#almost done with legion mate... i am in severe pain always

[foxceus]

misc cfv doodles from twitter as i finish up my rewatch (≧ڡ≦*)

[devsash]

Unexpected Meetings - Part 3

A collaboration with @tindomielsilverthorn

(Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 4 / Part 5) / Part 6 / Part 7)

Lion’s Rest, Stormwind City, afternoon

Mehe sat on the wall behind the memorial to the fallen human king, facing out to the sea. He gazed at the sunlight reflecting off the surface of the water with a contemplative air. His anger had mostly faded though the hurt still remained.

Tindomiel walked up to the memorial. She looked around, and not seeing him, she almost moved on. But she felt the tug of pain nearby, so she decided to go down to the lower area behind. As she rounded the corner she spotted him. Unsure if he would speak to her, she decided on something a little unconventional. She had been trying to learn a Thalassian love song for Ælithil and Niquisse’s wedding. She thought it would be a nice surprise. So she walked out to the edge, looking out over the water. Though her voice was clear and a beautiful, her pronunciation was a complete disaster.

Mehe's ears twitched. He blinked at her in surprise, but did not interrupt her song.

She finished and sat down, watching the water below.

Mehe peered at her out of the corner of his eye. "What language was that supposed to be in?" he asked at last.

Tindomiel laughed. “I guess that answers my question then. I need work on my Thalassian, don’t I?”

"Hmm." Mehe returned his gaze to the water. "Damn good voice though."

“Thank you,” she responded softly. “Mehe, I am so very sorry. And Anas asked me to tell you he is as well.”

He grimaced, shifting slightly. "You've nothing to be sorry for. He knows he should've told me."

“May I come sit with you?” She tried to sound comforting, but she was weary.

Mehe nodded his permission. Tindomiel moved closer and settled next to him. “He feels terrible for not telling you. He thought it was best, but I think he knows now that it was a mistake.”

Mehe's expression remained neutral, though he knew he could not stay angry with his mate for long. "I only wanted to protect him," he said quietly.

“And that is the noblest reason you could have for what you did. He told us why you have the views you do of the Ren’dorei. Mehe, I am so very sorry for how you were treated.”

"Hmm." Mehe glanced at his talon. "Did he tell you everything?" About my search for my family? Surely Anas wouldn’t do that.

“I doubt that. He told us they promised you they would look into the Void and recover pieces of your past. And that they only gave you hints and instead studied you.” She looked over at him, her eyes sad. “He didn’t even elaborate when Niqi asked about you not knowing your past.”

Relief washed through Mehe. "I see," was all he said.

Tindo sighed, feeling him relax a bit. “Was it Umbric that did it or were there others?”

"Umbric mostly." Mehe's lip curled in disdain.

“He fooled a lot of people it seems,” she offered gently. She watched him carefully, waiting to see if she’d pushed too far.

He remained silent. What was she trying to say? That the other Ren'dorei were duped into following that bloody magister?

“Niquisse and her several times great grandfather were among them. Gilræn was a tutor and was asked to join to assist in translations and reading of ancient texts. What they were to get in exchange never happened.” Her voice held a note of pity. “She was there because she was curious. Because she wanted to learn.”

Mehe peered at her. Could it be true? Or is she just taking that Ren'dorei girl's part because she’s to wed this woman's nephew?

Tindomiel stared at her hands. She was so very tired. But she wanted to be sure that if he returned to the shop it would be with curious questions, not venom. “The Kaldorei cast out the People that would become the Quel’dorei. All because of fear of the arcane. That fear faded over time, but then some of your people turned towards the use of fel energy to quell the thirst. So again, everyone was blamed for the actions of a few.” She spoke softly, trying to sound apologetic rather than lecturing she hoped to fel it was working.

There it was. The old injustice done to his people, even to him once unknowingly by the man he now called his mate. Anas had meant no spite all those years ago when he asked if Mehe had taken the fel, yet Mehe had wronged him by assuming malice behind his curious words. And now, if what Tindomiel said was true, I’ve done the same damn thing by the girl.

His lips tightened as he lowered his head, glowing tendrils twining with each other. "Was she very frightened?" he asked softly.

Her gaze was gentle and she kept her voice soft. She had gotten through a little. “Yes. She... she grew up sheltered from the world. She is ill prepared for things like this. Anas is helping her navigate the whispers.”

Mehe still remembered his own terrible struggle against those bloody voices and their insidious whispering. The girl never asked for this to happen to her, but she’s now forced to fight the same demons. His pale blue eyes flickered towards Tindomiel. "She's in good hands," he said in a neutral tone. "Anas is very capable at focusing and fortifying his mind against the whispers." I should know. I trained him myself.

“She plans to quit her job at the shop though. He only tonight gave her her first lesson. But I could feel her guilt and worry. Unless he convinced her otherwise, she won’t be back.” Tindomiel sighed. The girl had a fire in her to keep trying to succeed. But she wouldn’t hurt her friend.

"Hmm." Mehe returned his gaze towards the harbour, watching the general hustle and bustle as he pondered this information.

“Have you ever lived in a port city?” she asked. As the words left her lips, she winced. He might not remember. Don’t ask stupid questions. She kicked herself mentally for it.

He shrugged. "I've never lived in any cities for very long."

Tindomiel nodded. “You miss the quiet and peace of nature.”

He nodded in agreement, remembering the serenity of the Eversong Woods. She smiled wide, saying nothing. He glanced at her, his brow furrowing. "What are you smiling at?"

“You will have to speak with Anas. But I think you will like it.” She chuckled. She had no intention of telling him. She wanted it to be a happy conversation between the two. “Let’s just say...I planted a seed.”

Mehe raised an eyebrow at that. What seed? What is she talking about?

As a breeze blew in off the water, she closed her eyes. She leaned back, a heavy sigh escaping her lips. “Anas is a kind man. You are very lucky to have him.”

"He is." Mehe absently flicked a tendril over his shoulder. "I didn't mean to make you cry," he said, gazing out at the horizon. "I'm sorry."

Tindomiel smiled, but kept her eyes closed. “I know it wasn’t your intention. Very strong emotions are...very difficult for me. The tears were the result of me fighting myself shutting down.”

"You can't stop it from happening? Stop yourself from feeling all these emotions?"

“I wish I could.” Her voice was touched with regret.

Mehe regarded her silently. Having to live with an ability like that doesn’t seem even remotely like a blessing.

“I try to use it to help people. You asked me when we met if I try to help everyone. The answer is yes. But not everyone is willing to accept it.” She was sitting very still, her eyes closed, taking long slow breaths. Her hands were resting on the tops of her thighs, palms up and relaxed.

"Sounds exhausting," Mehe remarked.

“You have no idea,” she whispered.

She’s probably right. "What is your husband doing these days now that the Legion is no more?" he asked.

Her eyes snapped open, tipping her head to the side. “Still hunting. While the Legion is gone, there are still demons to be removed. Along with the felsworn.”

He nodded, expecting as much. "You were both on Argus?"

She smiled slightly. “I promised him I would always stand at his side. If his sacrifice to become a demon hunter meant he had to be there, that’s where I was.”

Mehe bowed his head. That was what he had always wanted for himself and Anas, but the war between the Alliance and the Horde had made it impossible... until now. "How did you two meet?"

A look of peace tinged with embarrassment spread over her features. “We met in the Moonglade. I had left my family home to study as a Druid. He was there already. I was terribly lost and he helped me find my way.” Her voice grew soft. “He has always helped me find my way.”

"You were a druid?"

“For a time. Before the choice was taken from me.”

"My Anas wasn't given a choice when they told him to step down," Mehe said softly.

Her head whipped around. “They what??”

Mehe peered at her solemnly.

“Why would they do such a thing to that gentle soul?”

"He couldn't channel Elune's Light anymore. Only the Shadow and the Void." His lips thinned. "So the clergy put him on indefinite leave from his duties."

Tindomiel covered her mouth, her eyes horrified. “Oh gods...I owe him an apology.” She looked back towards the Mage Quarter.

"Why?" Mehe's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

“I... I told him that Elune sees what he is doing and is proud of him for his kindness.” She hung her head, completely at a loss.

"Perhaps she is." Mehe shrugged. "I'm no bloody authority on what she likes or doesn't. But Anas would still appreciate what you said."

“Oh, I hope so. I left right after saying it. I thought it would bring him comfort. I had no idea that Elune’s light no longer flowed through him.”

"It probably did bring him comfort, just not in the way you thought it would."

“I really hope so. How cruel to have it all taken away. Was it a dream of his?”

Mehe nodded. "Something he always wanted." He sighed, recalling his mate's sadness whenever he was reminded of his loss.

Tindomiel’s ears fell low. “I will apologize to him then. I know that pain far too well.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as old dreams flared back to life. She wiped them away quickly.

Mehe blinked at the sight of her tears. "I've upset you again. That wasn't my intention."

Tindomiel shook her head. “No, it isn’t you. Some memories are just difficult. I wanted to be a Druid so very much. And it was finally in my grasp. And it was taken from me along with...” She sniffled. “It’s nothing. I understand his pain.”

"Hmm." Mehe's tendrils curled, betraying his discomfort at this display of emotion. Should I speak? Remain silent?

She wiped off her face. “Forgive me. I did not mean to do that. I don’t mean to cause you to be uncomfortable. It’s been a difficult day.” She took shaking breath. “My birth mother was a cruel woman. She did not like my association with my husband. She had me essentially kidnapped. I was lied to. Made to believe the man I loved was dead. He was told the same of me. I was forced back into the priesthood.”

"Why would she do that?"

“What do you know of Kaldorei society? Of rank and prestige?”

"Almost nothing," he said with a shrug.

“In Kaldorei society, there are essentially tiers. The higher tier, the greater the prestige, the more important you are in society. More respected. One of the things that raises that prestige is the ability to procreate. My birth mother wanted me to have children. But with the right males. Males of her choosing. Males from Great Houses.” She shook her head. “At the time, Forosuul did not know of his lineage. He was an orphan, raised away from society. Undesirable in her eyes.”

Mehe listened, carefully storing the information away for future reference. "So she broke you two apart?"

“She tried. She had the captain of her guard pull me from Edrethas. The woman had some of Forosuul’s things with blood on them. Including his eye patch. I learned after, they paid the High born there to lie to him when he came looking for me. They told him that satyrs had broken into the library and killed me.” She shook her head. “It would be four years before we were reunited.”

Sounds familiar, Mehe thought, his lip curling as he recalled Sheronda's attempt to separate himself from his mate. "It's good that you found each other again."

“It is. And when we did, that’s when I made him that promise.”

Mehe nodded his understanding. "The faction war kept me apart from my mate for years."

“I am glad that you no longer have that worry. Though I know the change has been difficult for you.” She pulled her long silver braid around to the front and began to undo the plait.

Difficult was an understatement. "I don't belong here," he said, grimacing. "This city, the people..." How am I supposed to simply forget that they were once my enemies and would have sooner seen me dead? "Who the bloody hell does Umbric think he is anyway?" he muttered. "Pledging us to the Alliance without so much as a damn 'by your leave.'"

“It wasn’t him,” she said, fluffing out her hair and running her fingers through it.

Mehe blinked at that. "What do you mean?"

Tindomiel sighed. “Alleria went to Silvermoon. She pleaded on behalf of all of you to be allowed back. There was an incident at the Sunwell. She, all of you, were banished to prevent corruption of the sacred site.” She looked at Mehe apologetically.

Mehe did not glance at his taloned finger. "I know why I was banished," he said in a cool voice. "I need no further reminder of it. As for Alleria, she has even less of a right to speak for us. Where was she when that bloody Arthas and his minions murdered my people and defiled our kingdom? Where was she when we starved without the Sunwell? Where was she when our prince betrayed us?" He shook his head scornfully, his tendrils writhing.

Tindomiel stared out to the sea. No matter how she tried, she seemed to fail this evening. “I did not mean to imply that she was correct. Many people have failed your kind over the millennia. She, in this instance, did at the very least try to do right by those who were changed by Umbric’s hubris.”

Mehe glanced at the woman without expression. He said nothing, though the agitated twisting of his tendrils betrayed his anger.

“Mehe, I am so sorry. I cannot undo what has happened. I can offer you friendship. But I have not the ability to fix what never should have occurred.” She was wincing under the waves of anger pouring off of him.

He knew what she was saying. He understood no one could change the past. He turned his gaze away from her and took a deep breath. He was not angry with her, just with what had happened. He was annoyed though. Does she really think I’ve no idea why I was banished?

She sighed heavily. Sliding down off the wall, she regarded him sadly. "Would you prefer I go?"

"You may do as you damn well please."

“That wasn’t what I asked you, Mehe. I asked what you would prefer.” She pushed the question, feeling that it was perhaps a key to some of his anger. “People seem to forget that you should have a say in the matter.”

Mehe blinked, her statement giving him pause. He found himself unexpectedly at a loss for words.

Speaking  softly, "People have, haven't they? They've not allowed you to have a say."

He peered silently at Tindomiel, his expression carefully guarded. She waited quietly, giving him time to decide. "Stay," he said simply before returning his gaze to the horizon.

She leaned against the wall, a faint smile on her lips. "Hmm," she said, the tone was happy, but soft.

Mehe pondered her words. She's right, isn't she? Everything that happened was out of my hands. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. "How did you know?" he asked softly.

She chuckled lightly. “You told me. Though I don’t think you meant to.” She looked out to the sea, the calm ripples making an excellent focus. “Everything you mentioned a few minutes ago spoke to things you could not control.”

"Clever of you to figure it out."

"Well, it comes with many years of practice. When forced to deal with others emotions, you have a couple of options. Become a hermit," she shrugged. "Or you can learn to push until you find the real problem."

"Hmm." It made sense. But, of course, it did not have a ready solution. Returning to Quel’thalas was out of the question, no matter how much he wanted to. And living outside the city would mean being parted from his mate, which he could not bear. "Anas is the only one who's there for me now," he said, more to himself than to Tindomiel.

Looking up at him, a small frown set on her lips. She took a deep breath. “I’d like to help. If I can. I know we’ve only just met but, I would like to think we could become friends.”

He gave her a shrewd look. "Perhaps," he conceded. Having someone other than just Anas to talk to was a nice prospect. "Can you teach me to speak Common?"

An enormous smile wrapped across her face. "Mehe, it would be my pleasure."

He nodded. If he was going to be part of the Alliance, it would be a useful tongue to know.

Tindomiel smiled. "I should probably go back to the shop and gather my things. I would hate for Anas and Niqi to get in trouble if those skins start to smell.”

Mehe nodded again. "I will remain here for a time."

"Will you be all right?" she asked gently.

"I will be fine." He just needed some time alone to think about what she had said. "Shorel'aran, Tindo."

"Elune guide you, Mehe. Anas has the address if you need to send word to me. Be safe... my friend." She bowed to him and began her walk to the shop.

He watched her for a moment. A damn interesting if puzzling character, that one. Opening his pouch, he withdrew the herbs he had gathered and began sorting them out, mulling over Tindomiel's words as he worked.

[actualpanda]

The Unsettled Present

(Featuring Tahkagar and his family - I meant to write more about Tahkagar a while ago, as well to level him, and...well, something else happened. Namely, I fell in love with elemental shaman and started leveling a new character >_>)

His thoughts were cool and collected. It was a warm evening on the fields of Nagrand, and for Vak’ha Marshblade, warm evenings meant many things. They could be the last calm period before a thunderstorm that lasted several days and nights, or the warning of a dust storm about to hit the plains. But tonight, this warm evening meant the old shaman of the Warsong clan mused and meditated on the world. He sat, legs folded, and listened to the ever-present hum of life in the world around him.

There’d been a time, not so long ago, where he had not known the plain as home. Where the world he knew had been reduced to a swamp, with massive stalks and hidden caps concealing the very stars. Where the slightest misstep might spell disaster, where the first wrong choice one made that day could well be the last decision they ever made.

The sound of a waterfly’s hum, just a few inches away from his ears, did not distract Vak’ha from his thoughts of the past. The present was ever at his fingertips, and the future remained to be shaped… He chuckled. A few years ago, the notion of ever becoming a farseer, of living long enough to become one, would have been patently absurd.

There was a tickle in his mind – a sensation of a language that had taken him years to learn, to speak, to understand…and to be understood, for understanding without being understood was somewhat frivolous. Especially so, considering his calling meant that he dealt with ancient forces that had been around since the very forging of the world.

After a few moments, he understood the meaning of the words. This was followed by the sound of his name on the wind, the dry rattling of the reeds of the nearby streambed. Then the air cooled...

Vak’ha chuckled – he knew that influence well.

As he stood, his meditations complete, he knew that he would be graced by the presence of his son. The wind offered to carry that name back – but Vak’ha politely declined that offer. Some things were best done in person, after all.

…

When Vak’ha arrived back at the small home that his mate and he occupied, just outside of the small settlement, he saw that quite a few things had changed. For one, there was the smell of freshly cooked food, though it was different. Like it had originated from another world entirely. That wasn’t unusual; here in Outland, many things had changed over the past few decades. There were other places beyond this one – whole new worlds. Ethereals often came this way, other times, it was the Draenai, and still others, completely different beings. Vak’ha had not seen many of them.

Within the home, Inari sat, his life-mate’s brown eyes carrying a warmth that he knew well. It was the kind of warmth that was only present when their son returned home. There was still ferocious strength in those eyes, but Inari was at peace. The year she had spent beyond Outland had changed her in many ways.

Perhaps I need a year beyond Outland myself. Vak’ha suppressed a chuckle. As though he would leave Nagrand of his own will... This place was home, and it would always be so for him. Then again, Inari had felt the same way and she had left for a time to find her own road, hadn’t she?

Tahkagar sat on the ground, cold wafting off of him. The Ice Wolf had returned home, and he was heavier still through the gut than the last time he had returned. At the sight of Vak’ha, he stood at once and met his father’s eyes…before embracing him.

Despite the fact that his son was cold to the touch, Vak’ha wrapped both arms about his son’s chest and hugged him fiercely. “Ice Wolf.” He murmured. “You are back.”

Tahkagar didn’t flinch, but instead relaxed. He chuckled as he softly stepped out of the hug a few moments later. “You’ve added weight too, I see.”

“I have!” Vak’ha chuckled. “I took your advice from the last time. Was it…six months back?”

“Seven months and ten days.” Tahkagar said softly. He was the kind of person who never forgot such things. “I am glad to see you well.”

“Beloved.” Inari’s voice was deep. “Our son has news.”

Tahkagar nodded, sitting down once again. Vak’ha sat near Inari, his mate’s hand coming to rest on his broad shoulders. “Well…” Vak’ha murmured. “What has changed in the world, Ice Wolf?”

This made his son chuckle. Ice Wolf was a nickname, though it accurately described his son’s nature. But then the chuckle faded, Tahkagar’s expression becoming severe. “…the Legion that turned our people into the thralls of the demons has returned to Azeroth.” His voice was soft. “Many hundreds have died. Perhaps thousands.”

“Tens of thousands?” Inari’s voice shook.

Tahkagar shook his head. “I hope not, but I do not know the scope of the destruction. I only know that they have returned. And as it always does, suffering has followed in the Legion’s wake.”

“…you could have sent a messenger to tell us that.” Vak’ha murmured quietly.

His son raised a hand. “I could have, yes, but there is more than just that. I felt it important enough to tell you in person. The Legion has returned, but Azeroth has not fallen. You remember the demon hunters, yes?”

Vak’ha’s lips formed a decisive frown. “…those who fight fire with fire.” He murmured. At Tahkagar’s quizzical look, Vak’ha chuckled. “The wind has not forgotten them. What of them?”

“They have returned to fight the Legion. Others stand with them. The Alliance and the Horde…”

Inari huffed in annoyance, and Tahkagar’s voice trailed off. He always allowed his mother to speak. “I do not understand why they would keep that name.” She said, her voice low and cold. Almost as cold as the magic her elder son possessed. “Go on.”

“Saurfang has taken charge of matters.” Tahkagar’s voice was a murmur. “He leads the defense of our people in Azeroth now.”

“Wait…Saurfang leads?!” Inari’s voice rose in tone and shock. She had been there, though – the day that Garrosh Hellscream’s reign over the Horde had ended. A new leader had been chosen. “What of Vol’jin?”

The way her son paused in his speech indicated that he was greatly hesitant to say what had happened. But under the blazing fire in Inari’s eyes, he relented. “The Horde and Alliance met the Legion on a distant island.” He spoke softly. “They fought the Legion, but were turned back. Vol’jin was mortally injured.” He met Inari’s eyes. “He died several days later.”

A harsh cry tore from Inari’s throat. Vak’ha closed his eyes tightly. That his wife grieved the loss of this Vol’jin meant that they had likely met – and that his mate had been greatly impressed. She had not mourned as such when word of other deaths, even of her own family members, had reached them.

Then again, Inari’s family has always misunderstood her. And myself. He clenched a hand into a fist.

“We did not know.” Vak’ha murmured softly. “I am pleased you felt this news important enough to deliver in person.”

“It has been largely suppressed.” Tahkagar said in return. “The Legion delights in chaos.”

Inari’s voice returned to her, though it was with soft efforts to suppress the grief in her heart. “I will go back to Azeroth with you.” She said in a determined tone. “The Legion must be stopped, and I cannot do so here.”

Vak’ha’s heart raced. No! He at once closed his eyes. His family was going to fracture again. Jangvir, their youngest son, was in Shattrath – and he barely spoke to Vak’ha these days. His road had become even more painful to walk.

But his mate had always been a woman of action. From birth, she had been a fierce member of the Warsong clan – perhaps one of its fiercest warriors. Was it so wrong to want peace for her, though? They had waited out the Burning Horde in the wilderness of the Zangarmarsh once…

His thoughts were interrupted as his son spoke. “If you are certain that is wise…” Tahkagar began.

Inari raised a hand, her eyes blazing. “It is.” She said quietly. “What good is the peace we know, if the suffering of others continues?”

It was the sort of point that she had raised time and again. Vak’ha had no answer at all for his mate in such things. She was right – to know peace while others were being tormented and hounded by the Legion was an absurd notion. Inari Marshblade had always been a fighter.

“You would not alone on some sort of a one-woman crusade against the Legion, mother.” Tahkagar chuckled. “There are a lot of people fighting them.”

Inari stood at once, her mind clearly made up. “Good.” She said firmly. “I shall see if others have the fighting spirit that I do in the village before I go.”

Before Vak’ha could raise a hand, Inari met his eyes. The twin fires of ferocity and determination danced in her gaze. “This home will stand when you return, beloved one.” Vak’ha murmured, standing up.

A quick embrace later, and his life-mate had left their home. She didn’t ask Vak’ha for his blessing – but then again, Vak’ha Marshblade knew his mate well. Once she’d decided, her mind could not be dissuaded from such a thing.

There was a part of him that wanted to be swept away at how quickly the world around him had changed. The part of him that knew better refused such, however.

“Did you come so that your mother would go to war, son?” He asked, a tremor coming to his lips.

Tahkagar met his father’s gaze, then stood. “…no.” He answered. “And yes.”

“Explain.”

His son’s heavy belly softly rose and fell as he breathed, thinking his answer over. When he spoke, his voice carried his mother’s determination. “Mother is the fiercest fighter I know. She is proudest when she can make a difference for the better. And I have seen the Legion myself.” He held up a hand softly. “I have fought them. They are powerful, but they are not invincible. They can be stopped. They have to be.” He met the eyes of Vak’ha once again. “I did notice you did not attempt to stop her.”

Vak’ha chuckled dryly. “Stop your mother? Perish the thought. She’d have cracked my elbow and left me with a bruised skull for trying.” He sighed heavily. “But she cannot, will not, stay here.” He smiled suddenly. “You have given her a good reason to leave!”

Tahkagar seemed more than a little surprised by the smile.

“You know…I’m rather glad you came back.” Vak’ha nodded swiftly. “She’s been looking for a reason to go back to Azeroth, and I think she was happiest there with her friends. The monks of…Pandaria?”

Tahkagar nodded, indicating that Vak’ha had said that word correctly. “She was happy, yes.” He said softly. “I think when she sees what has happened to them, her resolve will be heightened.”

“They were also attacked by the Legion?”

“Yes.” Tahkagar answered. “They are some of the fiercest combatants against the Legion.”

Vak’ha snarled something under his breath. The Legion would find a way to ruin the lives of those who had helped his mate find the kind of peace that had eluded her for years.

“If the Legion wanted to destroy their spirit, they failed.” Tahkagar continued. “There was…something else I wished to ask you. It’s the main reason I returned…until I came to the village and found that many had no idea what had happened in Azeroth these past few months.”

“You are a mage, but even you could not slip away from the conflict until it had become more controlled.” Vak’ha murmured.

Tahkagar huffed a breath through his nose and nodded. “Things have been chaotic these past few weeks. We have a measure of peace, but I do not know how long it will last.”

“Which is why you needed mother to help secure that peace." Vak’ha raised a hand. “I will note that you did not ask me to help there.”

“I didn’t.” Tahkagar’s voice was quiet. “I need your help. Or rather…a very good friend of mine does.”

Vak’ha buried the urge to laugh. Tahkagar was an orc through and through, and proud though he was, he had issues with just asking his father for things. He kept his tone serious. “And during the middle of a war with the Burning Legion, what sort of help might your friend need?”

Tahkagar explained the matter quickly, and Vak’ha’s eyes widened. Then he nodded. “I will do it.”

His son blinked. “Really?”

“Yes.” Vak’ha nodded once again. “And I will make certain not to fail your friend where others have.”