Pru and Kharisa fic, part 2
Mar. 28th, 2011 08:12 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
norcumiPicks up immediately after the last part. The whole piece is unpolished, and still doesn't feel quite done, but good gods I need to step away from this for a bit. This technically completes the first draft.
Prudance didn't flinch from the outraged cry. She glared right back, eyes hard and old. "{Do not disparage the joy she had! She fought all her life against those who would define her life as they wished, not as she did, and any time that she had to live as she chose was a gift from Elune herself! She had a purpose greater than herself, friends, and joy. It was the best thing she had ever done!}"
"{...My deepest apologies.}"
Pru gave her a sour look that took awhile to melt. Even then, it was accompanied by another dubious snort."{You know, I don't know who else could get away saying that without sounding sarcastic. So. Wolf was thriving, and happy here.}"
"{And then?}"
"{.... And then one afternoon her squad went out on patrol, several of them fell to undead, and they were unprepared for a wave of Scarlet Crusaders that descended on them afterwards. They were slaughtered and the bodies burned so there was no chance they would return as undead.}" Strange, how the lyrical Darnassian was curt, so clinical, so clearly hiding a world of pain. "{You know how the Scarlet Crusaders tend to be. Thorough, if nothing else. She sent Thing away right before the end, and since he was nothing more than a badly wounded animal, they let him go. The Argent folks found him pining over by the stables the day after.}" Old, painful prayers for the dead danced through Kharisa's mind as the gnome took a none-too-steady breath. "{Thing is too damn stupid to find his way back on his own. I like to think she did that hunter thing, you know, slipping her mind into his and directing him back home... and that she found the comfort of home and family to the end.}"
"{Goddess willing}." Kharisa wasn't sure how she managed to get the words out. Pru nodded a brusque agreement. "{May the balance to the pain be greatest joy under the moon.}" The old benediction for one who had joined the stars fell softly, oddly, and made the gnome squirm.
"{I caught the first griffin heading in this direction, got here in time to solve the problem of what to do with a stupid, mourning, and rather hurt saber, and – well. That would be something altogether different, would it not?}"
While the kaldorei nodded, her eyes were distant. "{Amelorune told me that you had extensive knowledge of the Plaguelands – that you spent a great deal of time here.}" Strangely, the words stuck in her throat. "{She said you knew Hearthglen well.}"
"{Heh. Revered Lady, are you accusing me of going on a "bloodthirsty rampage" against the entire Scarlet Crusade? Right there, in the middle of their stronghold, you imagine I slaughtered hundreds, perhaps thousands of them?}"
Shame turned her cheeks almost violet. "{What would you expect me to think, when according to legend not only should you not be Twain-souled, but to live after the other part of your soul has been murdered – What could that even possibly be like?}"
"Pain." She jumped at the common tongue rolling forth, quiet and wounded. "Emptiness. It's no wonder that legends of the Twain-souled are never dull affairs. You are always driven to find that which is missing in your life. Imagine you could not see, had never managed to do so except in vague, hinted dreams, and that told you that somewhere out there, someone or something had the answer, had your sight in their hands never mind the fact that they might be suffering in the same way-! It would be so easy to kill for that, not just hope for and seek it out. One soul in two bodies is a kind of madness. It can end in death – and let's face it, most stories make it a mutual death – or impossibly deep friendship or lovers like one can only dream of. I don't know what it could have been like for us, though I don't think we were the type to murder each other. And – " Finally, painfully, Pru's voice broke. "And we never met. For us, that was our curse."
"Prudance... I...."
She took a deep breath that trembled less at the end than the beginning. "{No, Revered Lady. Just stop, please. I knew, when it happened. I felt it. Something inside, a connection we could never quantify, and it snapped.} The axel of my life could not be repaired." Another steadying breath. "{I thought of vengeance. Bloody and worthy of lore. And then I thought of Oakenwind's advice – she loved that damned philosophy too much. "The gift of death is only repaid with more death, and pain is only recompensed by more pain. If one must engage in revenge, let it be subtle, swift, and educational." Yes, Revered Lady, I went to Hearthglen with rage in my heart. No bloodthirsty rampages, though. In the end, it was just a much heavier purse on my part, and many lighter ones for the Crusaders.}" Her chuckle didn't have anything in the way of humor in it. "All those crusaders. Full of hate, and rage.... Bigotry is easy. You disbelieve anything that doesn't fit your narrow little world view, and let the hatred eat you alive. I practically lived in the Crusade's stables for.... months. Sneak food, sneak their gold, sneak fun little surprises into their purses and lockboxes – it wasn't a horrible life. Empty, but what isn't?"
"{Then why stop?}"
Thank the Goddess, this time Pru's chuckle had some genuine humor. "{You lived – so to speak. I was already acquainted with Amelorune, and she passed word on to me about new folks in the guild, and given my housemates, she wanted to make sure I knew of the battle for Light's Hope and how death knights were going to change the world for the better. I wasn't sure I recognized your description, but to be honest by that point it didn't matter much. I'd had enough hatred. Now? I just need to find a way to fill the vacuum within.}"
The once priestess reached out to gently rest a hand on Pru's shoulder. "{If ever I can assist your endevors, Pru....}"
With a sad smile the gnome covered her hand. "{I will ask, Revered Lady. Finally speaking to you... has helped greatly. Though if you wouldn't mind, I am tired and would appreciate some solitude.}"
Kharisa made sure her bow was deeper than normal, a gesture of great respect to an equal or greater. "{May your troubles be diminished, Pru.}" She stepped away from the rock and walked a ways back towards the camp, but only far enough that she could barely hear the gnome. Then, and only then, did she sink to her knees and offer tears to Elune. She had always hoped those she'd known had thrived, been happy – and that her ravaged memories were not missing too many. To find such a fate for one she'd called friend, and something worse in one so tightly connected that she'd never known.....
For the death knight, tears were more blood and ice than salt water, but she did not hold back. In the moons' light she could pretend they were true tears. Under the grace of a distant goddess, she could pretend that it was the wind echoing her quiet tears, rather than the gentle sobs of another.
~end~
Prudance didn't flinch from the outraged cry. She glared right back, eyes hard and old. "{Do not disparage the joy she had! She fought all her life against those who would define her life as they wished, not as she did, and any time that she had to live as she chose was a gift from Elune herself! She had a purpose greater than herself, friends, and joy. It was the best thing she had ever done!}"
"{...My deepest apologies.}"
Pru gave her a sour look that took awhile to melt. Even then, it was accompanied by another dubious snort."{You know, I don't know who else could get away saying that without sounding sarcastic. So. Wolf was thriving, and happy here.}"
"{And then?}"
"{.... And then one afternoon her squad went out on patrol, several of them fell to undead, and they were unprepared for a wave of Scarlet Crusaders that descended on them afterwards. They were slaughtered and the bodies burned so there was no chance they would return as undead.}" Strange, how the lyrical Darnassian was curt, so clinical, so clearly hiding a world of pain. "{You know how the Scarlet Crusaders tend to be. Thorough, if nothing else. She sent Thing away right before the end, and since he was nothing more than a badly wounded animal, they let him go. The Argent folks found him pining over by the stables the day after.}" Old, painful prayers for the dead danced through Kharisa's mind as the gnome took a none-too-steady breath. "{Thing is too damn stupid to find his way back on his own. I like to think she did that hunter thing, you know, slipping her mind into his and directing him back home... and that she found the comfort of home and family to the end.}"
"{Goddess willing}." Kharisa wasn't sure how she managed to get the words out. Pru nodded a brusque agreement. "{May the balance to the pain be greatest joy under the moon.}" The old benediction for one who had joined the stars fell softly, oddly, and made the gnome squirm.
"{I caught the first griffin heading in this direction, got here in time to solve the problem of what to do with a stupid, mourning, and rather hurt saber, and – well. That would be something altogether different, would it not?}"
While the kaldorei nodded, her eyes were distant. "{Amelorune told me that you had extensive knowledge of the Plaguelands – that you spent a great deal of time here.}" Strangely, the words stuck in her throat. "{She said you knew Hearthglen well.}"
"{Heh. Revered Lady, are you accusing me of going on a "bloodthirsty rampage" against the entire Scarlet Crusade? Right there, in the middle of their stronghold, you imagine I slaughtered hundreds, perhaps thousands of them?}"
Shame turned her cheeks almost violet. "{What would you expect me to think, when according to legend not only should you not be Twain-souled, but to live after the other part of your soul has been murdered – What could that even possibly be like?}"
"Pain." She jumped at the common tongue rolling forth, quiet and wounded. "Emptiness. It's no wonder that legends of the Twain-souled are never dull affairs. You are always driven to find that which is missing in your life. Imagine you could not see, had never managed to do so except in vague, hinted dreams, and that told you that somewhere out there, someone or something had the answer, had your sight in their hands never mind the fact that they might be suffering in the same way-! It would be so easy to kill for that, not just hope for and seek it out. One soul in two bodies is a kind of madness. It can end in death – and let's face it, most stories make it a mutual death – or impossibly deep friendship or lovers like one can only dream of. I don't know what it could have been like for us, though I don't think we were the type to murder each other. And – " Finally, painfully, Pru's voice broke. "And we never met. For us, that was our curse."
"Prudance... I...."
She took a deep breath that trembled less at the end than the beginning. "{No, Revered Lady. Just stop, please. I knew, when it happened. I felt it. Something inside, a connection we could never quantify, and it snapped.} The axel of my life could not be repaired." Another steadying breath. "{I thought of vengeance. Bloody and worthy of lore. And then I thought of Oakenwind's advice – she loved that damned philosophy too much. "The gift of death is only repaid with more death, and pain is only recompensed by more pain. If one must engage in revenge, let it be subtle, swift, and educational." Yes, Revered Lady, I went to Hearthglen with rage in my heart. No bloodthirsty rampages, though. In the end, it was just a much heavier purse on my part, and many lighter ones for the Crusaders.}" Her chuckle didn't have anything in the way of humor in it. "All those crusaders. Full of hate, and rage.... Bigotry is easy. You disbelieve anything that doesn't fit your narrow little world view, and let the hatred eat you alive. I practically lived in the Crusade's stables for.... months. Sneak food, sneak their gold, sneak fun little surprises into their purses and lockboxes – it wasn't a horrible life. Empty, but what isn't?"
"{Then why stop?}"
Thank the Goddess, this time Pru's chuckle had some genuine humor. "{You lived – so to speak. I was already acquainted with Amelorune, and she passed word on to me about new folks in the guild, and given my housemates, she wanted to make sure I knew of the battle for Light's Hope and how death knights were going to change the world for the better. I wasn't sure I recognized your description, but to be honest by that point it didn't matter much. I'd had enough hatred. Now? I just need to find a way to fill the vacuum within.}"
The once priestess reached out to gently rest a hand on Pru's shoulder. "{If ever I can assist your endevors, Pru....}"
With a sad smile the gnome covered her hand. "{I will ask, Revered Lady. Finally speaking to you... has helped greatly. Though if you wouldn't mind, I am tired and would appreciate some solitude.}"
Kharisa made sure her bow was deeper than normal, a gesture of great respect to an equal or greater. "{May your troubles be diminished, Pru.}" She stepped away from the rock and walked a ways back towards the camp, but only far enough that she could barely hear the gnome. Then, and only then, did she sink to her knees and offer tears to Elune. She had always hoped those she'd known had thrived, been happy – and that her ravaged memories were not missing too many. To find such a fate for one she'd called friend, and something worse in one so tightly connected that she'd never known.....
For the death knight, tears were more blood and ice than salt water, but she did not hold back. In the moons' light she could pretend they were true tears. Under the grace of a distant goddess, she could pretend that it was the wind echoing her quiet tears, rather than the gentle sobs of another.
~end~
