She'd always struggled with addiction - ever since the fall of the Sunwell, when they'd all known the pangs of an addiction that had long been perpetuated on... what? An arcane, and metaphysical level? Lily didn't know the inner workings of it all - just that she'd done what so many other Quel'dorei had... and she'd turned to fel. She'd turned to the Blood Knights, as well, to try and... look like a proper noble. That's what you did in times of war, was it not? Both had been terrible, life-altering decisions. Plenty of other Sin'dorei had gotten their shit together, with time... but not her. The hunger had been mightier than her - but at least when they'd been at war, there was always something louder than the addiction. There were always more demons, more orcs - another campaign on the dusty, red planet.
Perhaps her addiction had been channeled into the wars she fought, as it wasn't long before they had taken the war to Arthas, himself - again, there'd been no time to dwell on anything else. There were hordes of killer undead of all kinds, dragons... and more snow than she'd ever cared to see in her lifetime.
But then, she'd stepped down from the knights afterward - unwilling to fight in a pointless war against the Alliance - and had donned the Crusade's tabard. She'd 'retired' after having been barely old enough to serve as a soldier, initially - and what was left? Naivete, to be sure - she'd known little of life's harsh realities before war, and then... all she'd known was war - but war is not a school for everyday life.
No one wants to hear war stories from a pretty, young noblewoman, though. No one wants a virtuous young paladin around who rains on the parade. No one wants to hear how the need for more magic still crawls under your skin; how it's all you can think about. How no amount of drink, no amount of drugs (that you're willing to take), will quiet the burning need. And... who wants to talk about that kind of shame?
Look pretty, drink up, smile, have fun. Don't harsh their mellow.
So, she'd made the choice not to be a burden - she'd simply suffer the addiction quietly, as a noblewoman should. Everyone had been so happy with each other, and so busy building their lives - and the man they'd worked for had had issues of his own. Who was she, to burden the lot of them with her inability to cope with her own addiction?
Hindsight wasn't always so clear - should she have told them? Confided in someone? Most likely. Perhaps in dealing with the root of the issue, so many other issues never would have happened; perhaps in dealing with this one troublesome issue, they'd never have needed to help her with others. Maybe, even, Xannivard would never have tricked her into burning all those bridges, and becoming who and what she was now.
But with all that said - with all that behind her - Lilliana saw no reason to change now, however. Despite Eryth's worried looks...and more than one concerned talk with the drake, she'd concluded that... where she'd been trying to prepare herself to get clean, before? There was no point, now. After what that demon had put in her body? What was the point of temperance - why bother? He'd altered her beyond the scope of mortality. What sort of drugs were bad for a demon, after all? Or someone who was mostly one?
She'd considered, in the early days, the thought of trying to have herself cleansed...but why? There were no promises that it could even be done without killing her. And who would she be doing it for? She missed the Light, sure, she ached for it - but she loathed it, as well. When she'd needed it most... the Light hadn't been enough to spare her the things that haunted both nightmare and fantasy now, thanks to that gods-forsaken demon.
The more provocative the drug, the better, now. The stranger the concoction, the more enticing - why not? What - and who - could hurt her, now? She had the emotional and physical scars to show for her suffering - and so why shouldn't she chase the next-best-high? Few things could alter her state of mind all that much, for all that long, anyways...it was like eating and eating, and never really feeling full; perhaps it was only right that an addict should become a creature of unending hunger.
...But she had a daughter, now. That...that thought brought her back from the edge, some nights; that thought brought her back from Club Nathrezim, or her ship...hells, even when things had gone awry in the Shadowlands...the woman might have stayed there, if she hadn't had a daughter in the land of the living. She couldn't recapture what had been taken from her, couldn't undo her mistakes, couldn't apologize to people who mattered, or punch the ones who didn't - she couldn't change what she was, or what she'd done... but she could do her best not to make mistakes where this girl was concerned. She could practice temperance, even if only for a little while, if it meant time with Caitiri.
In her, there was hope that cut through the noise of the hunger. In her... there was innocence as yet unblemished. Untapped potential. This little girl could grow up and be happy, even... and there was nothing Lily wasn't ready to do, to make that a reality.
