Tag: Kharris x 19

It was a time of year when there was a great whirlwind of activity. She remembered being in Ironforge for it one year; Silvermoon wasn't that festive, but it was still decorated and the air of the holiday was pervasive. Kharris smiled to herself as she placed the small package under the tree she'd put up and decorated with Castien and Ylaise.

She hadn't gone extravagant for gifts for anyone for a few years now. Books, journals, small trinkets, and favorite foods. But time spent with loved ones was lavished and she made sure she savored it. She would make it out to see Keiran, if only for a day or so.

The kitchen at Threadneedle smelled of cookies, candied nuts, breads, and cider. Asarel had consented to wearing the soft, fuzzy pajama...

Her head rested on Asarel's bare chest, her black hair fanning out over the pale skin. He was not sleeping, he still so rarely slept well, but he was resting. His fingers teased slowly through her hair and she was grateful. Her head chased his hand subtly. He knew what she needed, even if neither of them could articulate it.

Two weeks out, nearly, and she finally felt easy breathing. Her heart was calmer again, with no adrenaline spiking through her sleep, no half-heard voice. That part usually only lasted a few days. The nightmares had had come only one night, but were soothed by the warm embrace of her lover. The other dreams had lingered, as they did every year, but the ache was bittersweet and more welcome.

It was just that she...

She lay in bed, comforter pulled up and a book lay across her bent legs. There was a mug of tea on the side table and her free hand tapped an unconscious rhythm on the sheets as she read.  She startled and nearly threw her book--and kicked her cat--when suddenly her feet were attacked by an unrivaled predator.

Kharris laughed lightly and then cooed to soothe Fathing's own irritation at the disappearance of his prey. The cat sauntered up to her, silent and haughty, accepting the soft touches she offered to the big tom. He flopped down next to her heavily. He moved with grace and lithe power, but Kharris frowned to see how much slower he was moving. And, lately, he hadn't leapt directly onto the bed, but first onto the bench, then up to...

It had felt a bit like a rebirth, coming back to this time. She had been gone for over six months. Vanished. Poof. As good as dead. It hadn't been hell, but her time away certainly hadn't been heaven. She had not been sure it was going to be a purgatory, even with the insistence everyone had tried to reassure her with in the months prior to her correction. But here she was, given the second chance to live in her second chance time.

Habitually, lost in thought, Khaeris ran a fingertip at a small imperfection on her upper arm. There was no scar--just a small injection and then it was done. But there was a slight rise in the subcutaneous tissues. The small tracker was there. Pollux had, apparently, been carrying it with him constantly, in...

Kharris gave Kieran another hug while Coire waited grumpily near the small group of elves. The old direwolf didn't appreciate the disruption of this time of year. Kharris smiled to see the wolf, understand some of his agitation.

She kissed her friend's cheek and sank down to the flat of her feet. He was much taller than she was. It always surprised her, no matter how many times she saw him.

They were no longer children, but they would always be startled by that, so deeply entrenched in each other's more innocent days.

Guilt pulled at her here. Guilt for leaving Kieran out here with only his wolf for company. She knew that she and Asarel were welcome here--but at the same time, Kieran would undoubtedly feel some ease as they left.

Asarel...

She woke up with a gasp, shivering even under the heavy blankets. It was dark in her room. Moonlight came in through the gauzy curtains her aunt favored, painting all the edges of everything silver and white. Without color, the room looked flat. But it wasn't the deep, dark, heavy cold she'd been dreaming of moments prior. She sat up and tried to catch her breath, but the images kept come back. Her imagination ran her through everything again.

Water. They'd been under the lake. They'd heard explosive note of the impact, the crack of the ice, the panicked screams of the draft animals, and the ironically cheerful burbling of the air out of the vardo as it sunk quickly into the frigid water. The cold would have stolen their breath as they...

She had never stayed somewhere with a basement. Or rather, it was really a root cellar, snug under the farm house. There were big folding doors that lay near the ground and opened outward. The lock had been easy to break, but the doors still closed tight together to seal out rain, snow, critters, and ... other things.

She looked around as her eyes adjusted. The room had dirt walls and there were the thread-thin roots that pushed at them. It seemed fitting that  she would bury herself down here to avoid the disaster overhead.

She had nothing but the clothes on her back and one alarmingly flat rucksack that had once been stuffed full. Supplies were running low. Until she'd found this haven anyway. Her heart was beating from a whole...

The dwarven woman had been the latest. Giving her that half-glance with the half-recognition squint. After this many years, you'd think she'd have gotten used to it by now. But she hadn't. It still sent a slight shiver up her spine and questions she'd spent the last few years trying to avoid would come flashing through. 

"No, I'm sorry, I don't think we've met." Her smile was easy and warm, dimpled with a hint of sheepishness. 'But you probably know the other one. I'm the lookalike. I'm the one that doesn't belong. I'm not who you think I am, I am not who you wanted.'

The dwarven woman had returned the smile, the bewilderment clear on her expression. Khaeris was sure it would have been nice to have met her.

The sky was clear blue and the clouds were sailing across the sky. She watched them for hours while the biting scent of the pines filled her lungs and the grass cushioned her rest. There was smoke coming from the cabin nearby; Asarel was cooking for supper and giving her space. Kieran and Coire were out hunting.

She'd been here, like every year, tasting the Hinterlands and letting herself feel things she didn't let out except at this time of year.  This year she'd brought him a small bow and a quiver of arrows, along with the other offerings. Rowan would have been eleven years old, tomorrow. There were a burst of poppies to cut the smell of sap and bring some color to the hilltop. But every year it was the same, the wet-stone smell of...

It had felt like a kind of static shock. Startling. Not quite painful. But a surprise, none the less. She had jumped and so had her heart. No one looking at the scene would have understood the woman's jolt. It was quiet in the room Khaeris had been granted. Her alchemy tools were neat on the dresser top. Perhaps not the best work bench, but it was doing the job in a pinch. Mr. Hale had not minded. His generosity was evident in the superbly crafted set of tools in front of her now.

Her mind whirled with the possibilities. Her gaze fell unseeing onto her research journal. She leaned on the dresser while she thought.

No. It hadn't been true static, of course. She didn't know exactly what, but something had happened. Something she was...

(( This post is a reply to Ruecien's post here: http://ruecien.tumblr.com/post/177631332602/sharing-trouble ))

Included in a small parcel was an elegant envelope and thick, expensive parchment. The script was less refined than he might have remembered, as if learned and mastered as an adult and only recently. A small tin of personally blended goldthorn tea and a series of packets of seeds from the Kul Tiras with a variety of drawings with descriptions and notations as she felt he might enjoy.

Dearest Ruecien,

I have received your letter and have thought it over. Trouble has been long absent for many of us, and I fear Sinobel is not the only one to start stagnating. We've all long kept our noses down and out of the fires that...