10. Marry me - Insinuate

[moonshadows]

Only two of the Royal Guard are outside the meeting room when I arrive, indicating that Varian is not alone in waiting for me. My Kor'kron Elites nod respectfully to the Royal Guard, who return the casual greeting and make no other motion as the Elites join them against the wall. Weeks of negotiations have jaded each group to the presence of the other. Golthak follows me inside and takes his place with the other two Royal Guard, watching. Instead of sitting at the head of the conference table, Varian occupies one of two chairs on one side while roughly a dozen nobles line the other.

"Ah, and here she is." Varian grins roguishly at me, gesturing to the unoccupied seat an arm's length away from his. "Taretha, the House of Nobles and the Guilds have sent representatives to meet you."

"To what do I owe the pleasure, my lords?" I ask icily, keeping my disdain just short of outright loathing.

"While we are...thrilled...that his Majesty has found..." The man with the ridiculous mauve hat looks nervously between myself and my husband-to-be and licks his lips. "Yes. Well. You may be aware, my lady, that Stormwind's stability has been undermined in the past by an enemy in the guise of a beautiful lady."

The implication is crystal clear. Unfortunately for them, I am familiar  with the details. "Ah, yes. The black dragon Onyxia, wasn't it?" My smile is too sharp to be charming, and more than a few of them flinch. "If I am not mistaken, it took ten years and a common-born man to unmask her. I can't help but wonder, my lords, if her presence might not have been detected earlier if her policies had not coincided so neatly with your own."

One man, a stout fellow in tan, raises his eyebrows and inclines his head towards me respectfully. Several others glower, affronted. "What precisely are you saying, my lady?" one of them asks in a tone bordering on accusation.

I am not nearly so restrained; this topic is one which I have researched thoroughly. "I am saying, my lords, that if you had been paying more attention to your responsibilities and less to your purses, you might have avoided the events leading up to that unfortunate riot. I am saying, my lords, that if you had been more scrupulous with regards to the kingdom that had been temporarily entrusted to you, his Majesty would not have been in a position to ask for my hand."

"You are blaming us for-" the indignant protest cuts off as the speaker, a man in a mustard-yellow tunic, catches a glimpse of his liege's face. "Regardless of what happened in the past, you must understand that there is widespread concern over your loyalties and ambitions."

"My ambitions?" My eyebrows arch. "My lords, I assure you that if I had possessed dreams of power, I would have declined his Majesty's proposal and stayed with the Horde. As for my loyalties, they remain with my brother and my clan as outlined in the treaty being negotiated. If you are concerned that a giddy bride might bankrupt the kingdom with a desire for baubles, my lords, you may rest easy as I am neither giddy nor impressed by pretty stones or pretty words." I look pointedly at the rings that adorn his hands. "In fact, my lord, you are wearing more jewelry than I am and are very close to displaying more precious jewels than I own."

"You needn't desire power or wealth to seek the fall of an enemy nation, my lady." The speaker is a thin man wearing teal, with a bushy black beard and sharp nose. "You have never made a secret of your dislike for king or kingdom. Why would you agree to this marriage if not for an ulterior motive?"

Before I can answer, a choked-back laugh reminds me that I am not alone on this side of the table. I glance at my husband-to-be and am unsurprised to find him grinning broadly. "Pray tell, what do you find so amusing, your Majesty?"

He schools his expression, but his eyes glint with suppressed mirth. "Nothing, my lady."

I give him an exasperated glare and turn back to the nobles. "That, my lords, is why I agreed to this farce. Your king is a crusading buffoon acting like a lovesick imbecile. While his compulsive need to right wrongs is occupied with the fool's quest of winning my heart, he will not be thinking up new and ridiculous ways to waste the resources and manpower of two nations trying to enact vengeance for his imprisonment. Which, I might add, was brought about by the same organization birthed by the policies which were so eagerly embraced fifteen years ago. In short, my lords, I am cleaning up your mess because your kingdom seems to require the aid of those common-born to keep political disaster at bay."

The nobles find other places to rest their eyes, but the stout gentleman in tan catches my eye. "My lady, may I begin by saying that you are a breath of fresh air and I think his Majesty made an excellent choice?" He smiles, a genuine expression, and I allow my icy mask to crack for a moment to return it. "Now then, you must be aware that the people are highly curious about you, and there are many rumors. I would prefer to have truth with which to combat them, as some of them are rather...unsavory."

"The truth may be equally unsavory," I warn.

"I understand that, my lady, but unsavory truths may be presented with a sympathetic slant. I apologize in advance for the subject, but with regards to the late Aedelas Blackmoore...?"

"He was a drunkard and a lecher who cared for nothing but his own pleasure and dreamed of leading an orc army to overthrow the Alliance."

"And what was your relationship to him?"

"I was his unwilling mistress for seven years."

The room falls silent.

"My virtue should not be an issue in this, as the throne already has an heir and this is a marriage of state."

The stout man clears his throat uncomfortably. "I beg you, my lady, can you lay to rest the rumor that you have taken...other lovers...since joining the Horde?"

My expression resumes its glacial warmth. "As I told his Majesty on the day we met, I have endured the indignities of the bedroom enough to last me the rest of my life."

"You were ill-treated, then?" Asks the man with the yellow tunic.

"If I were to detail the things I suffered, my lords, your king would froth at the mouth from being denied a target to slay. Suffice to say no child should have to see their parents' severed heads roll in the mud."

The assembled nobles glance as one at Varian and then look away from his grim scowl. The fact that he was not surprised seems to make them disinclined to question me further.

"Are there any other concerns?" Varian does not so much ask as threaten violence should the answer be yes.

Naturally, there is no dissension.

"We are done here. My lady?"

He stands and offers me his arm. I hesitate long enough to make it clear that I am choosing to allow it, then rest my fingertips on his sleeve and Golthak opens the door as we sweep out. In silence, we tread the halls adorned with blue and red banners. The Dalaran sunlight is warm against my skin as we emerge from the building, and Varian leads me around the enclosed courtyard to the bench beneath the apple tree. I sit, but he takes a few steps away and examines the fruit hanging from a low branch.

"Before you yell at me, I want you to know that you were magnificent. No one's dared speak to them like that since..." He pulls an apple from the branch and holds it tightly. "...since Tiffin died."

The scathing remark I had been ready to make dies. "I'm not going to yell at you, my lord. I understand the necessity behind what you did."

He looks at me in surprise and a little hope. "I know you weren't happy with me. You made that abundantly clear, to me if no one else." It's a tacit invitation to rip into him.

"My aim is not to tear you down mercilessly and without reason, my lord," I say coldly.

The apple crunches between his teeth for a few moments, and he swallows. "There is mercy, then,  and a reason behind even the harshest of your words."

"I said mercilessly and without reason, my lord. Either the first or the second may be evident without the other, but never both at once."

Varian takes another bite of apple and chews thoughtfully. "That's good enough for me." He bows to me with a flourish. "You are as honorable as you are lovely, my lady. I will see you again soon."

His warm smile glances off my stony expression and he leaves the courtyard through the door leading to the Alliance wing.

Comments

Heads will roll

[(Anonymous)]

No child should see their parents head. True. It also means Tari would be utterly appalled by the orcs before and after thrall's reign as warchief and the undead in general, but _particularly_ after Sylvanus resurrection post ICC.

Re: Heads will roll

[moonshadows]

It's a good thing, then, that events go wildly different. Cataclysm doesn't happen, Thrall doesn't step down, and Sylvannas is not canon Sylvannas. But it's not like Taretha doesn't know the things the Old Horde did; she did hear the stories, but she also watched those same orcs be haunted by the things they did under the demon's blood curse, and actively work towards being the honorable race they were before the Burning Legion's corruption.