d be so kind? You’re already down there; let my old knees rest, huh?”

    Perry bit back a laugh. “You’ve used that line every single Winter’s Veil since your hair turned white to make me bend down to get the gifts, dear.”

    Khadgar blinked innocently.

    Anaël fetched from under the tree a parcel marked “Meera” from “Greatfather Winter.” She looked up at Khadgar, with his Winter’s Veil cap on, and smiled. “Th-Thanks,” she said.

    Khadgar blinked, then felt up on his head and sighed, bemused. Perry giggled into his shoulder. “You’re welcome. It’s from all of us; mostly from Greatson Winter there next to you. He made it.”

    Avalon came over again, watching with a smile as Meera opened her gift and pulled out a deep blue cloak lined with thick white fur, back designed in ultramarine and sparkling cobalt to look like the night sky. Meera looked up at Anaël, a blush starting to steal over her features, and he carefully reached around her, wrapping the cloak up nice and warm around her body.

    “B-- Because you’re as beautiful as the night sky,” he mumbled. “And it gets windy here, a lot; and cold, so I wanted to make sure you were always warm.”

    Meera’s blush deepened. She glanced shyly at Khadgar and Perry and Avalon, who all pleasantly looked away at nothing, before she wrapped her arms around her boyfriend and kissed him long and soft.

    “That’s an interesting carving up there, dear,” Khadgar commented mildly, pointing up at a section of stone high up and in the furthest direction away from the young lovers as possible. “See it? The gargoyle face?”

    Perry laughed. “Bubbles, that’s just a chip in the stone!”

    “Are you sure, now?”

    Meera handed Anaël a small wrapped box. “It’s-- um-- uh, my-- would you mind if we opened it more in private?” she asked, glancing at his family.

    Khadgar smiled, glancing back at her. “Not at all, dear. Our home is your home.” He looked to his son. “No doing anything I wouldn’t do!”

    Anaël blushed. Khadgar harrumphed. “Exactly!”

    “Dadghar,” Avalon asked mildly. “Aren’t those books you gave An the same as that set you broke into the Dalaran library to read?”

    Khadgar cleared his throat loudly. “NO… they were sitting out on a table! In the section I happened to break into.” He grinned, looking from his daughter to his son. “Point is, go; shoo. I get it; go enjoy your Veil together.”

    The young lovers blushed, moving off through the hall and upstairs. Perry sighed blissfully, cuddling up tighter against Khadgar, glancing back over the couch at Avalon.

    “How’re you liking the staff, honey?”

    “It’s wonderful, ma!” Avalon said, twirling it again, then paused, looking at them and smiling. “And I’ll go wish the apprentices a merry Winter’s Veil.”

    She started off towards the door out of the hall. Perry blinked, glancing to Khadgar. “Did I scare her off?”

    Avalon stopped in the doorway. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, you crazy kids!” She giggled, exiting.

    Perry rolled her eyes, blushing as a bemused smile hit her features. “Ah.”

    Khadgar shook his head, wearing a similar smile, and held her in tighter, hand coming to rest on her hip.

    Perry moved a leg over his, nuzzling against his neck then kissing it. He shivered, and she paused, moving up and kissing his ear softly…

    “Dadghar.”

    She giggled and nuzzled back in at his shoulder. He let out a loud, over-dramatic sigh, and she laughed harder.

    Things settled and the fire’s crackling filled the hall again, so very pleasant.

    “Mm--Khadgar?”

    “Hm?”

    “Tell me a story?”

    Khadgar looked at her. She smiled up at him, eyes shut--opening to look up sweetly into his. His other hand moved to her cheek, one finger stroking it softly.

    “Marlon was dead, to begin with--”

    Perry laughed. “Nooooo! A different story! You read us that tome last night--you always read that tome each Veil’s eve! I could recite it at this point!”

    Khadgar laughed. “But don’t you want to hear about how a tight-fisted money-loving old Goblin changed his ways again, dear?”

    Perry stuck out her tongue. “Something OTHER than the tale of Mr. Scruge and his ghosts, please.”

    Khadgar sighed, bemused. “Fine--fine…”

    He blinked, then paused, going silent. Perry waited, looking up at him.

    “Did I ever tell you the story of my first kiss?”

    Her ears perked up.

    “No…”

    Khadgar glanced at her shyly. She looked up, expectant. He held the pause.

    “Oh, go on! Please!”

    He grinned, and started:

<*>                    <*>                    <*>

    Winter had poured out all its snow onto the earth, but still more rained down from the skies. The streets were full of revelry and cheer; banners were hung proclaiming celebration and good-will to all. On each street corner, different groups of friends were singing with all their worth, expecting neither money nor even a crowd; just wanting to do it.

    I was--oh, I was a lot younger, back when my hair was still brown. I remember distinctly that the day had been strange; I’d actually forgotten that it was Winter’s Veil proper despite so many people excitedly awaiting it. Many of my friends were out and away, celebrating with their families or having traveled in groups somewhere else for the holiday. I, meanwhile, had gotten up like any other day only to find my employment shut and the winds quite cold, even with carrying such sentiments of mirth.

    I think I spent most of the day reading. I hadn’t bought myself any gifts; I was saving up my gold in case of emergency, and for the future of finding a more independent home-life with a family. But, books were entertaining, so I spent almost the full day reading.

    That night, however, there was going to be a grand celebration at the center of the city. There’d be a huge feast, rounds of carols around the massive great-tree they’d picked out that year, and I had a friend who was supposed to meet me there. So when it got a lot closer to that time, I wrapped myself up in a scarf and heavy clothes and I went out.

    My friend did meet me there, but the large crowd made her rather shy, and so we clambered up out of the way and sat on the deep windowsill of a building, high on the second story. A few people asked if we were all right and needed help down, but we replied we were fine, and as there was no real commotion or alarm on our part, nobody paid us any more mind.

    I don’t think she’d ever really enjoyed--or even celebrated--Winter’s Veil before. She had this look the whole time like everything was brand new and the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen. We had a wonderful view of the tree and appreciated its exquisite ornamentation, even at the highest layers.

    I can’t honestly remember anything either of us said to each other, though we talked most of the evening and night.

    And then suddenly it was late, and I realized we had to get going. The crowds were starting to disperse beneath, and we had to get back to our homes and rest. And I realized too that I really didn’t want her to go. My hand covered hers, and we both paused a moment, looking into each other’s eyes, and just--kissed.

    Her lips--oh, they were like heaven. They were so soft; so pure. It felt so fragile; like if I kissed her any deeper, she’d crack like a porcelain doll. And yet with that fragility; us just barely touching together--my heart raced faster than anything more passionate could’ve done. That fragility was as tender as either of us could ever be, in that moment, and we both were.

    I don’t think we even said goodnight, after that. We just held hands walking home, and waved, and I know I went to bed not long after but couldn’t sleep at all, staying up thinking about her and how much I wanted to spend all my lifetime with her.

<*>                    <*>                    <*>

    Khadgar blushed, his voice soft, and he glanced down at Perry again. She blushed too, biting her lip.

    “That sounds… remarkably… like my first kiss, Khadgar…”

    “Does it, now?”

    He smiled softly, and she put a hand to his cheek, drawing him in against her and kissing him again with that fragile tenderness, so light it barely touched… then again, deeper, aching to let him know all her heart’s desires to be near him.

    Hours more passed in sweet, pleasant loving.

    They lay quietly together on the rug, a pillow propped up for their heads. Perry petted his chest slowly, working her fingers in circles along it. He smiled, petting her side, and they both listened to the crackle of the logs in the hearth. Still half an hour until guests--

    The bell rang for the door.

    “I’ll get it!” Avalon called out, sprinting through the hall, pausing long enough to see her parents poke their heads up from the floor.

    “Old people,” she muttered, shaking her head before getting the huge door, squealing happily at whoever it was.

    “Uncle Momo’s here!” she called out.

    Móshù, a large dark-furred pandaren mage, poked his head over the couch to the host and hostess on the floor, waving politely and holding up gifts. “Are we all celebrating this year lying down on the rug?”

    Perry giggled. “It IS a comfortable rug…”

    The pandaren mage grinned. “Sorry to be early; I forget the time differences from Pandaria to here.”

    “That’s perfectly fine, Mo,” Khadgar said, hoisting himself up to sitting, the top Winter’s Veil hat flopping over onto the back of his neck, “we’re just glad you could make it. Do you need help with your coat, or any--?”

    “I got it, I got it!” Avalon said, helping the pandaren out of his traveling gear. Perry sighed.

    “Ava, my darling, please don’t try and spar our guests this year…”

    Móshù grinned. “That’s quite all right, Miss Starfallen; I’m perfectly happy to spar your daughter and comment on where she needs to improve!”

    Avalon narrowed her eyes playfully. “As if you’ll score even one point this year!”

    Anaël and Meera came downstairs, his hair a bit more tussled-up than before. “Who is it?” Móshù waved, grinning heartily, and they waved back.

    Perry sat up as well. “So, can we see Meera’s gift to you now, An?”

    Anaël paused and blushed lightly, then moved over to his parents. Avalon bounded over too, curious. From his neck, Anaël pulled on a chain, bringing a locket out from underneath his robes, opening it to show a beautifully-painted portrait of Meera and a tender phrase handwritten in Darnassian.

    Meera blushed, still a little further back, standing and quite lovely in her cloak. “So that he always can see me if he wants, even if he’s far away doing work,” she murmured.

    “It’s beautiful,” Perry murmured back, motioning for Meera to come closer. The younger elf did. “Who painted it?”

    “I know he doesn’t take many commissions, but I wrote Mr. Remor a letter and he replied that he’d be happy to.”

    Khadgar blinked. “Kaskaeld Remor?”

    She nodded.

    “Huh,” Khadgar mumbled. “Winter’s Veil’s spirit touches us all, I suppose.”

    The bell rang again for the door, and Avalon sprang to it with glee. Khadgar sighed and looked to his wife. “Time to get up and celebrate.”

    “Oh, poor us, that we must celebrate with our friends!” she giggled, accepting his hand as he brought her up into his arms. He paused, holding her there a long moment.

    “What?” she said, blushing under his loving gaze.

    “Just--how on Azeroth did I get so lucky?” he said softly, the fire blissfully wavering along his handsome features.

    Perry smiled, moving her hands up his chest and around his neck. “Something made you not afraid anymore to kiss me up on that windowsill, my dearest. Everything seems to have snowballed out of control from there.”

    Khadgar grinned. “What merry chaos this is, then. I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Year 33, a few weeks after the Forsaken and human meet in the Arathi Highlands.

A candle served as the only light filling the dim room cloaked by the dead of night. Khadgar remained in the position he’d taken up many hours ago: quill intensely scratching upon parchment, ink spotted across the surface, an already sealed pile of scrolls building up on one side of the creaky desk. The chill from an open window crept in through waves of cold breeze, clinging onto the damp, bleak bricked walls of the circular tower but the Arch Mage didn’t even pause to give a shiver. His hands must have ached from the amount of writing he had produced over the course of the evening and now into the early hours. “King Anduin Llane Wrynn, highest regards upon you…”, “Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner, warm greetings…”. Endless streams of words strung together were printed in a messily handwritten flurry, the urgency of the matter boldly stated in his hurry to send them out. Khadgar was not naïve. This was his final effort to prevent an all-out warfare, a precedent that was at its breaking point.

quand tu retrouves un gribouillage que @drew-winchester t’avait aidé a faire, pour un petit Khadgrin, fait sur fond de compilation année 80.

(the tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiime of my liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiife)

(click for higher quality) yes I was lazy with the background...also young Khadgar! because I love his design

(warning; bad english)

“so... what did you say what this is...?”,Peregrin asked, looking doubtful at her Food. The young Nightelf has never seen something like this before. “crispy spider surprise.“, Nayla said with a calm voice. „B-but that’s not… from a real Spider…right?“, Khadgar asked hestitately. He seemed more nervous about this. „I mean… these Spiders here are…kinda.. poisonous.“ „don’t worry. I worked on this with a special Sin’dorei recipe.“ „Sin’dorei?“, Peregrin looked at the Draenei with wide eyes.  Nayla smiled, her mind drifting away to nostalgic memories. „An old Friend teached me.  He was actually a Sin’dorei,  Arelion. Crazy man. I …kinda miss him.“,she paused for a second  “…anyway…it IS made of Spiders….Spider Legs to be correct.” “oh dear…”,Khadgar whispered to himself. Illidan glimpsed at Khadgar, amused by the nervous mage. “afraid? Of Spiders?”, the Demon hunter had a smug grin. Khadgar’s face turned red. “n-no! Geez!” “Don’t you mock him! If you are such a brave guy then take a bite!”, Nayla hissed. Peregrin seemed amused by that and already ate her crispy spider. “See? She’s braver than you guys.”, the Draenei grinned,pointing at Perry. “now eat up. We still have a long way to go.”, Nayla said and got up. “have you ever tried Bowels ‘n’ Brains? Worst shit ever. So don’t you talk bad about my Spider meal.” Short silence followed. Everyone was looking at Peregrin who already ate her portion.”what?it’s…actually pretty good.” She said smiling.

Dear Perry, I hope my letter finds you well, probably wrapped up in a blanket with a book in your little room of which I am jealous of right now. I am waiting on another merchant caravan heading back the way I came through to Loch Modan and Thelsamar to set out.  I get the feeling Bez initially thought I would be an easy mark but, I stand corrected.  He introduced me to the head merchant of this caravan earlier today.  They are supposedly the fastest caravan through the Burning Steppes and the safest.  Though, I have to say this information doesn't fill me with optimism.  

From Thelsamar We will pick up a Dwarven guard detail.  I am ever hopeful they won't be called to arms on our trip.  Apparently the only way through on foot, once again I can hear you saying "I told you to learn to ride a griffon," is through The Searing Gorge. From there it's a four day march along the King's Highway through the Burning Steppes.  If all goes well, I should be in Lakeshire before next week.

Anyway, the master merchant of this Caravan is a quiet dwarf by the name of Brann, not the renowned explorer sadly. Either way, he seems rather nice and incredibly well-read from what I can gather.    He spoke more on the guard detail.  Lead by his daughter no less.  Nasslyn,  I can only hope she and her troop are as good as her father claims.  Well, there is only one way to find out I guess.  

I will post this when I get to Thelsamar, and I hope to send you another letter from Lakeshire before long.

To my shining Star,