#Alsabe Silverthorn

[tindomielsilverthorn]

Calling a Truce

This next chapter is a collaboration with my wonderful husband, @thebiganvil.

Find the full storyline here: Iasea Storyline

The hulking man stood in the doorway, reading over the note in his hand again. He seemed to be debating the best course of action. If he went straight to Forosuul, the man would likely leave straightaway to take matters into his own hands. And Alsa would be hurt. But if he told Alsa first, she would want to go and see what could be done. And the Patriarch will be angry with him. There’s no winning here. No choice that resolves things. He sighed heavily and stepped into the small cottage he shared with his mate.

The space was cozy and comfortable, all decorated with Alsabe’s beautiful wall hangings that made the space bright and joyful. He spotted her plucking leaves into a bowl, her soft, silver-white hair tumbling down her back. Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gave her the gentlest of squeezes to get her attention. 

“Big Bear!” She jumped up and hugged him tightly, her task forgotten. She kissed him happily before pulling back to see his concerned face. “What’s wrong, Dæ?”

He set her back down on her feet and lumbered over to a chair. “Sit down, beautiful. Please.” He indicated the chair across from him. She did as he requested, her brow furrowing. He placed the parchment in front of her, giving her some time to read it.

“She wants me to meet with her? At the Blue Recluse?” She read it again, her confusion only building. 

“This could be a trap, Alsa. But it might be what she is offering too. Just to talk. It’s a very public place, so I would think it might not be too bad,” he offered. His eyes were sad, knowing the pain this whole situation had brought everyone.

She stared at the paper, nodding. “I’m going.” She set her features and stood. Without further discussion, she started changing into her fighting kit. As she wrapped the adorned belt about her waist, Dæsin’s heavy hand pulled her backwards against him. He wrapped his arms around her, leaning down, he kissed the top of her head.

“Not alone, beautiful. Let me come with you,” he held her still, forcing her to talk it through. She tried to push free to keep dressing, her heart pounding in her chest. She didn’t want to stop. Didn’t want to talk. He knew she would do this, so he held her close, keeping his voice gentle. “Alsa, please. I could never forgive myself if something happened. And your father won’t forgive me for telling you. Please.”

She sighed, accepting his request. They dressed together and stepped out side. Dæsin closed his eyes, opened his arms wide and shifted into the form of a large grey owl. He lowered his belly to the ground and she pulled herself up onto his back. Once she had settled, he took flight and headed to the Shrine and the portals.

Dæsin nodded as he let his form morph into a large cat. He bumped her side, purring before shimmering out of view. He stalked off a bit away, hopefully out of notice and waited. Alsabe drew the shadows around herself, preparing for a fight that she was uncertain would come. The district was busy as usual, people coming and going from shops, the tavern and the mage tower. A drunk man wandered a little too close to her. Moments later the same man could be heard cursing a blue streak while spinning around to find the cause of his now shredded trousers. A small smile cracked Alsa’s features as she shook her head. The amusement was short lived as a familiar head of pink hair moved into view. 

Iasea Moonwhisper approached slowly, looking around. She spotted her target and walked up, keeping her hands in full view. As she stepped in front of Alsabe, she bowed her smile quickly fading. The shadows around Alsa pulsed as she eyed Iasea warily. Iasea watched Alsabe, surprised.  “You were expecting me to fight with you? Here?”

“You attacked my niece not far from here, in broad daylight,” Alsabe spat.

“I attacked no one,” she responded calmly.

The younger woman narrowed her pale violet eyes. “Fine,” she clipped. “Your people did.” She turned her back and walked inside to order herself something to calm her nerves.

Iasea gestured to an empty table and found a chair for herself. “I came to call a truce, Alsabe. Will you sit with me?” She indicated the chair beside her. I’m going to have to work for this. Damn.

Alsabe sighed. “Very well,” she responded, dismissing the shadow. 

For the first time that day, Iasea could see her clearly. The halter top, thigh high leggings and a detailed belt. The entire look designed to accentuate Alsabe’s full hips and chest. Iasea, unable to stop herself,  chuckled. Alsabe frowned at her. “I see some things haven't changed,” she indicated the way the younger elf was dressed.

“A lot about me has changed, Iasea. You can blame your former matron for that.”

“Who our House served was not my choice,” she sighed.

“I don't remember you protesting,” Alsabe sneered.

“What would have been the point,” Iasea asked. “Min'da made the decisions. The best I could do was work with what was available.” Alsabe nodded, conceding the point. She picked up her drink and took a slow sip. “You were her favorite, I don't know what you are complaining about.”

Alsabe eyes widened. “Her what,” she asked incredulously.

“Her favorite,” came the fit reply. Alsabe looked both shocked and outraged. “You were the one she counted on. You always got things done.”

Alsabe glared at her. “I hope, Iasea, that someday you know how it feels to be the favorite of someone like her.” Her voice dripped with hatred. “I really, really do.”

“I tried,” she sighed. “Never managed to get her to look at me the same way.”

“Lucky you,” Alsa stated bitterly, looking away.

Iasea shook her head. “You seem to have done quite well for yourself now. Unlike the rest of us.”

“Blame her for that too, she cast me out.” 

“So you are unhappy then?” She seemed surprised. All indications were that she was being absolutely spoiled in her new home. Could I find another way to make you miserable? I wonder…

“I am unhappy my niece was nearly killed,” she snapped. Taking a breath, she managed to level out her voice. “Other than that, no, not even a little.”

“I'm not exactly happy that my entire family is dead.”

“I am,” Alsa smirked, crossing her arms in front of her.

Iasea sighed. “I didn’t come here to fight with you, truly.”

“Why did you try to kill her?” Alsabe stared at her once sister. “Kalimè did nothing to you.”

Iasea’s voice grew quiet. “And I did nothing to this House of yours. Yet I am the one who suffers.”

Alsabe scowled. “Kasuura murdered my sister's mother. Ufnas and Shefyura helped her do it.”

“They did,” Iasea confirmed. 

“Our people thought you innocent of it, so they let you go.”

“Min'da was obsessed with getting back into Mire's graces,” she replied in surrender.

“Well, perhaps she is, as the two of them roam the netherworld together,” she muttered.

“I heard Mire died as well. But no one seems to want to tell me what happened,” she pried, hoping Alsabe would give her something of use. “To either of them.”

Alsabe smirked, “They crossed my father.” She gave the older woman nothing more.

“There's nothing left, Alsabe,” she whispered. “Everything is gone. I lashed out, it was horrible. I am sorry for it.”

Alsabe narrowed her eyes. “...what are you saying?”

“What I did was wrong and I am sorry. This is done with.”

“You're sorry…” she repeated dubiously.

“I am sorry for sending people after the young one,” she amended quietly.

“What did you think you were going to accomplish?”

“I don't know! Make you hurt as much as I did?” Her ice blue eyes, searched Alsa’s pale face. It was so unlike her own pink one. “Make you understand what it feels like to have nothing and no one. Permanently?”

Alsabe face hardened. “I faced that a long time ago, Iasea. I spent my life hurting, until Kajeda took me in.”

Iasea nodded. “But you still had a place to live. Clothes, food, people who would get whatever you needed.”

“Would you rather they had killed you?”

“Since the world tree burned,” she whispered. “Very much so.” Alsabe eye twitched. “I was a fool. I let myself be bitter and horrible, just like Min'da was. And now? Now I really know what it's like to feel alone. And with no chance of seeing our home again. I see our people hurting and I think it would be better if I did something...I don't know, better than what I was doing?” Alsabe looked confused. It’s working. If I just keep playing on her sympathies, I’ll have her. Iasea sniffled a little. "I just wanted you to know that I am not going to harm anyone else in your family.”

Alsa watched her in silence for a long few minutes. Very quietly she asked, “Are you expecting this to simply be forgiven?”

Iasea shook her head. “No. But I am hoping that maybe I can give you something in return.”

“What could you possibly offer?”

Iasea withdrew a piece of paper from her pocket. “The names of the three men I paid.”

Alsabe frowned. “You will give them up?”

Iasea placed the parchment on the table and slid it over to her with a single finger. “If I turn them over to you, I cannot ever use them against your family again.”

“Why, Iasea, what do you hope to gain?”

“Nothing. I just want to put it all behind me.” Alsabe looked uncertain, but lifted the note from the table. “What else can I do…sister?”

Alsabe eyes flashed a darker shade of purple. “I am not your sister,” came her guttural reply.

“Not by my choice.”

“My sister is the one whose child you tried to murder.” Iasea nodded, casting her eyes to the table. “I was cast aside, you did not reach out, you never even asked if I was all right.”

“I was forbidden to do so,” she offered quietly.

Alsabe frowned. “Where is this coming from. Iasea?  It’s not like we were close before,” she stated, looking at the names on the paper in her hand.

“Maybe that is the very problem. We never got close. Isn't that what sisters are supposed to be,” she asked gently.  “Maybe we missed out on something and Min'da's cruelty dug in too deep.” Alsabe looked troubled as Iasea shifted in the ill fitted robe. Iasea looked at her hands before returning her gaze to Alsabe. “I don't expect you will forgive me. But I hope you will trust that this is over. There will be no more threats, no more attempts on anyone.”

Alsabe rubbed her eyes. “ Iasea…” Iasea let her breath catch in her throat. Alsabe waved the note at her. “I will give them your peace offering, but...Papa does not forgive. There will be a price for what you did.”

Iasea stood and held out her hands. “You are looking at everything I have.” Alsabe looked stricken but tried to hide it. Iasea gestured to herself, “This...this is the entirety of the House of Moonwhisper. All the members, all the funding, everything.” Iasea flopped down into the chair, a tear rolling down her cheek.

Alsabe’s voice cracked slightly. “Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“You feel whatever you want to feel. I am merely telling you how things stand. If there is a price to be paid, he will have to take it from me. There's nothing else.”

“It won't be money, Iasea. Papa takes payment in blood.”

Iasea held out her wrists. Her voice was quiet, resigned. “Then let him take it.” Alsabe recoiled, unprepared for that response. “I don't know what else I can do or say. If I must pay for what I did, and the price if in blood, then take it.”

“It is not my place. Papa will decide what to do.”

Iasea's eyes filled with tears, but she nodded. “I will be in the survivor's camp on the other side of the city.”

Alsabe waved the note again. “This may buy you some measure of mercy.” She looked the other woman over. “Have you eaten?” Iasea shook her head. At that, Alsabe asked the server to bring over a small meal. The other started to argue, but Alsabe insisted.

Iasea nodded her gratitude. “Is she all right? The young one, I mean.”

“She will be, she has had a team of healers on her day and night. The Silverthorns take care of their own.”

“That is good,” she whispered.

“If she died, you understand, nothing would save you,” Alsa told her. “No power in this world.”

“Like Min’da?”

“Worse.”

“I don’t even know what that means,” she countered. She nodded her thanks at the server placing the sandwich in front of her. Alsabe’s face hardened. “I don't know what was done to her, only that she was killed.”

“Pray you never do,” Alsa answered coldly.

“Who did it?”

“That is not for me to say.” Iasea sighed, and tugged on the dress again, trying to get it to sit more comfortably. Alsabe looked Iasea over. “You keep picking at that dress.”

“It doesn't fit right,” she replied quietly. “It's not mine. My clothes were destroyed escaping the tree.”

“Where did you get it?”

“One of the other survivors.” She picked up the sandwich and took a bite.

“Did you steal it,” Alsa accused her.

Iasea scowled and shook her head. “No. They gave some of their clothes to the healers.” Alsabe gazed at Iasea impassively for a moment. “It's fine. At least it's better than the singed one I had on.”

“I shall give your message to my family,” Alsa sighed. 

“Thank you Alsabe. Please, let them all know that I mean them no more harm. Nor you.”

“I can't be sure how they will react,” she responded. “Well, except in the case of your friends,” she smirked, brandishing the note. “I hope you weren’t fond of them.”

“I will take my meal and go sit back at the camp then. I wouldn't want to ruin any appetite you may have. Be safe, Alsabe.”

Alsabe gazed at Iasea, looking conflicted. “Where are you sleeping, Iasea?”

“At the camp. There's some soft patches on the ground that the druids have created. I will be fine.”

Alsabe reached into a purse and pulls out a few gold pieces, setting them on the table. “Get yourself a bed, Iasea.” Iasea shook her head, turning away. “Oh for Elune's sake don't argue.”

“Keep your money. I don't deserve it.” She stood and dusted the crumbs from the front of her dress. “Not after what I did.”

“I won't miss it, just take it.”

Iasea sighed and picked up the gold. “That is exceedingly generous of you.”

Alsabe chewed her lip. “I will try to convince my father to leave you alone for now.”

“Good night, Alsabe. Go home to your family. I won't trouble you again.”

Alsabe sighed and bowed. “Goodnight, Iasea,” she whispered. She turned and walked away as Iasea picked up the food on the table and wrapped it in a napkin. Once Alsabe was out of sight, she grinned like a cat. Go, little girl. Go off to your snug bed and think I am done with you.

[tindomielsilverthorn]

Look how beautiful they are!!!! @unwaveringstar did such an incredible job on them. We love them so very much. Such a pleasure to commission you and to have your beautiful art! Thank you again!!!

Lilybeth and Alsabe (@thebiganvil )became so close that they’ve decided they are sisters in every way that really matters.

Please do not repost or use our characters with the permission of ourselves and the artist.

Knee-up commission for @tindomielsilverthorn‘s and their husband’s WoW characters Lilybeth [left] and Alsabe [right] Silverthorn. It was a pleasure! I’ve never drawn WoW characters before so I had a lot of fun [especially with that hair!!]. I even learned a bit of lore c:

Thank you again!!

!!Commissions are open!!

[thehouseofsilverthorn]

The Blessing & the Curse

  Here we are again, thought the Matriarch. She cast her gaze around, taking in the mist gently rising from the lake to the west, the swirled spiral pattern in the grass here just outside the village. We seem to be favoring this place for our happier moments.  I suppose we could do worse, she mused, smiling inwardly. She looked over the glade one last time, reassuring herself that all was ready. At the heart of the spiral the font had been set and filled with water taken from the moonwell to the north, near the Temple. The blessed water glowed faintly in the twilight. For the tenth time at least she smoothed the fabric of her gold and ivory dress. Why am I so nervous today, she wondered, this is a happy occasion. Shaking her head, she took her place at the font, there to await her gathered House.

  From the south she saw him approach, her grandson, the demon hunter Forosuul. Arrayed in a formal kilt, chest bared to the wind as was the ancient way of their kind, as well as his wont. He drew near and nodded to her, saying softly, “The glade is warded all ‘round. We’ll not be getting surprise visitors today.”

  “I hope you’re right.”

  “If someone uninvited crosses my wards, I’ll know immediately, Grandmother”

  “Good.”  She felt a little paranoid, having him ward the entire glade, but their rivals had been shown to have little restraint. They’d come uninvited to a funeral rite, no reason to think they would not do the same for a blessing of newborn twins.

  Forosuul stepped to one side to await the rest of the House. They did not wait long. The path from the village was soon full of silver-haired figures. No retainers today, only family; a sea of palest violet and silver, the only exception was Lilybeth, mother of the twins. She proceeded all the rest, her cyan hair falling in gentle curls around her shoulders. On each arm rested one of her infant children; the boy, Ælithil, on her left, his sister Kalimè on the right. She walked slowly, still recovering from the ordeal of the twin birth. The rest of the House let her set the pace.

  The sun had gone far below the horizon by the time everyone was ready. They arrayed themselves in a close circle about the font, Kalithil and Lilybeth holding the infant twins on either side. Everyone was smiling. As Kajeda gently sprinkled the blessed water over the twins, Tindomiel and Alsabe chanted the invocation of Elune, asking her blessing and protection on the new generation of the Silverthorn line. Their words carried gently on the night breeze.

Elune, goddess of our home, Goddess of our hearth, We bring tonight new things New members of our line, In these lands, From which we spring. We ask you, Elune, to watch over them Watch over them as they grow. Watch over them as they live. Watch over them with love.

  When the prayer and the anointing was done, Alsabe took the twins, grinning hugely and bouncing them in her arms. Tindomiel, smiling beatifically, took her place next to her husband, Forosuul, while Kalithil and Lilybeth turned to the assembled House to say their thanks. Kajeda watched it all, thinking to herself that she had not experienced a more perfect moment in thousands of years.

  From the corner of her eye, Kajeda saw Forosuul’s head whip around, towards the south. His tattoos surged with power, casting a red glare over the assembled House, and in a flash of crimson he had dashed away. Kajeda, trusting him to deal with any intrusion, moved to shield Lilybeth and the twins.

  Lilybeth, more sensitive to arcane emanations than most, had felt a strange buzzing sensation at the same moment when Forosuul had turned his head. Ever curious, she had turned, and seeing Kajeda move swiftly in her direction, leaned to one side to see what was happening.

  It seemed to Kajeda that she could hear the wind in her ears, as if the fates were howling their hunger at her. Everything seemed to move slowly. She could see Lilybeth go wide-eyed at what she witnessed, could see the girl’s face twist into an expression of hatred mixed with grief. Turning, she saw the source of Lilybeth’s rage. Mire, with her shal’dorei felsworn in tow. Briefly, the single thought crossed her mind, You fools, why would you come here, and then she felt, deep in her bones, a crackling sensation like the gathering of a thousand storms.

  There was a blinding flash followed by a searing heat, and most of the assembled House was thrown violently to the ground. Kajeda, shaking her head to clear it, saw Lilybeth standing over her, limned in violet flames. Thrusting her hands forward, Lilybeth poured every ounce of power she could manage at the woman responsible for her mother’s death. Mire’s felsworn shielded her, causing Lilybeth’s furious magic to careen around the glade, consigning every tree and blade of grass to the flame. Lilybeth, screaming in rage, poured power through her outstretched hands until her weary body could take no more, and collapsed. Kajeda scrambled to her feet, trying to assess the situation.

  To her left, one of the felsworn had ceased his efforts. His body was rising into the air as a ghastly wail tore from his lips. His eyes began to glow like coals. Kajeda smiled grimly, knowing Kalithil had regained his feet and was dealing with the man. Behind her, Dæsin had shielded Alsabe and the twins from the initial release of power, but was now lying dazed as Alsabe protected the infants. Forosuul had used his fel-spawned abilities to careen across the glade, but was battered aside by one of the felsworn and slammed into the burning trunk of a great tree, stunning him momentarily.

  In that moment, the shal’dorei, no doubt believing he could provide cover to himself and his mistress and make an escape, chose to go on the offensive. Extending a withered hand, he let fly a train of green sorcerous bolts towards Alsabe and the infants she carried. Reacting with protective instinct, Kajeda flung herself in the path of the bilious darts.

  The pain was indescribable as the bolts tore through her midsection. She fell to her side on the scorched ground with an unceremonious thud, the fel magic eating at her insides. She watched the scene before her curiously, as if she could not quite understand what was happening. Silannah, her treasure, roared when Kajeda was struck. She charged across the burning glade, heedless of any danger.  The felsworn used his power to batter her to one side as he had done to Forosuul before. She tumbled across the clearing. With the felsworn focussed on her for a moment, Forosuul leapt into the air and let the fel within him come forth, transfiguring his features into a hulking, scaly abomination. He came crashing down on the felsworn’s head. Lifting the shal’dorei up, he brutally impaled him on his ancient warblades. He stood like that for what seemed like ages. Arms high in the air, the shal’dorei wriggling atop the blades Forosuul held. The creature’s blood was dripping onto Forosuul’s face and he was speaking to the felsworn through gritted teeth. His words were lost in the conflagration.

  Behind her, she heard a wailing cry begin.  It rose in volume and pitch, becoming a cacophonous howl. She was having trouble with her eyes, darkness creeping in from the edges of her vision, but she thought she saw her beloved daughter, Tindomiel, step forward. The howl was coming from her. Void power more potent than anything Kajeda had ever seen pooled at the younger woman’s feet and snaked across the burning glade towards Mire, who stood wide-eyed, in a panic over the fury she had engendered.

  As the shadows reached Mire they formed themselves into writhing tendrils and wrapped around her. Their tips bore into her flesh, burrowing down to her bones.  Soon Tindomiel’s howls of rage were joined by Mire’s screams of terror and agony. Mire’s eyes looked to Tindomiel, pleading for mercy from her one-time daughter. Tindomiel’s answer was a savage shriek. Slowly Tindomiel used her shadow tendrils to rend her birth mother’s body. Asked later, no one was sure how long it had lasted, for they had all turned their faces from the horror of it. When Tindomiel was done several slabs of bloody abused flesh struck the floor of the glade. Mire Whisperwind, Second of the House of Whisperwind, was no more.

  Soon the clamor of the sorcerous battle faded, leaving only the roar of the flames and the weeping of the survivors. Dæsin and Tellanon, remarkably cool-headed, regained their feet and began to gather everyone up to flee before authorities could arrive.

  Silannah, ignoring everyone else, gathered up Kajeda’s broken form and staggered away from the glade, trying to leave the fires behind. Afterwards she could never tell how long she walked, but she did not stop until she had reached green spaces once more. Some instinct or ancestral memory must have guided her steps, for when she slumped to the ground with Kajeda in her arms, she looked up and saw a thick-trunked tree with white bark and silver-blue leaves arching over them. On every branch wicked gray thorn sprouted, some a foot long.

 “A silverthorn…tree,” wheezed her beloved Kajeda. “How…did you find one? I thought they…died out.”

 Shocked that the Matriarch still lived, Silannah answered, “Hush, my love, it doesn’t matter.  Just stay with me.”

  Kajeda reached up weakly, her hand caressing Silannah’s cheek, “My treasure…my…shining gift, my magic spell…” Weeping with abandon, Silannah pulled her lover close, unable to find words. “My treasure…you are the greatest joy…”  Kajeda’s words were interrupted by a fit of racked coughing.  When the last spasm died, she did not draw breath again.

  Wailing inconsolably, Silannah rocked her back and forth for a very long time. When finally she relented, she laid her beloved out at the base of the silverthorn tree. Gathering stones from all about, she made a cairn over her body. She worked far into the following day. When the labor was done, she knelt next to the cairn. She stayed there for days, praying quietly through her tears.  At the end she stood, and said only these words: “I am no treasure.  I am a curse.”

[tindomielsilverthorn]

Matriarch & Patriarch

The next chapter of the Iasea storyline! This piece was done with @thebiganvil. Forosuul belongs to him. 

The streets of Old Town provided a good hunting ground to if you were looking for quick, simple kills. That area of the city had become the place that the seedy underbelly of society worked their trades. The lithe Kaldorei woman paced the uneven cobblestone slowly. Spying a rat scurrying along the wall, she lurched forward and snapped its neck. She didn’t notice the demon hunter blink at the odd behavior. Two more rodents came into view and she did the same to them, splitting their small bodies open.

Leaning against the stoop, Forosuul Silverthorn watched with some confusion. “Helping keep our city beautiful?” His rasping voice surprised the woman, her pink hair whirling around as she jerked her head to look at him.

Offering him a cruel grin, “If it makes you happy to think that, sure. Why not?”

Forosuul eyed her curiously. “You don’t know who I am,” he responded, somewhat shocked.

“No,” Iasea confessed. “No, I do not. But I can hazard a guess.”

He gestured for her to do so, “By all means.”

“Judging from your coloring, you are Silverthorn.”

With an arched eyebrow he answered, “Correct.”

“Given the fact that I have only heard of one demon hunter bearing those colors, you may very well be Forosuul. The Patriarch.” The final word was spoken with the barest hint of venom and for a moment, her voice took on an odd quality that was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

He bowed before here. “Indeed.”

“And since you come on the heels of the conversation with my sis…Alsabe, I imagine you want to speak?”

“Three for three.”

“Or am I already condemned,” she asked suspiciously.

“That remains to be seen.” He gestured at the ground in front of her. “What’s with the rats?”

Iasea sighed heavily. “It’s that or lose myself to the eternal hunger.”

The man’s eyes widened. “Death knight?” She nodded at him. “Strange that Alsabe didn’t mention that.”

“She isn’t aware of it. Not exactly something I wish people to know.”

Forosuul frowned. “Seems like something difficult to hide,” he countered.

Shrugging, she explained,  “It's fairly simple to keep her from touching me. And so long as she doesn't see me in the wrong state, she won’t find out.” Forosuul watched her, his expression thoughtful. “Does that trouble you?”

“Not as such, but something doesn't add up.”

“Hmm?”

“She said you were the youngest,” he told her. 

Iasea sighed, for a moment, she seemed genuinely saddened. “She doesn't know. I was away for most of her life.”

 He scratched his chin. “You served in the wars?”

Iasea nodded, “I wanted nothing to do with Kasuura's politics.” She pushed her vibrant pink hair away from her face. Forosuul arched an eyebrow. “So I became a Sentinel. Went off to fight. It seemed better than the social climbing,” she offered. 

 Forosuul scratched his chin. “When were you raised?”

 “Some time ago. During the Third War?” She seemed to mull that over for a bit. “Or was it after...I don't remember any more.” Forosuul chuckled lightly. “It's not exactly my favorite memory.”

“Hmm...” came his reply. “So, why the change of heart?”

 Iasea looked down at the stones beneath her feet. “I lost everything when Teldrassil burned. Seeing our people...dying all around me...I realized the foolishness of what I was trying to do.” She held up her hands in what she hoped would appear to be a gesture of surrender. One that would have him believe she was sincere. “Alsabe, your family, you are not to blame for my entire family being dead.”

Forosuul smirked slightly. “Are you very sure of that?”

She nodded. “It was Kasuura's doing. Her grasping at anything she could to get back into Mire's good graces.” Forosuul looked at Iasea sidelong. Seeing this, she asked him simply, “What?”

“This is a lot to accept,” he told her. 

 Iasea inclined her head, conceding the point. “I am sorry for the attack on the little one,” she offered quietly. Forosuul jaw clenched tightly. “She had nothing to do with any of this.”

“A little late to be reaching that conclusion,” he rasped. 

“Not if my original intention was to do it to many more family members.”

Forosuul narrowed his eyes. “Do you actually think you could have succeeded?”

“Kill all of you? No,” she lied. “But I wanted her to feel the way I did. Watch the people who mattered disappear one by one.”

“Well, you didn't even manage one,” he smirked. “If you had, nothing in this world could save you.  Do you understand?”

 “No. The men I hired were not...” she lowered her head. “I know.”

 “Oh, speaking of them...” he shifted, the threatening tone easing. “Why give them up?”

“If I give you my weapons, I cannot use them against you,” she replied. 

“One might argue they were pretty shitty weapons,” he laughed. 

“Perhaps. Some of the fault lies with me. I did not know that the girl had training,” she stated sullenly. Forosuul chuckled. “As such, they were not prepared for a fight.”

“They got one.”

“I heard.” She grunted, her expression seeming almost impressed, though she was guarded enough not to let much of that show. “She broke Thivo's collarbone.”

“He won’t have to worry about it much longer,” he grinned at her. Iasea sighed, but nodded. “Did you think I would grant them mercy?”

Iasea shook her head. “If they were honest about what they do, I doubt very much anyone would.”

“Did they tell you what they did to her?”

“They told me they beat her and tossed her off the cliff as was discussed. But she didn't land in the water,” she responded, with only the slightest hint of regret. 

Forosuul’s face went hard. “They kicked her until her ribs broke, one of them smashed her cheek,” he growled. “They shattered one of her arms as well.” Iasea winced. “And her leg. If we had found her any later, she’d have died.”

Iasea hung her head, her ears drooping for maximum effect.  “If they had done as instructed, she would have,” she told him softly. 

 Forosuul jaw clenched. “What were the instructions,” he demanded. 

“Knock her around until she was unconscious. Tie the note where it would be found and toss her in the water.” She swallowed. “The hope was she would die from the fall or drown. The small inlet there would have kept her visible for a few days until she was located.” This is it. This is where he will kill me, now that I’ve admitted it. 

 Forosuul clenched his fists, his knuckles losing what little color they had. “You should stop talking about it now.”

Iasea nodded, “I am sorry.”

“So what now for you?”

“I have no idea,” she shrugged. “If I can find some way to earn enough to replace my armor and weapons, I will go fight.” 

Forosuul looked at Iasea sidelong. “Fight where,” he asked her warily. 

“Wherever the Horde are,” she answered. Forosuul arched a long eyebrow. “What happened to my House was the result of Kasuura's scheming. But now I have nothing and our people have no place to gather strength. The Horde need to pay for that.”

“If I find you near any member of my House,” he whispered menacingly. “Or if they tell me you have so much as nodded in their direction, that is it for you, do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Your fate is not yet decided, Iasea,” he hissed. 

“No need for the threats. I will not be bothering your people any longer.”

 “Judgement for your actions is delayed.” The felfire behind his mask flared. “When this business with the horde is done...then I will decide what happens to you.”

“As you say.”  Iasea tipped her head to one side. “Tell me, why did you feel the need to take Alsabe in? She did your family no favors before losing her own.”

Forosuul narrowed his eyes. Discussion of his adopted daughter was a very sensitive topic and for someone who had threatened the House, a dangerous one. “She was a victim and she was of our bloodline.”

Iasea nodded at first before blinking. “What?”

“How many people have you ever seen that looked like me?”

“Not many, but enough,” she answered. 

The demon hunter smirked. “Every single one was Silverthorn, although most don’t know it.” He leaned back, watching her reaction. 

Both of her eyebrows shot up. “Is that so? Interesting.”

Forosuul nodded. “Alsabe was sent by Kasuura to spy on us, and she was very, very bad at it.” Iasea barked out a laugh. “She harmed us not at all, and ultimately became one of us.”

“I am not surprised she was a bad spy. It is not the skill she was most talented at.”

Forosuul narrowed his eyes. “Tread carefully,” he warned. 

“What she was best at was getting people to pay attention to her,” she grinned. 

A deep growl rumbled from the man before her. “I may stand here without armor or weapons, but it would require no effort whatsoever for me to take your life.”

 Her ice blue eyes flared in her face. “She could purr a name, anyone's really and they would take notice. I am not talking about the other things,” she quickly added. “I am speaking simply of her ability to draw anyone she wanted to, into conversation. If a distraction was needed, she could provide it.”

His entire body had gone rigid. “You would be wise to stop talking about her.  Now.”

Sensing she had reached his limit on patience, “I do not know what more I can say to prove my sincerity.”

Forosuul narrowed his eyes and studied her carefully. Iasea met that gaze, unfaltering. “There is something you are hiding,” he stated. 

 “What ever would that be,” she asked, doing everything in her power to sound genuinely confused. 

“You tell me.”

 With a shrug, “There is nothing left for me to tell.” 

“I doubt that very much,” he said flatly. Iasea chuckled mirthlessly, shaking her head. “You stand there acting contrite over your actions, but you carry yourself with far too much confidence for one who is supposedly so shaken.”

“I am sorry for what I have done,” she offered with her hands held out in a gesture of surrender. “I have given you everything I am capable of. You know my little secret, kept so carefully from Alsabe.”

 “In my experience, people with secrets rarely keep only one.”

“The only thing left is what you see,” she stated sullenly. 

“I see more than most,” he grinned at her. “You are not quite so alone as you would have me believe. Someone is helping you, but who that is, I cannot say. Not yet.”

 “Am I not?” 

 “You will be watched,” he warned her. “Just understand that.”

 “I thought as much. I would do the same, in your position,” she looked thoughtful. “May I ask something of you?”

 Forosuul arched an eyebrow. “Go ahead,” he waved to offer her permission, mostly out of curiosity. 

“Look after Alsabe,” came the unexpected request. “There is still so much good in her. Do not let her become soured by our people's politics like Kasuura.”

Forosuul narrowed his eyes. He straightened, his tattoos flaring. “I look after my daughter very well. Her show of mercy is the sole reason you are alive.”

She nodded and responded quietly. “Good. Someone should.”

 “Now you answer a question for me.”

 “All right.”

“If someone should look after her, why didn't you?”

 “She was not my daughter,” she sighed. “I had no say in the matter. By the time I returned, I was not the person I used to be.”

“A weak excuse,” he sneered. “But I suppose fitting, from one of your House.”

Iasea shrugged. “It is all I have to offer.” Forosuul grunted. “If you knew Kasuura, you would know why.”

A slow evil grin spread over his face. “In the end, I knew Kasuura very well.”

Iasea peered at Forosuul, her cold blue eyes flashing for the briefest of moments. Forosuul let out a low chuckle. “There was no protection for Alsabe, so long as she was under Kasuura's control.” She offered the information even as he took two steps closer, his form hovering over her. “The best thing for her was to leave,” she added barely above a whisper. 

“She is very well protected now,” he growled. “Do not test that statement.”

“I have no intention to.”

“We shall see. I think our business is concluded, Iasea Moonwhisper,” he paused, mostly for effect. “For now.” Iasea bowed low to him. “When the Horde has been shattered, you will see me again.”

“If I survive.”

“If you do not, then our argument will be put to rest,” he chuckled. Though not so deep within him, he was still wishing he could simply kill her right there. 

Iasea nodded. “Will I be seeing you on the battlefield?”

“It is possible.”

“Should I watch for an attack from friendly fire?” It seemed a fair question to her mind. 

“I told you that judgement was delayed,” he answered, not a little annoyed. “I keep my promises” Iasea nodded, conceding his point. “Until we meet again, Iasea.”

“Farewell, Forosuul Silverthorn.”

“Enjoy your rat killing,” he mocked. 

Iasea grinned at him until he turned and began to walk away. Fast as a cat, another rodent was in her hands. She ripped its head from its body as she glared at his retreating back. “Not as much as I would much, much larger vermin,” she growled under her breath. “Not as much as all of you.”

[tindomielsilverthorn]

💜 = Does your muse date others based on their appearance or personality, or both?

Oh this one is fun!

The Silverthorns are all effected by a spell on their bloodline called “The Pull” that draws the to one another. If they are far enough apart in the bloodline to be an advantageous match, it will cause any feelings of attraction to be extreme. So to a point, appearance does matter as all Silverthorns are white-haired and nearly white skinned.

Tindomiel was never attracted to anyone truly until she met Forosuul. The Pull pushed them towards one another. But for her, she could see that he was a very good man at the heart of him. Caring and generous, bold and someone worthy of her trust.

Lilybeth, not being of Silverthorn blood, does not fall under the Pull. For her, she was absolutely attracted to Kalithil based on his personality, and in no small part, his wealth of knowledge.

Silannah cares less for appearance and more for a person’s character. They need to be strong of mind, bold and willing to put up with her incredibly stubborn nature.

Dæsin is a bit of both. He fell for Alsabe because she seemed so very genuine, but he will not deny he found her intoxicating to look at.

Eliân? She just wants sex. Unless the person has bad hygiene, she really doesn’t care.

Kalimè fell completely for Estelæth’s looks when she was a teenager. She had the mother of all crushes on the woman. As luck would have it, they ended up being paired together. Este was meant to train Kali, and after a time, they ended up completely in love.

Niire is oddly attracted to her hairy dwarf mate. She never expected it to be so. But after getting to know him, his gentle way of being won her over and she allowed herself to really see him. It was all over at that point.

Niquisse is a looks girl. She was over the moon for how attractive Ælithil is. The fact that they get along so well is a major bonus.

[tindomielsilverthorn]

I was tagged by @sugared-cherries. Tagging @pinxiedust for Pinxie and @haleth for Ziri.

Name: Tindomiel Silverthorn
Alias: Tindo
Age: 8923
Height: 6’11”
Weight: 230
Blood Type: Do night elves have blood types? Let’s say A+
Eye colour: Silver shot with blue
Hair colour: Shimmering white


Date of Birth: October 15
Zodiac sign: Libra
Shoe size: US Womens 10
Favourite colour: white & blue
Favourite smell(s): Freshly baked bread
Birth gem: Opal
Race: Kaldorei


Talents: She is a talented singer and cook. 
An item they hold dear to their heart:She keeps a small trunk filled with treasures. However, two things are especially dear. The letter in which Forosuul first declared his love for her. And the rose he sent her along with it. She dried it carefully and keeps it safe. 
Favourite sound(s):The quietness of being out in nature, away from the cities. 
Fears: Losing Forosuul again &her own skill with the void. It terrifies her. 
Accomplishments: Escaping the family estate and training as a druid. She helped a team of heros stop the Lich King through her skills as a healer.


Your muses catchphrase(s): “Give it time”
Likes: Taking care of people, feeding people, putting broken people back together. 
Dislikes: Conflict. 
Any scars: A long, jagged one runs down the length of her abdomen. It is the result of her inability to fight with a sword and the reason she is unable to have children. 
Birthmarks: a small mole on her lower back. 
Something about your muse that is different from everyone else: She is an empath. To such a degree that heavy emotions can render her unable to function. 
What makes your muse cry: Frankly, just about everything. It’s one of the ways she rods herself of the emotions she takes on. 
What makes your muse happy: Forosuul, Alsabe, helping others, baking, taking care of their farm. 
What makes your muse laugh?: So many things. Mostly when people are being intentionally silly. 
Does your muse love their parents? Her birth parents? That is a no. Her birth mother emotionally manipulated her and abused her for almost her entire life. She didn’t know her birth father until very recently and they have a strained relationship because he pushes her away due to his own insecurities. Kajeda (deceased) formally adopted her into the Silverthorn House. She loved Kajeda completely. She has come to view Kalithil as her father and they are very close. (Though they argue on things a bit from time to time and they have to work through it. Usually by yelling at each other.)
Does your muse have any friends? Quite a few. Lilybeth, Silannah (after they worked through old issues), Estelæth, Duzülf, Dæsin, and recently Gilræn (though they are still getting to know one another). She’s always looking for more. 
Your muses favourite food?: Baked fish, cheese and fresh fruit. 
Does your muse follow a religion? She is a priestess of Elune. 
What would get your muse to fall in love with them?: she is so deeply in love with Forosuul, that she has no eyes for anyone else. But she still loves others on different levels. For the most part, showing kindness, compassion and a strong moral character would earn it.


Has your muse ever killed/murdered somebody? Why did they do it and what was motive?: She does not condone murder, by anyone. She has killed to defend herself or others. The most significant was her birth mother, Mire. She tried to avoid killing her for years, despite Mire doing so many things to her and the Silverthorns. But when Mire showed up with two felsworn at the blessing of Lilybeth and Kalithil’s twins, things went badly. One of the felsworn tried to kill the twins and Tindomiel’s adopted daughter Alsabe. Kajeda died protecting them. For this, the final straw was broken. Tindomiel called the void to her and tore Mire apart from the inside. And she made it linger. It is the reason she refused the Mantle of Matriarch. She fears her own power.


Does your muse have a type when it comes to physical attraction?: Forosuul. Wiry, Strong, long hair, a little stern in the face, but quick to smile. 
What does your muse find endearing personality wise?: When someone who is normally strong willed and confident shows insecurity.

[thehouseofsilverthorn]

The Big Day

This story piece written by @thebiganvil

The older-looking kaldorei sat on a carved stump before a cottage laying alongside the road running from Dolanaar to Darnassus.  He sighed contentedly, enjoying the cyan-filtered light of the morning moon cascading down through the heavy boughs of Teldrassil.  Hearing the padding of heavy paws, he turned and looked eastward, towards Dolanaar.  Walking their sabre’s at a leisurely pace, two kaldorei women paced into view, stopping a few hundred feet short of his home.  One was very, very tall, and thin, but wiry, like a tough river reed, and held herself with a dignity one did not often see in these times.  The other was shorter but athletic and muscular, surely a Sentinel, or at the very least a fighter of some sort.  Both wore exquisite formal gowns, one in blue, the other in white.  Both had silver hair and the palest possible skin for a kaldorei.  They didn’t notice the older man sitting just off the road.

The one in white, with the muscles, fidgeted, seeming ill-at-ease.The woman in blue looked at her, smirked and said, “Gown giving you trouble, Sil?” The one addressed - full name Silannah - glared at her without real venom, but replied, “I feel naked!  Where is everyone else?” “If you’d prefer naked, we could go over yonder,” grinned the taller woman, pointing at a stand of dense foliage further off the road. “Hilarious, Kajeda, remind me again why I wore this dress for you,” said Silannah, her face carefully set in an expression of irritation, but her eyes sparkled with mirth. “Because you know that later, I am going to take it off of you.”

The man beside the road was starting to think he should go inside. This conversation was obviously not meant to be public.  Before he could get up, however,  the two woman were joined by another party.

“Well you’ve got me th-” the one in white began, but was cut off. Both women suddenly went silent, hearing the soft thump of a pair of sabre’s paws on the road to the east.  Both relaxed and smiled as two figures came around a bend in the road. On the violet arcane sabre in the rear rode a pretty kaldorei woman, dressed in an unadorned white shift.  Ahead of her, riding a magical ruby cat, rode a kaldorei male.  Both shared the same pale skin and silver hair as the first pair, but the male’s skin was covered in scales and short horns sprouted from his head.  He was dressed in ancient kaldorei fashion for men, a long black kilt around the waist, trimmed in silver thread; he was shirtless, baring his shimmering red demonic tattoos to the air.  Wrapping his ruined eyes was a red cloth, the green felfires he had in place of eyes ever so slightly leaking through.

The man beside the road hissed a quiet whisper towards the door of his home, “Nadyia, come out!  You’ve got to see this.”  A lovely women joined him outside, outfitted in well-worn leathers, her turquoise hair - complimenting the man’s own dark green - pulled back to allow her to work.  She ducked back a little, instinctively, at seeing the gathering on the road.  “That’s a Demon Hunter, Nadyia.  Here on the Tree.  Who would have thought…”  The woman, for her part, said nothing, watching the group apprehensively.

Kajeda, the woman in blue,  held her arms out, smiling ear-to-ear, “Forosuul, my grandson,” she cried, embracing the Demon Hunter as he tried to slip off his mount. Returning her embrace, he whispered “Thank you so much,” in her ear, to which she held his face in her hands and smiled at him, kissing both of his cheeks. Kajeda then turned to the woman.  They stood only two feet apart, both gazing at one another, eyes shining, finally Kajeda reached out and gathered the younger woman up in her arms, saying quietly, “Tindomiel, my daughter-by-choice.”  Tindomiel buried her face in Kajeda’s neck and wept.  Their joy was palpable. Off to one side, Silannah watched all of this, smiling happily at the union of her recently acquired family.  Forosuul turned to her and bowed low, saying “Cousin.” She inclined her head, “Step-grandson,” with a grin on her face. Momentarily caught off guard, he gaped at her, then shook his head, refusing to take the bait. Kajeda finally spoke once more, “Now we lack only our standard bearer, and our…special guests,” she said, grinning a little wickedly. “You lack nothing,” came an imperious voice from across the road.  With a cascade of violet, the mage Kalithil dropped the invisibility spell with which he had cloaked his party, and stood forth.  Like the others, Kalithil had silver hair and pale skin, but his skin was lined with great age and care.  He was robed and hooded in blue and gold, as was his wont.  Behind him stood two young kaldorei girls.  One with the same hair and skin as everyone else present, the other with hair of watery blue.  The blue haired one bounced on her heels and seemed to shake with excitement, while the other stood dull and silent, looking exhausted and miserable.

“Well, something is certainly up,” whispered Nadyia.  “What could this be, Radnaal?” “If I had to guess, I’d say we are seeing an old-time Gathering here.  That lady in blue, she has that Matriarchal look, wouldn’t you say?”  Nadyia nodded and went back to watching.

Kajeda greeted the newcomers, “Kalithil, welcome.  And Alsabe, and Lilybeth, is it?” The blue haired girl nodded so quickly her hair was displaced.   The other only nodded robotically.  Slipping into the ancient dialect, she continued, “We thank you all for being here to Stand with Our House on this day of days,” she said, smiling beatifically, “Kalithil, thou shall precede us, bearing aloft Our colors.  Behind thee I shall walk.  On the side of my strength shall walk my Scion, and on the side of my heart my Consort.  Tindomiel, my supplicant, shall proceed behind me, whilst our guests and retainers shall make up her train.”

Hearing the ancient dialect, Radnaal gave his mate a “told you so” look.  She rolled her eyes at him

Kalithil, also reacting to the archaic speech,  smirked knowingly at Kajeda, then nodded, and produced a simple staff seemingly from nowhere.  Wrapped around its head was a blue cloth, which he unfurled, revealing the deep blue field of the House standard, and the device, a circle of interlocked thorns, worked in silver thread.

Seeing the standard, the man beside the road was so surprised he forgot himself and exclaimed, “Silverthorn?”  At this interruption, all eyes turned to him.  He stood there, looking for everything like a deer caught by the beam of a lantern at night.  Kajeda glided over to him. “Do I know you, sir?” “Oh, um, no ma’am.  I just recognized the standard.  Your House has been around a long time.  But…well…they said you were all dead.” “Hmm..who said this?” “Oh, before I had this place,” and here he proudly thumped the doorframe of his cabin with a meaty fist, “I had one just like it outside Astranaar.  You here a lot of gossip if you sit by the main roads, keep your head down, and your ears open.” “What is your name?” “Oh, uh…Radnaal Maneweaver, Matriarch.”  Pulling his mate out from where she’d been hiding behind him, he added, “And this is my mate, Nadyia.”  Both of them bowed, somewhat awkwardly. Smiling at both of them, Kajeda said, “Well, Radnaal and Nadyia, I consider you a good omen.  It warms my heart that our House was not forgotten in the centuries of our absence.”  She smiled on then, adding in a conspiratorial whisper, “Keep this meeting quiet, will you?  We’re surprising someone,” and winked. Radnaal blushed, and Nadyia nodded her head vigorously.  Smiling once more and inclining her head respectfully, the Matriarch of the House of Silverthorn rejoined her family.

After she returned, Kalithil spoke a word of power.  Coalescing out of the mists, a great golden cat took form, one of the lions found in the warmer climates.  It was barded with blue and gold, matching his robes perfectly.  He settled into the saddle and locked the standard into his right stirrup. “Why are you riding,” asked Kajeda flatly. Arching an eyebrow, Kalithil replied, “Because there is no way this old man is walking all the way through this damn city, and my mount is majestic and lends gravitas to our proceedings.” Kajeda threw her hands in the air, conceding.  Kalithil swung the big cat around, a satisfied victory grin plastered on his face. “Oh, Kal, as my Standard Bearer, you are also my Crier.  Please announce us to all we pass.  Loudly.” Kalithil turn in his saddle, an incredulous look on his old face, “What?  No one does that any more!” “Well, you are.  You aren’t using any energy on walking, so we may as well..how did you say?  Add gravitas to our proceedings,” replied Kajeda, smiling a little too sweetly.  Kalithil scowled, but nodded grudgingly and faced forward once more.  He began to walk his great cat towards the city, the others moving to their places behind him.

Watching them proceed towards Darnassus, Radnaal opined, “Something big’s happening today, mark my words,” to which his mate gave him a look that simply seemed to say, “well, obviously.”

Upon reaching the city gate, Kalithil grimaced, raised his voice and bellowed, “Hear ye!  Kaldorei of Darnassus!  The House of Silverthorn proceeds through the city!  Behold our Sublime Matriarch, who walks behind me barefoot, like some sort of-OW!”  His head lurched forward, solidly thumped by the rock Kajeda had thrown.  Wincing and raising his left hand in surrender, he went on.  “Our Sublime Matriarch, Kajeda, returned to us!  We seek parlay with the House of Whisperwind!”  He looked back, gave Kajeda a look that said “good enough?”  She nodded, and on they went, Kalithil repeating his lines with each person they spotted. By the time they reached the Seat of Whisperwind, they had a crowd following them, precisely as Kajeda had hoped.  By tradition, if the people of the city, whatever city, wanted to witness a parlay between Great Houses, they had to be allowed.  This forced Tyrande, and by extension, Mire, to come outside and do the whole thing in public. Tyrande made the procession wait close to an hour.  Doubtless, they hoped the crowd would scatter, rendering it a private affair once more.  But with a demon hunter standing openly, and in a place of honor, with a Great House, everyone was curious.  Forosuul, ignoring their scrutiny, stood with his head high, his eyes rarely leaving his beloved.  The people of Darnassus chatted and waited.  Everyone wanted to see what this was about. Finally, they emerged.  Tyrande, with Mire on her right.  Malfurion was not present, so the place to her left was intentionally left empty.  Rather bad form; she should have had a trusted retainer or close relative in that place, but Tyrande never let slip an opportunity to remind everyone who her husband was, and how very devoted they each were.  Behind her a few retainers stood, looking confused and fidgety. Wth everyone in place, Tyrande bowed, and called out,  “Silverthorn, you are welcome in my House!  Matriarch, I am pleased to see you among your people once more!  Had we known you were coming, we would have prepared a more suitable welcome.” Lies, thought Kajeda, but she bowed even lower, and responded, “My thanks to you, Lady Tyrande, and my apologies.  I had simply assumed you would be forewarned of our arrival.  We come today to discuss a matter of import to both of Our Houses.”  As she finished her eyes darted to Mire.  Her mention of being forewarned had the desired effect.  Mire’s eyes were pits of hatred, directed at Alsabe.  Alsabe, seeing this, went utterly white and looked at the ground.  Kalithil was smirking behind his helmet, obviously enough that the helm did not conceal it. “Indeed, Kajeda.  Let all bear witness.  State your purpose, please.” “Some time ago, a daughter of your House, Tindomiel, came to Us, and, for reasons of her own, sought asylum.  She petitioned Us to be joined to Our House.”  She waited a moment, and let the ripple of surprise run through the crowd.  Concealing a grin, she went on, “Long did We debate this, as it was no small matter.  But Tindomiel’s plea touched Our heart.  We come today to announce that We have accepted her, and from this day she shall be joined to Silverthorn, and be considered as mine own daughter.”  At that the crowd was hushed, utterly shocked.  To leave the greatest of Great Houses was unheard of. Tyrande, standing opposite, seemed placid and regal as ever, but to Kajeda’s trained eyes, she was fuming.  There was little she could do to stop any of this.  She had only one card to play, and she played it, calling out, “Tindomiel, my niece, come forward!”  From behind, Tindomiel emerged.  She walked slowly forward, until she stood before Kajeda.  She kept her eyes locked on Tyrande, refusing to even glance at her mother.  “Daughter of Whisperwind, is this true?  Do you seek to leave us?  Do you do this of your own free will, free of…” here she paused, her gaze falling meaningfully on Forosuul.  “Dark influences?”  All eyes followed hers, watching Forosuul.  He stood resolute and unmoving, but the felfires in his eye sockets smoldered, sending little wisps of billions green curling into the air, and the glimmer of his tattoos flared, casting bloody light on those nearest him.  He did not flinch from who he was, or from their stares.  Kajeda swelled with pride. Tindomiel, recognizing the ploy, deflected it well, saying, “Yes, my Matriarch.  My choice to leave predates my meeting any member of the House of Silverthorn.  For if you recall, many years ago did I leave home for the Moonglade, to study as a druid.  It was then that my choice was made, even if it meant to be without a House.  But now, discovering Silverthorn, my heart has found its kin.” Tyrande’s jaw imperceptibly clenched at this.  If she attempted to refute this, the plot to kidnap Tindomiel and convince her of Forosuul’s death might be exposed.  Mire’s scheming had brought her full circle, and she was trapped.  Realizing this, her eyes darted to Mire, giving her a dark look.  Mire, for her part, was almost apoplectic with rage, and did not notice Tyrande’s scrutiny.  In fury, she began to step forward, and opened her mouth as if to speak.  Tyrande held her back, flashing her a meaningful and angry look.  Mire could not speak in this setting without leave, and Tyrande was not giving it.  Shaking with impotent rage, she stepped back.  The gathered crowd watched all of this drama with baited breath.  Darnassus was usually so quiet, they’d be talking about this for years to come. Finally, Tyrande composed herself and replied, “So be it, Tindomiel.  You shall follow your heart.  You are Whisperwind no more.”  So saying, she gave Kajeda a perfunctory bow, turned and fled inside her home, her procession rushing to keep up with her.  After they’d gone, Mire remained behind, staring at her daughter.  The crowd waited, holding its breath.  Mire had a reputation for viciousness, and they wanted to see it confirmed. She let out a single, strangled word, “Daughter…” Tindomiel cut her off with a shout, eyes flashing, “No longer!”  With that, Mire crumpled to the ground, a keening wail escaping her lips.  Kajeda, watching her, looked at her with softened eyes, almost feeling sorry for her. Tindomiel looked at her new Matriarch, saying, “She cries out for the death of her ambition, Mother, not for me.  Do not pity her.”

[unwaveringstar]

Knee-up commission for @tindomielsilverthorn‘s and their husband’s WoW characters Lilybeth [left] and Alsabe [right] Silverthorn. It was a pleasure! I’ve never drawn WoW characters before so I had a lot of fun [especially with that hair!!]. I even learned a bit of lore c:

Thank you again!!

!!Commissions are open!!