gattius-starfrost

[gattius-starfrost]

Welcome Home, Knight-Lord

The summons to Dr. Starfrost were hand delivered by a Blood Knight Master and their Adept in an envelope that not only bore the insignia of the Blood Knight order, but markings of classification of utmost importance. 

Dr. Starfrost - For your eyes only - Immediate attention required Your presence is required at the Hall of Blood tomorrow morning, one hour after dawn. You are to perform a physical fitness examination on a knight, as part of their reinstatement process. We trust that you will perform this duty to the utmost ethical standards as a former member of our order, and esteemed physician serving Quel’Thalas. Signed,  Knight-Lord Bloodvalor

Once the message was securely in Gattius’ hands, the two knights offered him crisp salutes and were immediately on their way.

The following morning, the streets of Silvermoon City were just barely starting to come to life. A gentle golden glow shone between the towering spires of the city. Knights and Farstriders had begun their morning training, merchants made their way to their stores and stalls, and those who had seen the sun rise were wandering home to retire for sleep. 

Dr. Gattius Starfrost was received by the two Blood Knights from the night prior, who led them to a small office room in the back of the Hall of Blood. It was an unusual request to summon a physician to the Hall, rather than send a Knight needing examination or treatment to a clinic. Whatever was happening was clearly of utmost importance to them.

“Right here, Doctor. We’ll be waiting outside.” 

Once inside the small office, a singular knight sat on a chair in the corner. Bereft of her armor and makeup, Ina’thia Dawnblade didn’t look particularly intimidating at first glance. With her arms crossed and legs stretched out in front of her, the black tank top and leggings she always wore underneath it revealed skin weathered by time and even more battles. Her hair had fallen flat and dry over the years, and she’d long foregone her usual dark kohl liner and red lips.

Upon realizing the door had been opened, she immediately stood up and leveled her gaze on Gattius. Ina’thia all but hissed, and the turbulent holy energies of her aura as a Blood Knight seemed to crackle in the air.

“I want a new doctor.”

“Oh, shut up.” Gattius groaned in response, as if already exhausted with her. “You know I'm the best there is.”

Gattius knew it could only be Ina'thia, even though the letter didn't say outright. He had heard the rumor the other night from Syrielle. Then, all the pomp and circumstance surrounding the missive's delivery. Knight-Lord Bloodvalor wouldn't put his name on an order to reinstate just anyone. And being summoned to the Hall, rather than the reinstatement case just be sent to his clinic? High profile and secretive. He hoped he was wrong. Maybe it was someone else. Anyone else. 

Nope.

Still, he stepped through the door and closed it behind him, resigning to his fate. He knew. Part of him resigned to it as soon as he got the letter. The rest of him was just catching up, now. He set his bag down on the small corner table, and opened the folder he'd been handed on his way in. It all could've been hallucination up to that point, but for some reason, seeing her name inscribed across the top of the examination form solidified everything else. 

Ina’thia Dawnblade was back. 

He stared at the form a moment. Just at her name, reading it over and over again– hoping maybe it looked like he was just reviewing her chart intently. His body moved ahead of him, hands digging his cigarette case out of his pocket to pluck one put and light it up. The familiar taste, the warmth hitting his lungs, all seemed to reel him back. His golden gaze lifted from the folder to look at her, now. Slowly, he exhaled a plume of smoke.

“Please state your name and date of birth for the record.” he instructed, all-business.

Ina’thia bristled at Gattius’s groaned response at her, quickly sitting down. She crossed her arms and slouched in the chair, pouting that this was the doctor that had been assigned to perform her physical. Gattius Starfrost, of all people. It couldn’t be some other rank and file Master, a spiritual knight who she pissed off years ago, or hell, even an Argent Crusader. 

No, it had to be Gattius. Former knight, former Captain, former lover.

She pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration, trying her best to push those thoughts from her mind. He could very well be the one obstacle that stood in the way of her reinstatement if he wanted to be vindictive, and she knew it. 

“Gods damn you, Bloodvalor,” she grumbled under her breath, then sat up straight. Just answer the questions.

“Ina’thia Dawnblade, July twenty-first.” 

Scribble scribble. Gattius jotted down notes on the parchment. The form wasn't anything he hadn't filled out a million times before. He checked a few boxes, and filled in some of the basic information he knew about her already, like blood type and the like. 

“Your last physical exam was over five years ago. Have you sustained any notable injuries since your last exam?” He asked, ashing his cigarette carelessly onto the floor beside him. “And were you seen or treated in the field or by any other physician in that time?”

His eyes remained fixed to the form. Voice monotone and interrogative, like he either didn't care… or cared intensely. 

Ina’thia shifted uncomfortably in her chair. Her fingertips dug into her bare arms, pressing into the muscles and skin marred by scars both old and new. Her ears twitched and she took a moment to breathe in the sweet smelling smoke of his cigarette. Light, she’d kill for one of those right now. But then she wouldn’t get promoted. So she remained sitting… begrudgingly so. 

“I was treated the monks and residents of Temple of the White Tiger at the Kun-Lai summit some six or seven years ago. Frostbite and exposure. Climbing that mountain is still an absolute bitch, by the way.” The knight exhaled sharply, catching a fleeting glance at Gattius before pointedly averting her gaze to the small pile of ash on the ground. 

“I was treated in the field with my own first aid and other menders I crossed paths with. Too many to count.” 

Scribble scribble. He took down more notes as Ina'thia shared the information. 

“Simple or routine mending, aye?” He asked, seeking clarification. “Nothing major, like broken bones or internal organs rupturing? Nothing requiring surgery?”

His tone leveled as he settled into the chair. Maybe the cigarette was doing its thing. Or maybe the routine of it all was helping him manage. It helped to have a focus of questions to ask, keeping him from asking his own. Like “what the fuck?”, or “how dare you show your face here again?” 

“Just papercuts from too much paperwork and bruises from stubbing my toe on desks,” Ina’thia retorted in the most sarcastic voice she could muster, and even threw in a very annoyed eyeroll at him for good measure. The end of her eyeroll met Gattius’s gaze and she quickly found a spot on the wall to look at. 

“My broken bones were set, the lacerations sutured and the burns treated with remedies both magical and herbal. You know that treating these things in the field can be unorthodox. No surgeries.” 

With another heavy sigh, she shifted her posture in the chair and slouched in it somehow even more. The enchanted lantern light in the room cast a deep shadow over her features, which were set into a deep frown with the whole experience at hand.

“Do you really have to ask all of this?”

“‘Patient declined examination, physician advises against reinstatement.’” Gattius retorted, equally sarcastic– quill moving, but the distinct sound of it scribbling on the parchment was notably, obviously absent. “Or maybe you'd like a different recommendation today, aye? I don't wanna ask them any more than you wanna be asked. But if we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it right.”

He gave a warning side eye; one well practiced over a couple years of fatherhood. Then, back to scribbling down– for real– a few notes from Ina’thia's responses. 

“Gonna need specifics on the breaks. Otherwise, I'll have to find them all manually.” he commented. “I think this is plenty awkward as it is, don't you?”

Something about Gattius’ response earned a concession from Ina’thia with regard to her sarcasm. Perhaps it was his own sarcastic remark in turn about not recommending her for reinstatement. Or maybe it was the stern side eye that he had given her. Either way, she sat up a little bit straighter and became slightly more cooperative.

“Dislocated my left shoulder. Broke several fingers in my right hand. Cracked several of my ribs on the left side…” To demonstrate, she held her left hand up into the enchanted light. Her ring finger had healed out of position, and leaned slightly to one side. “More bruises than I can count, but those have all since healed. Just like the other injuries. What else does that blasted form have on it?” 

“The usual.” Gattius replied shortly, whilst filling out more of the form. “Do you smoke? Yes… Do you drink? Yes… Is there any chance you may be pre–”

He let that question fall off, instead answering it for her without finishing. Most of these he knew the answers to already, unless something had DRASTICALLY changed. Then, he turned the page– rarely a good sign, and a guarantee that this was far from over. He scribbled a few more things down without asking for her input. Either not needing it, or knowing well enough already. 

Then… he sighed. He finally looked at her for more than a glance or narrow-eyed glare. Quiet. He ashed his cigarette, then leaned back.

“Where’ve you been?”

Ina’thia opened her mouth to answer his questions, but closed it immediately when he began answering the questions for her. At this point, she couldn’t help but wonder what the purpose of the questionnaire even was.

She leaned back as Gattius leaned back, and resumed her closed posture. Crossed arms over her chest, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. Her gaze once again was going to burn a hole in the wall between Gattius and herself.

“Is that like, an official question? Or are you asking off the record?” 

“Official. Gotta know for localized diseases, parasites, all that.” he replied, calmly. “Sounds like Pandaria, at least. Anywhere else outside Quel’Thalas?”

Ina’thia couldn’t help yet another eyeroll at the continued line of questioning. If hell was real, this was certainly it. “Pandaria, yes. I stayed in Kun-Lai, specifically at the summit and temples, for about a year. Maybe longer. After it was attacked, I joined up with other visitors of the temple to take the fight back to the Black Empire. Tanaris, Silithus, Uldum… most of Kalimdor, now that I think of it.” 

“Mhm.” Gattius nodded along… though didn’t look like he was writing any of that down. “And in the past year, were you sexually active?”

Another drag off his cigarette.

The hopefully soon-to-be-reinstated Knight-Lord nearly choked on her own spit at that last question. It finally caused her to sit upright, and she gripped her knees with her hands. Her fingers dug into the fabric of her leggings like claws. “What the fuck kind of question is that, Gattius?” 

He shrugged, and tapped the parchment wordlessly.

“You’re not writing anything down, though. Are you being an asshole just because?” Ina’thia threw her hands up in the air in frustration, then quickly crossed her arms again. As far as she could recall, this is about how their last interaction went. A fight. Both of them storming off. This time, there was no room to storm away. “Yeah, I was. Have been. There, are you happy now?” 

“I remember what you said. I’ll write it down, relax.” he scoffed, shaking his head.

Slowly, he began to inscribe… something on the parchment. Occasionally glancing to Ina’thia, then back to the page.

“... Kun-Lai…” he mumbled. “And… hm…”

He tapped his chin, before ashing his cigarette again.

“Is there an apostrophe in ‘Bey’ron’? I can never remember.”

“Look, Gatto –” the nickname rolled so effortlessly off of her tongue, it caught her by surprise. Nevertheless, she continued. “-- If you’re not going to be serious about this, then I’m going to ask for another doctor to do this examination. You know how to goddamn spell.” 

Ina’thia almost hissed, she exhaled her frustration so sharply. Her gaze leveled on Gattius, fueled by the anger she’d held onto in her years away.

“If you want to ask me questions, then fucking ask them. Don’t pretend to be filling out that stupid form.”

Gattius was expecting a reaction, sure– but still, he jumped as Ina’thia raised her voice. Startled enough that he dropped his cigarette. Just as well; it had burned pretty low. Straightening, he pulled out another, and lit up in a fluid, practiced motion.

“These are on the form, first of all.” he tapped the parchment again. “But fine– you’re right. Let’s set these aside for a moment, aye? Here’s one that’s not on the form; what the fuck, huh? Why’d you run off to that asshole Magister, then run off the face of Azeroth?”

He frowned. Deeply. Lips curled almost to a snarl. Casting aside all attempts to mask it, he just stared at Ina’thia with anger and pain in his eyes. He’d kept himself together as long as he could, to this point. Now, he wanted real answers.

It took all Ina’thia’s willpower to not march across the room and fling the parchment and clipboard out Gattius’s hands, and then punch him in the face. Doing so would all but destroy her chances at reinstatement, and so she kept her lips tugged into a deep frown as she rolled her head a bit to try and dispel some of the growing tension from her neck and shoulder. 

Her gaze remained leveled on his, matching his anger with absolute contempt of her own.

“Because you do this,” she gestured vaguely around her. To him, to the form, to all of this, “You get angry and jealous, and you let it fester by being an absolute passive-aggressive jackass before you finally explode.” 

Ina’thia exhaled sharply, finally breaking eye contact. She resumed staring not just at that one spot on the wall, but through it. 

“There was room in that relationship for three, Gattius. The kid showed up and it was time for me to leave. I’m not good with them, anyway.” It was a half-truth, but at least it wasn’t an outright lie.

It was uncomfortably quiet after Ina'thia finished speaking. The silence hung heavy and tense in the air. Gattius’ eyes never peeled from her, cigarette burning down between his lips. Less anger in his expression, replaced more with pain. Frustration, if anything else. 

With a sharp exhale, he turned toward the small desk and set the parchments flat on it. Ached his cigarette, scribbled down more notes. But otherwise, the silence sat a moment longer.

“Medically, no glaring issues.” He said calmly. “If the fingers bother you, I can get you the name of a good orthopedic surgeon out by Fairbreeze.”

He stood with that, and began to dig around in his medical bag. 

Ina’thia froze in the lingering, uncomfortable silence. One sidelong look revealed the pain and frustration in Gattius’s eyes and entire countenance, but looking back at the wall and ignoring it was far easier for her than continuing to confront it. She shifted in the chair, finally replying.

“Am I cleared for reinstatement, then?” 

“Yep.”

His response was exceptionally short, tone both defeated and uncaring. He pulled a stamp and small portion of sealing wax from his bag, and pressed it with an overly firm hand to make it all so. Then, carelessly, he tossed the stamp back into his bag and closed it up. The papers left laying open on the desk beside him as he turned to face Ina'thia.

“It was gonna be worse. I was daydreaming the whole walk out here about subjecting you to all kinds of needless and unflattering tests, today. Numerous blood draws just so I could stab your arm a few times. Planned to miss the vein a few times until your arm was black and blue. Undignified shit like making you strip down and put your hands up over your head, or touch your toes to inspect joint range of motion. Or a fucking colonoscopy. I came in here wanting to hurt you, Ina. Something close to how you hurt me.” he admitted, laying it all out. “But, just now, I realized I don't care. I used to care. I cared A LOT over the past seven years even through being mad at you. I worried the Magister had done some bullshit love spell to pull you away from me. I worried when I didn't hear from you for months and months that you got yourself killed somehow. I worried because I cared. And I cared because I loved you. But now, I realized you don't. You don't love, you don't care. Not nearly the same way. This was never gonna work, and it's not because of Tannis. It's because it was so easy for you to leave me, when I would've rather died than do anything but stay.”

Tears welled up in the corners of his eyes but by sheer willpower he wouldn't bid them to fall any further. He plucked the cigarette from his mouth and smothered it into the parchment beside him, before tossing the butt away.

“Welcome home, Knight-Lord.”

With that, he moved for the door.

Ina’thia threw her hands up in frustration yet again, this time standing as Gattius started for the door. Although she stood, she didn’t pursue. She stayed put, almost as if her feet were glued to the floor.

“Sure would have been fucking easier for us all if I would have died, wouldn’t it have been? I wouldn’t have to be doing this formality for reinstatement with you of all people, and I wouldn’t have to be doing this tour of trying to make amends with people,” she snarled and continued, raising an accusatory finger at Gattius.

“I was going to try with you. I was going to give you a full explanation, but I don’t think you could even see through your anger to believe any of it. Guess it’ll just be a mystery for the ages.” 

She rested her hands on her hips, then tilted her chin up to the door as a signal to leave.

“Good day, Doctor Starfrost.” 

Gattius stuck around for Ina’thia’s last word, but didn’t respond to it. Not directly, anyway. After he was “dismissed”, he simply rolled her eyes at her, and departed.

“‘Oh no, the consequences of my shitty behavior!’” he grumbled in a falsetto voice clearly meant to mock the Knight-Lord. “‘Sure would’ve been easier to die than to take responsibility for any of it!’ Boo-fucking-hoo… won’t argue with that, you miserable… …”

His mutterings grew inaudible the further down the hall he went, stomping and huffing like a tantruming child. But, to their credit, the Knight Masters guarding the door kept their bearing through it all.

[RP scene with @thefugitivemango] 💔💔💔

[gattius-starfrost]

Vanilla or Kinky? (For Gatto)

Gattius is all about the kinks, now. But he wasn’t always. In his youth, he was a mild-mannered vanilla Missionary-style loving elf. But the more he experienced, the more new and unique things he wanted to try. He absolutely hit the kink jackpot in marrying Syrielle!

[gattius-starfrost]

“H-Hey! No! No! No one look at this! Really? This is for ME!”

[[No but seriously, go an check out this incredibly saucy piece up on @kidcatgemini‘s Patreon! She’s my favorite artist, for sure! And while I won’t say that’s EXCLUSIVELY because of awesome pieces like this... they're certainly a factor... >.^ ]]

Syrie( @syrielle )got lonely on a business trip away from home, so she uses her magic to send Gattius ( @gattius-starfrost ) a bit of love ^_^  Support me on Patreon to view the full NSFW drawing <3

[gattius-starfrost]

A,L and Y

[A] Aftercare

If he can, Gattius loves a good post-coital cigarette! He generally doesn’t get the chance anymore, as Syrielle’s not a fan of the smell-- and as a rule, he doesn’t smoke inside. But he’s had partners and lived in places where that didn’t matter, and he’d happily light up after some serious satisfaction. Icing on a delicious cake!

[L] Location

Anywhere and everywhere! Gattius isn’t shy or picky! Hot, cold, rough ground or soft. He’s done it everywhere from underwater to a demon-infested frontlines! Even in zero gravity environments!

[Y] Yearning (how often to they think of sex, how long can they go without it etc)

Sex isn’t always in the forefront of his mind, but it’s never too far back! It’s hard for Gattius to go a long time without anymore. Though he’s not a stranger to months and months - even YEARS - without finding a good partner. Syrie spoils him too much for that, now.

Thanks for the prompt, @syrielle! ^^

[gattius-starfrost]

💋 How many people has my muse slept with? (Gattius)

Eight. But in the interest of their privacy (and Gattius’ pride) I won’t be listing them out in this prompt. Catch him on a Truth Serum prompt or something if you REALLY wanna know xD

Thanks for the ask, @kidcatgemini!

[gattius-starfrost]

Send in sexy pictures to my submit box, and see how my muse reacts. 

"--Hey, that’s the picture from my desk!”

Gattius held up the image of his beloved wife, Syrielle. He’d never known her to take a bad photo, but this was among his favourites! He had it framed and put in his office so he could always see her gorgeous smile. It sat right beside another picture of her holding their young son Tannis. It never failed to make him smile, seeing his loving little family there beside him in spirit. He gave the picture a quick kiss, before setting it back where it belonged.

“Love you, Bookworm.”

[gattius-starfrost]

Gattius rolled his golden eyes. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time he’d been mistaken for a woman. And he knew it wouldn’t be the last. The hair was always a factor, of course. He took pride in it! Washed it often, and kept it nice! But the other comment? Well...

... That was nice to hear, at least.

“Heh, it’s... it’s no problem. Really.” he nodded, looking the Draenei over. “But yeah, I’m a guy. And... like I said, married. So...”

Normally, even that wouldn’t have been a problem. But given a trend of bad experiences lately, Gattius and Syrielle had agreed to keep things like this just between themselves. For the best.

Another time, perhaps...

Frisky - Gattius and Raetos

“--Hey--ah--er... oh...?”

Gattius took another big swig from his wine glass. He hated Dalaran, but sometimes he had to stop by to pick up some of the more specialized medicine his patients needed. He only came into this lounge tonight to relax before heading home... not to feel some Draenei’s tail slithering up his leg!

“So hey, uh... listen, big guy, I’m flattered, but... I’m married.” he explained. “So, if you don’t mind moving your tail, that’d be great, aye?”

Thanks for the prompt, @syrielle! xD 

[gattius-starfrost]

“--Wait, sorry, ‘size doesn’t matter?’”

“... And it was like one time! Light!”

Dear Syrie, sorry my crazy ex-boyfriend tried to kill you. If it makes you feel better, his dick was tiny. Love, your Secret Admirer!

“Dear Secret Admirer,

I’m so happy you wrote this completely anonymous letter with not a clue as to who it could possibly be! You don’t need to worry about a thing, dear. Although, if there’s anyone else from your past that might have some motivation to try and kill me, a heads up would be more than appreciated. Also, size doesn’t matter. Though probably nothing compared to bedding a demon, I would think.

Much love,

Syrielle Starfrost”

[gattius-starfrost]

⌛️⌛️ each for Grakkar and Gattius

Grakkar:

What most people know is that Grakkar is a Warsong orc, native to Nagrand. What’s less known is that his old mate Neelah was a Frostwolf Orc! He holds a deep reverence for the Frostwolf clan due to this, and became quite torn during the Iron Horde days. He and Neelah were separated for a long time during the events of that war, until they finally met again for the first time since... on opposite sides of the battlefield! Seeing her on the enemy line caused him to abandon the Iron Horde in that moment. And such betrayal would’ve been punished... if it came to light before the Iron Horde was dismantled!

One of Grakkar’s first assignments upon arriving on Azeroth was to find a lost caravan running supplies up from the Crossroads into Ashenvale. He found the caravan had been assaulted by Kaldorei forces! He managed to fight off the remaining assailants, but the wagons and supplies were all, for the most part, destroyed. However, he rescued a kodo still tethered to one of the damaged wagons! The poor thing was terrified. Grakkar managed to calm the beast down, and set it free. And while he’s not the stealthiest nor smartest hunting companion, Kronk the Kodo has been at Grakkar’s side ever since!

Gattius:

His clinic in Eversong was not Gattius’ first medical practice. Before he became a Blood Knight, he was a wandering doctor specializing in house calls for the elderly and children-- though he treated anyone in need. Before that, he worked in Doctor Tannis Starfrost’s clinic for many years, paying back his honored mentor for taking him under his wing. His clinic now is the revival of that first job as a doctor he had, right down to the name! After marrying Tannis’ daughter, Syrielle, Gattius took on the family name and began practicing as the second generation “Doctor Starfrost”. It’s left him somewhat conflicted, however; he’s not sure he’ll ever live up to the name!

As a Blood Knight, Gattius rose through the ranks quickly due to his combat medic experience. However, in the latter years of his tenure with the Order, he struggled to attain the rank of Champion. At that stage, he felt the promotion system was far too political-- less about what you were capable of, and more about who you knew. In a somewhat self-defeatist mentality, he put off ever attempting to arrange his Champion Trial for many years... until he started serving under Knight-Lord Ina’thia Dawnblade. And while she stated she believed he was ready, their falling out led to him falling away from the Order almost entirely, and the Trial was never arranged. He still retains his rank of Knight Master, but now serves only in a Reservist capacity.

Thanks for the ask, @kidcatgemini! @syrielle and @inathia for mentions!

[gattius-starfrost]

🍸 "What's the worst thing about motherhood, Syrielle?"

Send 🍸+ a question and my muse will answer while drunk.        

“Ugh! Never having enough time to sleep and fuck. Gatto and I used to be able to spend our entire days off in bed together. Now? Sometimes I have to literally choose between sleeping and fucking! So OBVIOUSLY I’m not getting enough sleep.”

@syrielle @gattius-starfrost / @thefugitivemango

[gattius-starfrost]

Favourite sex position? 10: Have you ever been caught masturbating? 37: How much fapping is too much fapping? (For Gatto)

“Bah... so many to pick from! I enjoy it when Syrie’s on top, and has control. She’s got a knack for making sure we’re both enjoying ourselves that, frankly, I can’t compete with. So for the best of experiences, I like her to take the lead and get on top somehow. But other times... if I’m feeling an urge to go at her a bit more aggressively, I like getting at her from behind, y’know?”

“Hehe, more than once, definitely! Recently it’s been no big deal, aye? In fact, sometimes works out well for me if I start cranking somewhere I know Syrie’ll pop up. More often than not, she’ll join the fun. But there’ve been times without her, where folks’d catch me taking care of my own needs at just the worst times. Once or twice during Blood Knight training... and before then, a handful of times by Doctor Starfrost...”

“Hmm... as a medical professional, I can tell you as long as you’re keeping hydrated and nourished, the sky’s the limit on that. Just do it safely, aye? Outside biologically, I think you’d hit that ‘too much’ mark if it starts interfering with other things you ought to be doing. Working, or spending time with loved ones, y’know? Moderation’s good for all things - even jerking off!”

[gattius-starfrost]

The Attempt

(( Co-written with @thefugitivemango​ ))

Night fell over Starfrost Manor. The day’s tasks had all come to a close, and the normal occupants retired to their rooms. By now, most would be asleep… but not Alteris. He laid on the bed, eyes wide open as he stared at the vaulted ceiling. The room Syrielle and Gattius had prepared for him was nice enough. Cozy, well-furnished… but tucked away in a far-off corner of the manor. Windows shuttered, lamps kept dim. He didn’t feel much like a guest here. Not a welcomed one, anyway.

He sighed. That was the point, after all. He was laying low, keeping out of sight. It wouldn’t do well to have a room in the center of the manor, where people coming and going could stumble upon him by chance. The dim lighting and closed window kept the corner of the house looking uninhabited, too. It fit the illusion they were going for. Functional. 

But not fun.

He wondered if it would be possible to live here, and not hide. Some kind of enchantment, or altering surgery to look sin’dorei again. Gattius was a doctor, growing quickly in proficiencies. Alteration of that sort wasn’t unheard of, by medical professionals. If not, Silvermoon was full of studied arcanists! It couldn’t be that far outside the realm of possibility, could it? The prospect excited Alteris as he lay in his bed, dreaming about the possibility of being, for all intents and purposes, ‘reborn’. Not in the way that fool Nepen’thea brought him back. Not bound to anyone but himself! A new name, a new life, wandering about his ancestral home freely, able to do as he pleased… with whomever he pleased. 

Alteris’ hopeful smile turned to a frown - even if he could manage all this, his biggest obstacle would still be there. Syrielle would still be married to Gattius. At his side, keeping the two of them from ever truly being together. It would all be for nothing… if he couldn’t have him.

Keep reading

[gattius-starfrost]

Harboring Shadows - Part 2

(( Follows Part 1, found here ))

“Tell me something only Alteris would know.”

The Cryromancer’s emerald gaze flickered over Alteris, expectantly. She didn’t recognize him - how could she? He’d changed rather drastically since he was a Blood Elf, bound to a body of Nepen’thea’s design. There were days he didn’t even recognize himself! If only Gattius were here… he could vouch for him! But he wasn’t sure how much longer the doctor would be. And time was running out...

“Oi, might be tough, lass. I know a lot other folks dunnae.” he smirked cheekily, stalling for time to think. “But… aye, gimme a second. Head’s a wee bit fuzzy, thanks t’ yer brutish friend, there.”

Alteris looked Grakkar over. Where had he heard that name…? No matter. He had to focus. The ren’dorei struggled to think of something that would prove who he was. To Gattius, it’d be simple. But to Syrielle? He had no idea what she did and didn’t know about him. Or about Gattius… But it wasn’t the time to be cautious with information. She may have thawed him out, but she’d proven decently enough that she didn’t mean to keep him alive if he wasn’t who he said he was. Especially if she thought he were Sunborn. He wouldn’t blame her, either. Sunborn was a dick. But walking all the way back into Quel’Thalas again sounded tedious… he had to give her something.

“Alright, well… I know Gatto’s favorite drink’s whiskey. An’ he smokes, thanks t’ me. Got ‘im hooked back durin’ the Outland Crusade.” he stated, almost proudly. “An’ he’s got a tattoo on ‘is shoulder. Phoenix-lookin’ bird. Had it fer years.”

These were all things that came off the top of his head. He hoped they’d be enough proof…

Syrielle crossed her arms. The information he gave matched up. Either this was Alteris, or this was another Ren’dorei that had done his research. A frown remained on her features. Obviously she wasn’t convinced.

“Let’s pretend you are Alteris. What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be conducting… business… elsewhere.”

She made certain to leave out what ‘business’ meant. There were other ears in the room, after all...

“Oi, y’mean fuckin’ Gatto?” he shrugged - clearly far-less concerned about who heard. “Aye, normally we go someplace quiet fer that. But I ain’t ‘ere fer that.”

His smug smirk faded some, as Alteris shook his head. He sighed, heavily - coughing again a bit as a result.

“M’ situation’s changed. I need t’ lie low fer a bit.”

Grakkar’s face contorted in confusion. He looked to Syrielle, brow askew… but remained silent. Maybe that had multiple meanings in elf culture…? He’d have to ask Kai’eka later.

Syrielle’s ears twitched and she grimaced as the Ren’dorei so crudely clarified the word ‘business’. She let out a sigh, both upset that Grakkar had overheard, but also relieved that this was, in fact, Alteris.

“You can release him, Grakkar,” she finally said, “This one is a friend. And uh… not a word of this to anyone, yeah?”

It was difficult for Grakkar not to say anything in that moment. And while he didn’t utter a word… his expression said it all. He averted his eyes, awkwardly, from Syrielle, as he set to freeing Alteris. He gave the void elf a look as he unbound him. Alteris smirked back proudly in response. He felt vindicated at least - if this wasn’t proof enough, he knew Gattius would vouch for him once his work was done. As he was untied, he moved to stand up from the chair. He chuckled at Grakkar, noting the incredulous expression on his face.

“Hmph! Wot’s th’ matter, Orc? Ne’er fucked a lady’s husband b’fore?” he taunted.

A quick and strong hand thrust Alteris back into the chair, as Grakkar growled. He leaned in, teeth bare.

“Mind yourself, you little purple weasel.” he snarled. “She said you’re a friend… not that you needed all your limbs intact.”

Alteris only grinned wider. This Orc… was damn hot! He looked him over, lightly biting his lower lip as he did so. His face was… nothing special. But that muscular form, those tribal-esque tattoos, and that commanding presence he had… not to mention he’d managed to sneak up on him earlier! He nodded slowly, compliantly.

“Aye… whate’er y’ say, Muscles.” he winked.

Grakkar backed off, still snarling, and took position beside Syrielle. He didn’t fully understand what was happening, but he got the majority of it figured out. He was no stranger to meeting various needs outside committed relationships. This void elf was clearly some manner of vice to Doctor Starfrost… and Lady Starfrost seemed okay with it. Still, he didn’t like how this one eyed him up. It wasn’t sizing up for a fight… more sizing up for something else. He grunted.

“Quit looking at me.” he barked.

“Hard not t’, big guy.” Alteris smirked in response.

--Then it clicked. The name… he knew it from Kai’eka!

“Figured y’d be used t’ ren’dorei attention, aye? Seein’ as yer th’ one fuckin’ my sister, Kai.”

Grakkar’s shoulders sank. Eyes wide. He glanced quickly, wordlessly, to Syrielle… and the immediately away. Azeroth was too damn small…

Syrielle opened her mouth to ask Alteris to stop harassing her employee… but instead her jaw dropped and she looked over to the Orc. The way he snapped his gaze away awkwardly indicated that it was true.

“—err… you keep our secret, we’ll keep yours?” Was all she could think of saying. Clearly, she was in no position to judge.

She frowned, gaze turning to Alteris once more, “Wait… you mean the berserker woman is alive?! I thought she was dead!”

“--Aye, she died once.” Alteris grinned wide. “On that orc’s dick.”

Grakkar brought his face to his palms, sinking down where he stood. So much so, Kronk concernedly came to brush up against him. Ancestors, this was awkward! Alteris reveled in it, however, as he rose once more from his seat. He wandered back over to the bar, where his drink was still waiting for him. He felt rather securely in, at this point.

“Like I said, lass… I know ‘lot other folks dunnae.”

Syrielle brought a hand to Grakkar’s shoulder to give it a comforting pat. Part of her wanted to know exactly how he had ended up in bed with Alteris’s sister, but another… more wise part of her, told her to just let it be. She made her way to the bar, across from Alteris. Her fingers weaved in a specific pattern, levitating a bottle of arcwine and wine glass over.

“Want anything to drink, Grakkar?” She asked out of courtesy. He certainly looked like he needed it. She didn’t even wait for an answer, already pouring him a mug of ale now that she had her wine.“So, what’s going on, Alt? What’s got you running off to hide in Horde territory?”

The Void Elf looked Syrielle over, hesitantly. He felt no obligation to tell her anything, now that he’d proven who he was. She wasn’t exactly going to kick him out - she knew as well as he did Gattius would be more than a little upset if she did. His smirk grew a bit larger, before he took another swig of his drink.

“Long story, lass.” he shrugged the question off. “Suffice t’ say… I got nowhere else t’ turn.”

“Hmph. What of your sister?” Grakkar asked, as he took up the mug Syrielle offered. “Will she not take you in?”

“Heh, th’ only guy she’s been ‘takin’ in’ lately is you, big fella.” Alteris quipped - much to Grakkar’s displeasure.

The Orc growled lowly, drowning his anger in a large gulp of ale. He didn’t like this elf… not one bit! Alteris chuckled a moment longer at his witty wordplay, before sighing, and shaking his head.

“--Nah, but seriously… cannae turn t’ ‘er on this’n.” he vaguely explained further. “Won’t go inta detail… but I went’n pissed a lot o’ folks off. Includin’ Kai.”

He shrugged a shoulder, before taking another sip of his drink. It wasn’t exactly a lie…

“Gatto already said I could stay. Pointed me t’ ‘is lil’ passage inta th’ manor, an’ all that.” he gestured to the door through which he’d come. “Dunnae know how long I’ll be, but hopefully nae too long. Dunnae wanna… interfere…”

Try as he did, he couldn’t mask the disgruntlement with this situation. Specifically, with Syrielle. His tone betrayed it just a bit.

“I, uh… I know it’s askin’ a lot.” he added… for cover.

Syrielle raises an eyebrow, but took a drink of her wine. She highly doubted that Gattius would make a big decision like that without consulting with her first, but she didn’t feel much like arguing.

“We’ll do everything we can to help you out, yeah,” she finally said, “My only concern is this: do the people coming after you know to look for you here? I’m all for providing you with shelter, but we have a son to protect. I just need to know if I should be ramping up security measures or not.”

It wasn’t something Alteris considered, really - he expected the Coterie would know well enough to check here for him, given his history with Gattius. But at the same time… it felt too obvious a place he’d go. Kai’eka knew him well enough, from the last time he ran out on her. She didn’t find him for years after that. Surely she’d find searching Quel’Thalas for him to be a waste of time. Hopefully. Besides… if he could hide amidst Gattius’ shining Light before, he could do it again!

Either way, telling Syrielle seemed like a bad idea. One that could cost him his little hiding place… And he simply couldn’t afford that.

“Doubtful.” he shrugged, casually. “Folks think I’m dead. They won’t come lookin’ fer me. Jus’ need t’ keep outta sight fer a few weeks. Couple months, maybe. Let ‘em mourn an’ move on, y’know?”

He almost felt bad, lying to her. Almost.

Syrielle nodded, swallowing down another gulp of wine. She doubted Alteris would do anything to bring harm to Gattius and his family. She didn’t know him well, but her husband did, and that was enough for her.

“If that’s the case, it shouldn’t be a problem at all. I’ll let the staff know you’re here so that you can move about the manor, though if any of my co-workers drop in, you’ll have to stay out of sight, yeah?,” she twirled her glass as she made the to do list in her head, “I’ll have one of the spare bedrooms ready for you tonight… —Ah, unless you prefer sleeping in our room? Our bed is pretty big.”

Of course she couldn’t pass up making that offer. She gave him a playful smile. Gattius would no doubt roll his eyes at her if he were there.

"--Light, I leave you alone with him for two minutes…" came a voice familiar to the trio.

Gattius emerged from the door leading to his clinic. He looked frazzled, worn down from stress not only from working so much, but also thanks to Alteris' surprise visit. He did indeed roll his eyes at Syrielle, letting his half-quip hang as he went for the bar. If was only about lunch time… but the doctor needed a drink.

[gattius-starfrost]

The Walk-In

The clinic was as busy as it usually was; not terribly. But as Gattius still hadn’t found any help to hire, doing even this regular workload of both administration tasks and administering the actual medical help was overwhelming, to say the least. He could feel himself growing more irritated, going from patient to patient, between exam rooms and the front desk, all without a break to even take a breath! 

Anger turned to worry, when quiet moments allowed it; had he bitten off more than he could chew? Without help, would the clinic ultimately fail? Should he cut back on the days they opened, or was that a death knell for his small, independent infirmary? The first step to the inevitable closing of this unfulfilled chapter in his life…?

Today, the dread and anxiety hang over him more than usual. So much so, he had already left his next patient waiting fifteen extra minutes as he tried to gather his composure and desire both before stepping into the examination room. If he could just get through today… 

'Light give me strength…'

His faux smile found his face, finally, as he exhaled a quiet sigh, and opened the door.

"Afternoon, sorry to keep you waiting." Gattius bowed his head apologetically as he entered, eyes still scanning over the chart in his hands. "You mentioned you had some 'skin and eye discolorat--eeough for fuck's sake!"

Snapping quickly, Gattius tossed the chart as he looked up, and slammed the door behind him in a hurry! Before him, atop the exam table, sat a ren'dorei. Not just any ren'dorei, either…

"Alt, what the fuck are you doing here?!"

“Oi, voice down, lad!” Alteris loudly whispered. “Dunnae wanna give me away, do yeh? Not after I worked so hard sneakin’ in ‘ere!”

Alteris grinned his usual smug grin - half proud he’d slipped past all of Eversong’s defenses, half reveling in Gattius’ reaction. As much as he loved coming to see his dearest companion, he took pleasure in making his life a bit more ‘interesting’ all the moreso. He hopped down off the exam table, and approached the blood elf.

“Wanted t’ apologize properly fer missin’ our last rendezvous.” he explained, bringing his arms around Gattius’ waist. “Think I owe yeh somethin’ fer that, aye?”

“--No! This is hardly making up for it!” Gattius scowled in response, pushing the void elf back from him. “I’m way too busy for this. Not to mention this is way too dangerous! If someone sees us here… I could lose everything!”

'Not that I probably won’t anyway...’ he thought to himself, the concern resurfacing in the moment - only fueling his agitation. This was the last thing he needed today… another stressor. Another source of worry. Another problem to solve. With an irritated huff, he grabbed Alteris’ wrist and led him to the door. Slowly, he opened it and peeked out. The hallway was clear.

“This way! Hurry!”

Without delay, he dragged Alteris from the examination room and down the hall - crouched down, stepping lightly, as if he were infiltrating an Alliance camp! Alteris did nothing to help keep a low profile, however. His steps were naturally light, of course, but he didn’t seem nearly as concerned at being sneaky as Gattius towed him around the Clinic. Almost like he wanted to be found! He didn’t, of course, but it irritated Gattius more this way.

“--Oi, ease up!” he feigned a whine, smirk still plastered to his face. “If’n ye wanted t’ rough-handle me, better done back there on th’ exam table, aye?”

“--Shut up!” Gattius hissed in reply.

He shoved Alteris into a room at the end of the corridor, and closed the door most of the way. The Blood Elf glanced over his shoulder once more, cautiously, before sighing. He looked to Alteris.

“Alright… this is my office. There’s a door that leads out behind my desk, there.” he explained in hushed tone. “Follow it into the Manor, and wait for me there. Don’t touch anything!”

Alteris glanced around the room a bit, before smirking at Gattius.

“No time fer’ a quickie, then?”

The door shut quickly in his smug face.

The ren’dorei sighed, smirk fading fast. That… wasn’t as fun as he’d hoped. Agitating Gattius was always interesting, but this time it wasn’t nearly as satisfying. He grumbled to himself, as he turned from the door. Gattius had changed, he’d noticed. Back in the day, he wouldn’t pass up a chance to shirk duties and have a quick ‘spar’ atop his desk, or back in the examination room. Now, it seemed he was all business. He didn’t like it. 

He looked around the office, finding further confirmation of how Gattius had changed. It was so… orderly. More so than was normal, as Alteris recalled. Gattius was a neat individual, keeping things in relative, passable order. But this office was pristine. Alteris felt like he’d stumbled into some kind of museum. A monument to the most droll elf to waddle across this mortal plane. Hanging nearly and squarely on the walls were numerous certificates and degrees, documentation of Gattius’ medical proficiency. The Thalassian script was so excessively curvy and elegant, it looked like a child got hold of a quill and discovered how to draw circles. 

The bookshelves were almost artificial in appearance, each book flush against its neighbors in height and protrusion. He wouldn’t have been surprised if half of them were empty, simply aesthetically-pleasing filler to-- no, apparently not. He pulled a random book from the shelf and flipped through it. The script was so small, each page packed with medical jargon and biological babblings. The ren’dorei sighed once more, as he slipped the book back in place, leaving the spine sticking out just a bit in mild defiance. 

The desk was, comparatively, the most cluttered aspect of the room. But even then, it was still rather well kept. Quills and inkwells were arranged neatly on the right side, with files and documents all sorted in upright organizers on the left. A few stray parchments sat in the middle of the desk, clearly needing to be worked and filed away later. Alteris tugged at a drawer - locked. How boring and unlike Gattius! He almost wanted to break into the drawers to see what was hidden within… but if his office was this boring, he couldn’t imagine anything of interest was tucked away in the desk. Likely more files, if he were to wager a guess.

Then he noticed the picture frame.

His pale hands clenched as he glowered at the picture. A heartwarming portrait of a familiar face holding a small infant. Syrielle and their son, Tannis. Alteris scoffed, as he lifted the frame from the desk. It wasn’t that unusual, having a picture of family on one’s desk. The implication, however, was what irked Alteris so. He could just imagine the Blood Elf leaning back in his chair after a busy day… and smiling at this inanimate painting of his family. Gleaning a spark of joy from looking at his loving wife’s bespectacled face, and finding the strength to carry him through the remainder of his mundane medical practitioning… 

It felt like a gut punch. One last nail hammered into the disturbing realization. Gattius wasn’t at all who he once was. So organized, so driven, so family-oriented. Alteris clenched the picture harder, feeling the wooden frame begin to crackle from the straining. How he wanted to smash it! This was her fault after all! He’d watched it all from within Gattius’ mind. His descent from the exciting, fun-loving elf he once was into this… this domesticated buzzkill! It wasn’t hard to see who was responsible for his transformation, either. She’d tamed him… ruined a perfectly appealing elf. An elf he loved deeply. And it made his blood boil.

He set the picture down - face down, in another act of defiance - before heading for the side door Gattius mentioned. This office only depressed him. He hoped the manor would be more exciting for him. 

The corridor was narrow; hardly a grand hallway. But it served its function in connecting home and office. Alteris padded down until he came to the opening. The manor was silent… but breathtaking. He’d been here before, of course - snuck in once or twice, and even beheld it through Gattius’ eyes. But seeing it for himself, without any fear or need to slink about silently… he could appreciate it fully. Specifically… the bar. His eyes were drawn to it immediately. Bottles upon bottles, lined from floor to ceiling on glass shelves. He grinned widely, rubbing his hands together as he examined each label. 

His feet carried him behind the bar without a second thought or hesitation, as he picked one out - an exceptionally appealing whiskey in a rather cubic-cut glass bottle. Dwarven-distilled… definitely in his tastes! He popped the stopper, and began to pour himself a glass-- when something shook the room. The glass bottles clanked lightly together as heavy steps trudged into the room. Alteris quickly ducked down behind the bar, holding as still as possible to not give away his position. What was it - a construct? An Arcane Golem? He knew Gattius had upped his security as of late, but this seemed… excessive! Slowly, he peered around the side of the bar… and saw a kodo?

He blinked. Then blinked again. He couldn’t have been seeing things… he hadn’t even had his drink yet! Sure enough, there was a kodo in the house! He stood slowly, eyeing the beast carefully. What was it doing here? Did Gattius know it was here? Was this some kind of pet? The kodo glanced to Alteris, and lowed in a friendly manner. Alteris smirked - he was… kinda cute, actually! He came out from around the bar, and reached out a hand to pet the beast. The kodo trudged over to meet him, merrily nuzzling his horn against Alteris’ outstretched hand.

“Oi, friendly fella, aren’t yeh?” Alteris smirked. “Wot’s yer name?”

“His name is Kronk.”

Alteris turned quickly towards the grizzled voice that suddenly came from behind him - an ambush? A trap! He reached for his blade-- but was suddenly caught. A meaty hand clenched about his neck, and lifted him up off the floor. He gasped and wheezed, legs flailing as he clawed at the hand which gripped him. His eyes blurred, but he could make out the face of his abettor. An Orc, and an ugly one at that! He resisted as much as he could, before the Orc reeled back his free hand… and drove his fist into Alteris’ face. He blacked out instantly, going limp.

The Orc scoffed, grip loosening slightly. He thought to squeeze tighter and be done with it, but… he presumed the Lord and Lady of the house would have questions.

“Come, Kronk.” he grunted. “Let’s find Lady Starfrost.”

~*~

(( @syrielle​ for mention /  Desk Art Link ))

[gattius-starfrost]

💋 - Syrie & Gatto

Send “💋” For a gif of how my muse would KISS yours.

[gattius-starfrost]

Neck kisses or shoulder kisses? (Gattius)

Gattius definitely prefers neck kisses - both giving and receiving. It’s a much more intimate and loving gesture than shoulder kisses, by far. That sensitive, ticklish feeling adds to the excitement!

Thanks for the question, @kidcatgemini!

[gattius-starfrost]

Paladin: Does your character have an oath, a mantra, or a code by which they live their life? Do they ever defy this code, and if so, what are the consequences? For Gattius.

Not unlike the real world’s Hippocratic Oath, Gattius has taken an oath to use his medical knowledge and abilities to help those in need, not cause them harm. It’s much less formal and universal, and more a promise he made to his medical mentor, Doctor Tannis Starfrost. As the world changes around him, he’s become somewhat more selective concerning to whom it applies, and whether or not helping someone like an enemy combatant could mean more harm down the road should that enemy once again beset upon his people or allies. He has not broken this ethical mantra in all his years practicing medicine - the consequences of doing so would be terribly shameful and dishonorable for him.

Thanks for the ask, @kidcatgemini!