Silvermoon City was only a shadow of its former glory, the once grand streets silent. Death had come to the elves, taken so many of them; the ones that remained suffered - grief wracked with the torment of withdrawals, magic fading from their city and their veins.
But hope sprung ever eternal, especially in the land of golden dawns and summer days. Possibilities existed, the potential to escape the pain and suffering, avenge their fallen. Restore Quel'thalas to its former glory and removed the signs of the Scourge that still ran through the city and most of their lands.
And Lettie was going to be part of it.
Of everything, that seemed the most impossible for her to believe, at least for the mage. It was easy to accept that Kael'thas was going to find a cure for what ailed them, even tolerable to accept that they would be working with the Kal'dorei. It was not easy for her to believe she would be going. Though it was not for any prowess as a mage that she was accompanying the contingent leaving with Kael, but rather her talent as a musician.
Seated on a low stool, the blonde woman shifted, lute in her lap nearly sliding to the floor. She caught it before it left her lap and she bent over the instrument, carefully tuning the strings, keeping the sounds soft. Evening was upon them, and the majority of their small contingent was busy preparing for sleep, the future journey, or whatever else kept them awake at night. For the bard, the night was the time of life: the pain and lethargy that fed through her veins abated some and song came more natural to her heart. But she refrained from playing anything so not to disturb the rest, the only sound escaping her a low whistle, somber to fit the mood of the evening.
Finally, content that the lute was tuned correctly, she stood, her gaze seeking the tall figure that taken on the mantle of leadership for their people. He stood alone - and that, Lettie decided, would not do. On quiet feet, red robes barely brushing the ground, she joined him, peering up at Kael'thas with a bright grin. It was hard to be happy in their state, but she attempted it still.
"Ponderous thoughts are going to give you wrinkles, you know."
It is hard to be cheerful in these dark times. With so few of them... without his father... And knowing the man that caused all of this on some sort of personal level made this ever present turmoil coil ever tighter inside him. He must find a way to help his people.
But how? And when? There is so much to be done and so many other places that need him to come to their aid as he'd promised due to this allegiance and that alliance. And how can he leave Dalaran to its ever troubling fate? But when all is said and done who will come to their side in return? Who is willing to help his people?
Kael cants his head to the side as she approaches. Soft steps followed by the brush of a gown brushing along the floor. It must be Lettie if only because the tuning of her lute was heard just mere seconds ago. Her soft voice confirms what he already knows.
"I suppose that is why all the great Kings have them. For what is ruling without ponderous ever present thoughts? Even my father could not avoid them... and he had so many more that should have come about."
But his life was stolen from him and that is a loss that he is uncertain can ever be recovered from. It's at least a greatness that he will never achieve. He's already set those restrictions in place by denying himself the title of king. His father will always be held far above him thus never giving himself a chance to find anything equating his great glory and reign.
"I find myself not knowing what to do. At a loss... as it were." With everyone sleeping and only she here to listen he does not mind speaking so freely. He'll never find rest if he doesn't voice all his great concerns anyway... She is council just as much as she is musician.
And if someone cannot voice and air these concerns openly with someone trusted it may wind up in a world of poor decision making later.
"What good was all that time away if all the knowledge gained does nothing for the present?" Regrets? He's full to the brim with them. Over and over he goes through it all. Every possible choice that could have led to a slightly different outcome. If this hollowing ache doesn't drive him mad first these vicious thoughts will.
"We lost so many that should have been allowed to age gracefully, showing wisdom on their faces and in their hair," she commented. So many of them were gone - including their beloved king.
Anasterian had always seemed a wise old king, handsome enough among a people blessed with beauty. Lettie had accepted his lines as part of his age rather than the stress of his position.
"Still, he was long-lived, and that contributed to the dignity of his carriage and those lines. Don't sell yourself so short right now." It is hard, sometimes, to consider the future free of the hollow ache the destruction of the Sunwell left inside them all and to think the loss of their people might not be so overwhelming. But there has to be a future, at some point, where they have some measure of contentment. Lettie won't ask for happiness, yet.
"No one knows what to do," she continues, after a moment. "There are no guidelines entitled 'What to do when a madman commits genocide against your people and leaves them to suffer terribly' because no one expects this. Not even our greatest tales offer guidance." She sighs, shrugging. Her hands are empty, and she suddenly wishes that were not the case, always too fidgety. "But there is hope in them. Just like there is some use in the time you spent away. Connections, knowledge, useful skills."
Even though Kael'thas is their prince and leader, Lettie still reaches over and grasps one of his hands, holding it between both of hers. "If anything, you are a better mage for your time among the humans and the council. And you understand our position in the world better than any of us remaining could."
She squeezes his hand, letting it drop after a moment.
Her touch is not unwelcome or unwanted. He's spent much of his time in Dalaran and being far more familiar with people than a prince should perhaps be. He does not yet hold an unwelcoming presence and certainly not right now when companionship with those few that remain are a much needed commodity. And though she is just a minstrel of the court he considers her a friend. It is why she is going with him to help find a solution. He has little in the way of council at present and is in dire need of a strong voice. One that sat and heard much of his father deeds and accomplishments as king
Even now she speaks wisly. He does know a great deal about the world. He studied and learned and wanted to be a part of it more than anything. Who better than he to guide them to a solution? If only all his knowledge proved useful but he continues to not know where to tread and go and his heart only cries out for revenge against the madman that stole so much from his people and him.
"This too... is only a setback." Ever common phrasing from his time in Dalaran. One that never ceased to make Jaina Proudmoore giggle no matter how flawed the calculations or experiment were to his studies. "But one thing at a time. The undead assault Dalaran once more and we must defend the city. When the dust settles we will find the means to help our people." Perhaps working with the humans and the Night Elves will offer guidance on these matters. Surely he will have time to ask.
"As far as tales lacking in regards to madmen destroying your home... I hope you are composing one as each day passes. For you are seeing first hand how it will be done and I would like to hear how it goes once this is all finished."
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minstrels2017-07-10 07:33 pm
no subject
But hope sprung ever eternal, especially in the land of golden dawns and summer days. Possibilities existed, the potential to escape the pain and suffering, avenge their fallen. Restore Quel'thalas to its former glory and removed the signs of the Scourge that still ran through the city and most of their lands.
And Lettie was going to be part of it.
Of everything, that seemed the most impossible for her to believe, at least for the mage. It was easy to accept that Kael'thas was going to find a cure for what ailed them, even tolerable to accept that they would be working with the Kal'dorei. It was not easy for her to believe she would be going. Though it was not for any prowess as a mage that she was accompanying the contingent leaving with Kael, but rather her talent as a musician.
Seated on a low stool, the blonde woman shifted, lute in her lap nearly sliding to the floor. She caught it before it left her lap and she bent over the instrument, carefully tuning the strings, keeping the sounds soft. Evening was upon them, and the majority of their small contingent was busy preparing for sleep, the future journey, or whatever else kept them awake at night. For the bard, the night was the time of life: the pain and lethargy that fed through her veins abated some and song came more natural to her heart. But she refrained from playing anything so not to disturb the rest, the only sound escaping her a low whistle, somber to fit the mood of the evening.
Finally, content that the lute was tuned correctly, she stood, her gaze seeking the tall figure that taken on the mantle of leadership for their people. He stood alone - and that, Lettie decided, would not do. On quiet feet, red robes barely brushing the ground, she joined him, peering up at Kael'thas with a bright grin. It was hard to be happy in their state, but she attempted it still.
"Ponderous thoughts are going to give you wrinkles, you know."
no subject
But how? And when? There is so much to be done and so many other places that need him to come to their aid as he'd promised due to this allegiance and that alliance. And how can he leave Dalaran to its ever troubling fate? But when all is said and done who will come to their side in return? Who is willing to help his people?
Kael cants his head to the side as she approaches. Soft steps followed by the brush of a gown brushing along the floor. It must be Lettie if only because the tuning of her lute was heard just mere seconds ago. Her soft voice confirms what he already knows.
"I suppose that is why all the great Kings have them. For what is ruling without ponderous ever present thoughts? Even my father could not avoid them... and he had so many more that should have come about."
But his life was stolen from him and that is a loss that he is uncertain can ever be recovered from. It's at least a greatness that he will never achieve. He's already set those restrictions in place by denying himself the title of king. His father will always be held far above him thus never giving himself a chance to find anything equating his great glory and reign.
"I find myself not knowing what to do. At a loss... as it were." With everyone sleeping and only she here to listen he does not mind speaking so freely. He'll never find rest if he doesn't voice all his great concerns anyway... She is council just as much as she is musician.
And if someone cannot voice and air these concerns openly with someone trusted it may wind up in a world of poor decision making later.
"What good was all that time away if all the knowledge gained does nothing for the present?" Regrets? He's full to the brim with them. Over and over he goes through it all. Every possible choice that could have led to a slightly different outcome. If this hollowing ache doesn't drive him mad first these vicious thoughts will.
no subject
Anasterian had always seemed a wise old king, handsome enough among a people blessed with beauty. Lettie had accepted his lines as part of his age rather than the stress of his position.
"Still, he was long-lived, and that contributed to the dignity of his carriage and those lines. Don't sell yourself so short right now." It is hard, sometimes, to consider the future free of the hollow ache the destruction of the Sunwell left inside them all and to think the loss of their people might not be so overwhelming. But there has to be a future, at some point, where they have some measure of contentment. Lettie won't ask for happiness, yet.
"No one knows what to do," she continues, after a moment. "There are no guidelines entitled 'What to do when a madman commits genocide against your people and leaves them to suffer terribly' because no one expects this. Not even our greatest tales offer guidance." She sighs, shrugging. Her hands are empty, and she suddenly wishes that were not the case, always too fidgety. "But there is hope in them. Just like there is some use in the time you spent away. Connections, knowledge, useful skills."
Even though Kael'thas is their prince and leader, Lettie still reaches over and grasps one of his hands, holding it between both of hers. "If anything, you are a better mage for your time among the humans and the council. And you understand our position in the world better than any of us remaining could."
She squeezes his hand, letting it drop after a moment.
no subject
Even now she speaks wisly. He does know a great deal about the world. He studied and learned and wanted to be a part of it more than anything. Who better than he to guide them to a solution? If only all his knowledge proved useful but he continues to not know where to tread and go and his heart only cries out for revenge against the madman that stole so much from his people and him.
"This too... is only a setback." Ever common phrasing from his time in Dalaran. One that never ceased to make Jaina Proudmoore giggle no matter how flawed the calculations or experiment were to his studies. "But one thing at a time. The undead assault Dalaran once more and we must defend the city. When the dust settles we will find the means to help our people." Perhaps working with the humans and the Night Elves will offer guidance on these matters. Surely he will have time to ask.
"As far as tales lacking in regards to madmen destroying your home... I hope you are composing one as each day passes. For you are seeing first hand how it will be done and I would like to hear how it goes once this is all finished."