Thursday, July 28, 2016
[WoW Fanction] Khadgar, Aronthil, one shaman and a missing hair.
Khadgar was discussing Dalaran's latest round of problems with the rest of the council. Various citizens, heroes, merchants and sundry moved around them much like water around a rock in a fast moving stream. They could probably have found a table to sit at rather than standing in a cluster in the lobby of the violet citadel, but the archmages preferred to be readily accessible. If someone had news from the front, it needed to be delivered immediately, not twenty minutes later when the courier finally managed to get into whatever meeting room or library they happened to be in.. and Dalaran had a lot of libraries. Public meetings also meant that people could see their leaders were doing things, even if it was about the misalignment of the sewage removal operations after the latest teleportation of the city.
The leader of the Kirin Tor felt a sudden pain at the back of his head. "Ow! What in the light was that?!" he peered around. While some of the visitors to the citadel had turned to stare at him, he saw no animal or person behind him, just the faint smell of spice and ozone.
Archmage Modera peered up at him, "Khadgar, what's wrong? What happened?" It was rather unlike their leader to suddenly burst out in profanity.
Khadgar rubbed the back of his head, "Something.." he stopped and looked around once more, "..bit my head, I think."
Modera rolled her eyes, "Something bit your head? That's all?" An eyebrow raised in a skeptical arch, "Would you like me to kiss it better?"
Khadgar sighed, "No, no. Let's just get back to the turtle problem."
* * *
It didn't take long to find Aronthil. Khadgar strode into the tertiary library of the third level of the citadel. The blood elf didn't look up from where he was sitting at a table. Several books were spread across the surface along with pages full of notes. Khadgar wondered if he should point out the ink smudges on the elf's hands, but it was rare to see the mage as anything other than spotless. Aronthil didn't look up from his absorbed writing other than to wave his free hand in Khadgar's general direction as acknowledgment. The archmage walked around to behind the fire mage so he could wrap his arms around his lover's shoulders and rest his chin on Aronthil's head.
"The boiling point of fel blood in the average felhound?" Khadgar asked with raised eyebrows as he read the sheet being written.
"Academic purposes, I assure you." came the reply. Arothin's left hand patted Khadgar's clasped hands. "Blowing up felhounds, even en masse, serves little purpose beyond entertainment."
Khadgar wasn't quite sure how to respond to that, "And what would you blow up for a better purpose?"
"Demon lords, but one has to start small, doesn't one?" Aronthil put down the quill and gave the hands that rested on his collarbone a kiss.
"I wouldn't know; I started with you," Khadgar replied, happily changing the mood.
That got a snort of amusement. "And what bring you to my lair this early in the day?"
"It's two hours past supper time, and you've yet to have a meal." Khadgar corrected, letting go and stepping back. He held out his hand.
Aronthil turned to look out a window, long ago having evicted the clocks from his favorite place to study and research. "Is it?" But sure enough, the clouds were reflecting the sun preparing to set. Khadgar didn't need to respond. "I suppose it is." He took Khadgar's hand as he stood, then looping his arm through the archmage's. "Shall we find something to eat then?"
"Food would be good too," Khadgar replied. "I did have a question, however." He guided them over to one of the communication orbs. "Why was one of your shaman stealing my hair?"
That got Aronthil to stop, turn, and stare at him. "What?"
"An elemental specialist judging by scent. I'd say probably an orc by the size of air displacement. So, I'd assume one Raeska Frostwolf decided to make off with one of my hairs. I'm curious as to why."
Storm clouds gathered in Aronthil's eyes as his hand flashed over the orb. "Raeska!"
A picture formed in the orb, fel lava and demons were everywhere as lightning arced through the view. "NOT A GOOD TIME!" came the snarled reply as a clawed weapon slashed into a demoness, ichor splurting everywhere. "BIT BUSY!"
"Now is an excellent time," Aronthil replied sternly. "Why did you steal hair from Khadgar?"
The replied involved orcish profanity spat with disgust. "Can't this wait?" A felhound attempted to pounce on her but was tackled by a giant earth elemental.
"Well, it's not THAT important. I have faith that one of your band is trustworthy and had a good reason. I'm just curious." Khadgar interjected.
"Thank you, Khadgar!" Raeska replied, spinning in place to send jets of lava into a pack of imps who scattered. "Nice to know someone has faith in me!"
"I have faith you can multitask," Aronthil told her, folding his arms. "Now.."
Raeska let loose an explosion of lightning that sent demons flying every which way. She wiped a hand across her sweated brow and looked around. The earth elemental also seemed to scan the area before bowing to her and sinking back into the earth.
"It was for an alchemy project." The shamaness answered, still looking for danger.
Both mages' eyes narrowed.
"Oh for the love of.." she muttered and clipped her shield on her back before loosening her hold on her fist claws. ".. I had to do a favor for a friend of a friend. They'd thought it would be funny to steal one of your hairs, so I chugged an invisibility potion, took the hair, burned the hair with a torch, and gave her one of Imogen's. You're remarkably similar colors of gray."
"Hmm," Khadgar said, exchanging a look with Aronthil. "All the same, perhaps I should know who this friend of a friend IS."
Raeska's eyes snapped to the horizon, "Madame Goya, she's lurking around in your sewers."
"Yes, her and every rabid turtle." Khadgar muttered and sighed, "Nevermind. Thank you, shaman."
"Right." Raeska turned in time to be hit by a meteor from an infernal and get thrown out of view. The communication orb spun a bit trying to focus on her before the picture dissolved.
Khadgar jumped forward as if he could do something via the orb. Aronthil patted him on the shoulder, "She'll be fine. She survived a night drinking with Aggra."
"That is stamina, for sure." Khadgar agreed, but his brow still furrowed with concern.
Aronthil put his arm around his lover's shoulder and steered him towards the door.
"We were talking about dinner," Khadgar said.
"No, you were talking about dinner, I was talking about eating." Aronthil corrected with a smile.
"Ah, a significant and important difference." Khadgar agreed with a smile, lost hairs and shaman forgotten for the now.