#Avie Siverbrooke

[anorthalas]

A Most Unexpected Expectation

The following story was written by the wonderful @edaigoa​ to pair with the graphic featured at the end of this post in a collaborative story we’re writing. Enjoy!

Sitting at his desk, Kalyanar looked over the parchment Avie had handed him. It was finer than anything he could normally afford, crisp and expertly produced, but for once, the richness of it did not bring a scowl to his face. Instead, he was smiling, fingertips running gently over the embossed emblem his lover had ordered printed on each and every sheet. It was something he could have done himself, with some work, but having it gifted to him with an excited grin had warmed his heart. That she had specifically chosen a modified Brightquill symbol meant more than he could say.

With his lips pursed, he set his usual quill aside, rummaging about in his desk for a moment before pulling out another, along with a tray and a runed ring. The new quill  - or rather, old, as he had to blow a layer of dust off - was made of thick, heavy metal; despite the obvious care that the individual vanes had been sculpted into a realistic feather shape, even an orc might have found the pen cumbersome. It was, by all appearances, too heavy for practical use. The round tray and ring both matched the quill, made of the same silvery metal and etched faintly with runes. The tray was set aside, and a bottle of fresh ink that shone faintly with mana was poured within. The ring, Kalyanar slipped over his thumb; a loose fit, until it wasn’t, sitting snug at the knuckle after only a moment. The printed parchments were stacked, tapped on the desk, and stacked again. He flipped through the pages, thumb ring brushing the edge of each sheet before the were laid out on the desk in front of him, in neat rows and columns until all the available space on the desk was filled, with a single master parchment and a scrap of notes directly in front of himself.

He had spent ages on those notes, short though they were; Avie dictating and editing on the fly as he dutifully read out the lines, writing scratched out and rewritten until perfected. Despite their shared excitement, they both wanted it to be just right.

Ring still on his thumb, he took up the hefty quill in a light grasp and tapped it on the edge of the ink bowl; bowl and quill alike rang like a delicately crafted bell. The quill split- halved and split, again and again, copying itself into thinner and thinner slivers that surrounded the bowl, floating in midair. Kalyanar reclaimed the original in a much more comfortable grasp, now that it was reduced to the thickness of a normal quill, the metal vanes and barbs of the feather thin enough to waver in the air.

He dipped the quill into the ink, and it’s copies followed like a flock of angry hummingbirds, nibs taking up ink like nectar and flexible metal tines softly buzzing together with every motion. He took up a position over the master parchment- and the copies mirrored him whirr of finely ringing metal as they jostled for position over the other sheets. Kalyanar waited calmly, despite how his own nerves jangled along with the chiming feathers; only when each quill was as still as the one in his hand did he shift, moving the pen back and forth without touching parchment. Each and every one mirrored his motions in perfect chorus. Glancing briefly at his test sheet, the scribe set quill nib to parchment and began to write with his finest, most formal script.

For a while there was no sound but the gentle scrape of quill upon parchment and the faint buzz of metal tines; every so often, he returned to the ink bowl, and the mirrored dance turned to organized chaos as each quill rushed to echo the motion in a flurry of metallic feathers and jabbing quill points. Somehow, Kalyanar neatly avoided getting pricked, the magic more organized than it appeared. With the steady hand of a scribe, Kalyanar filled in the page; at some point, he heard Avie back come in behind him, the only warning the rustle of her clothes and the soft, indrawn breath of her surprise as quills whipped about. He smiled, but didn’t comment, even as he felt the weight of his lover’s ley-bound gaze upon his back and the magical scrivenery tools.

For all the preparations and care, the actual writing did not take long. Formality completed, Kalyanar signed his signature at the bottom with his own personal script that included a heavy dose of showy flare- but leaving plenty of room for Avie to do the same. A breath of air over the parchments- hot, unnaturally so, and laced with embers that did not burn - dried the remaining wet patches in the ink in record time. Only then, did he turn, quill deposited on the rim of the ink bowl with a flurry of followers that slowly carded back together into one fat quill.

“What do you think?” He asked, holding the master parchment up for inspection with a hopeful smile. “It should be just as you wanted. I’ve been working on this ink for a while... I ground up the tailing shards from Lori’s enchanting into the pigments. I feel like I nearly enchanted my mortar and pestle half a dozen times process of testing, but I think I’ve got the right method down. Hopefully it’s not too bright? It still looks good on this end, so I figured this was as good of a time as any to test it-”

“I can see it,” Avie said, neatly interrupting his rambling; her voice soft with wonder as she grasped the parchment with shaking fingers. The shimmery black ink glowed with mana under the spellbreaker’s leysight, making normally imperceptible writing just as visible to the blinded woman as it had been before. Suddenly, with a single gesture, a whole avenue of life was abruptly reopened for her.

“-Ah. Good. I’m glad,” Kalyanar breathed, at a loss for a moment, before he reached up from his seat with a gentle hand, palm resting on his beloved’s arm as she blinked rapidly, clearly trying to keep tears at bay. “Hey. Come here?” He offered, sliding his chair back from the edge of the desk. There was a moment without a reaction as she kept staring at the parchment, oft-white eyes glowing an intent lilac, before Avie’s arm slipped around Kalyanar’s shoulders as she claimed a spot on his lap; she avoided putting pressure on his bad leg with familiar ease, despite the faint tremble in her step.

“...it really isn’t too bright, is it?  I tried to use a moderate amount-”

“It’s fine,” Avie laughed, the words breaking with tears and the sharp sound of a sniffle despite her obvious happiness. “It’s perfect. Kalyanar, I can see it. That's perfect. And so are the words.” She finally looked away from the parchment to beam at Kalyanar, before leaning in to kiss him soundly. By the time they pulled apart, Kalyanar’s cheeks were flush and damp from Avie’s tears.

“...I wanted you to be able share this with me,” he whispered, forehead resting gently against her own. “This, more than anything.”

“Thank you. It’s the best present.” Another sniff and Avie roughly scrubbed a hand over her cheek, before she straightened up with a toss of her hair, reclaiming her poise with dignity. “But. I hope you weren’t expecting me to sign all of these by hand?”

Kalyanar let out a relieved laugh, tilting his head to rest his brow briefly on her shoulder. “Of course not.” Grin growing easily into a toothy smirk, he slid the ring off his thumb, dropping it neatly into Avie’s palm. “Here. I can show you how this works.”

Brows furrowing, Avie stared at the offering.

“...I am going to get stabbed by your army of quills,” she laughed in return. Avie turned the ring over in her hand- before slipping it onto her own thumb, fearless as ever.

“Nonsense! You’ll be fine. Give the pen a tap. It will still remember the parchments…”

“I’m not sure I remember how to sign my own name.”

“Don’t even joke. You’ll be fine. Here, let me show you...”

Not long after the ink was dry on dozens of identical signatures, the entire collection of copied parchments could be found posted around the Dawnspire, and slipped into the mailboxes of every significant friend, acquaintance, and noble found with the bounds of Quel’thalas:

House Silverbrooke of Anor’thalas and the Brightquill Family of Silvermoon City

Dawnward Avie Silverbrooke and Lightward Kalyanar Brightquill would like to announce the expectation of their first child, to be born in the coming month of November.

Signed: Avie Silverbrooke & Kalyanar Brightquill