TBTT 46. A taste of things to come

[moonshadows]

Together, their minds ride the wind above the mountain region where a small storm is brewing.

See? Here, and here. I will bring them together like so. The knowledge flows from him to her, years of experience with the tricky currents of Hellfire Peninsula and Shadowmoon Valley. Her silent amazement is deeply gratifying. 

How long did it take you to design the node that lets you see through the eye of the storm?

Such things were common back in the day. He does not mention how long ago that was.  The Highborne expected to be able to view their domain from the air without the discomfort of levitation.

Now, of course, you could fly, she says wistfully.

No one has ever envied that ability of his before. I will take you flying someday, he promises casually. 

The pulse of adoration is tinged with the barest hint of romantic hope and this, too, is deeply satisfying. He has no intention of acting on it, of course, but he trusts that she will forgive him that. 

Watch; this pressure and this will create lightning naturally, but if you take this structure as a seed, it will form at your command. Do you think you can direct it?

That rock, is all she says as her mind wraps around the spell. The tension gathers, swirls around the arcane rod, and the air itself is ripped apart into a lance of raw, green-tinted power that strikes the indicated boulder with precision.

Well done, my Champion! 

He can’t help wondering what kind of mage she would have been, had she not been born ten thousand years too late and to the wrong race. Hard on the heels of that thought is the disfigured impulse that passes for his urge to procreate: the desire to pass his knowledge and skills on to a worthy student. He tells himself that this is not the time, that there will be more than enough opportunity to mold her into everything she could be – once this world acknowledges him as its rightful ruler. Deftly, he dismantles the small storm and is surprised by the pang of disappointment he feels from her. 

You can play with the lightning tomorrow, he chides gently, affection and amusement trailing through the words. 

She laughs as their minds detangle, the first time he has heard her do so. It strengthens the warm feeling in his heart, knowing that he did this. The sound makes him realize all over again that she enjoys his presence, and his arms tighten around her. 

“Kal’shan?” 

There is no apprehension in her voice, only a tentative offer. Whatever may be wrong, she is willing to try to fix it. Rather than answering, he trails the fingertips of one hand up her horns and revels in how easily he just derailed her into melting against him. 

“Joshua will be here in the sixth hour to pick you up. I expect you to return by the end of the tenth hour.” 

Although his voice does not tremble even the slightest bit, his mind screams fear and uncertainty at letting her out of his control for even that short length of time. All kinds of things she can’t say pile up in her mouth, but she swallows them. Improper, all of them. She has to be patient…but she also has to find a way to soothe that fear. 

Tentatively, she taps on the defenses of his mind, seeking permission to enter. They open in a jolt of surprise and practically pull her inside, his mind wrapping securely around her. She can hear his fear more clearly now, taste the pain of abandonment and the sour tang of humiliation he feels at knowing that she has seen his insecurity. Devotion bleeds out into his mind before she can stop it, raw concern and reassurance mixed with affection and longing. The flow only lasts a moment before it is cut off, and then it is her turn to share the tang of humiliation at having let her weakness show. What must he think of her, now that he has felt her longing? How arrogant she must be, to ever hope to compete with Tyrande for a place in his heart. But no – the tendrils do not retract, she is not ejected from his mind. 

After what seems like forever, a strange gentle flow of trust surrounds her, a blank lack of rejection that soothes her humiliation away as being inconsequential. Shyly, she brings forth the idea she couldn’t put into words: a monitoring node attached to her illusions, so that he could watch her at any time without the need for a  recording device or viewing screen.

You would let me- The awed thought is cut off. If you saw that, then you must know that if I do this, I will not remove it. His mind holds very still, every part of him tense. This is a test of his trust that she will not exploit his weaknesses. He did not mean to share that thought with her, not really. How will she react, knowing how desperate he is for reassurance?

I know, she says simply. More devotion bleeds into his mind, the deep burning desire to serve him any way she can, a willing weapon of his command. If he needs to watch her every second of the day or night to battle the history of betrayal that haunts him, she will gladly submit. After all, she taught him how to get to her no matter where she is, didn’t she? Why would she ever try to keep him from watching her?

His shock and surprise roll through them like distant thunder. She would-? But of course she would. She has.  She is his to do – or not-do – whatever he pleases with. Even if-? Even though-? 

You need me to be patient, she answers both aborted questions, so I will be, for as long as you need me to.

There are no words for that, only gratitude. He can feel her adoration as he gently, tenderly fixes a monitoring node onto the layered spells of her disguise and she slowly eases back out past his barriers. Mine, his mind growls in satisfaction as he releases her and flexes arms stiff from holding her during their practice session.

She does stretches of her own, beaming in illogical pleasure at this mark of his possessiveness. I’ll never be able to compete with Tyrande the way I’d like to, she thinks from behind the privacy of her defenses, but I belong to him and that’s enough for me.

“Remember,” he growls as the illusions cover them both. “I expect you to return by the end of the tenth hour.”

The thrill of mental intimacy has made her giddy. “What happens if I’m not?” she asks impishly.

“Then I come after you.” His cocky smirk takes her breath away. The giddiness must be contagious; he hasn’t bantered like this in…in…in a very long time. A quiet corner of his mind whispers that it would be such fun to chase her down for breaking her curfew, and he shushes it. She’s just a child. 

“I understand, Kal’shan.” 

The words are crisply obedient, but the echo of you need me to be patient, so I will be whispers back from that quiet corner.