"Dream On" - Aerosmith (Rockabye Baby!)
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The sea looked like a black velvet sheet in front of him, reflecting little spots of light from the heavens. Sleep escaped him and spending time along the beach of Azshara was soothing as thoughts raced through his head. No, just a single thought.
With child.
Are you angry with me?
Cristianno picked up a stone off the beach and tossed it into the sea. How could he be angry with her when she managed to have what he believed was one of the most beautiful miracles in the world? He wasn’t angry. He was saddened, not because she was with child, but because his woman wasn’t. He knew how his friend longed for this, and it filled him with pride and joy for her and her mate. It was well deserved and if her mate decided to pound his face in for assuming that he wasn’t a good mate for her, Cris deserved it.
He chuckled a little at the thought of a troll hitting his face. As much as he loved the culture, he had his negative run-ins with trolls. Nonetheless, he knew he had to apologize to this one for assuming that his role in her life was non-existent. He thought about how he would feel if someone had accused him of not being there for his beloved. The thought made his head drop to his chest, his auburn hair falling forward over his shoulders.
It had been made clear to him that having children was something that was not possible at the time and while he didn’t seek it. With the herb he took everyday, he made sure that it wasn’t possible for him to procreate, and yet, he longed for it with all his heart.
His father’s words kept playing in his head over and over: A man’s true worth lies in what he can offer the world. Children. Lately, Cris had not felt his worth. The idea of doing this stupid stunt he was preparing for proved to him that he was not ready for a family. But if he had a family? If he had children and both he and his beloved weren’t so busy or always running out? Would he be planning this attack against the Horde? Or would he be planning a trip to show his child the beauty of the world?
Another stone flew out into the water. No, he wasn’t angry. He was happy for her, and jealous. That would pass, however. One day, his time would come, unless his recklessness caused his demise, but Cristianno refused to think about that. He closed his eyes and imagined an infant in his arms with a tuft of auburn hair on his small head and a small slender set of pointy ears. His mother’s old lullabies played in his mind over and over and he found himself humming to the imaginary child. He would learn to speak Thalassian and Common, and Orcish. He would love to run in Mulgore, being chased by his father, as they pretended to be running from the enemy of the day. Their day would end when they returned to their home, a small hut off the beach shore. The child would run to his mother while Cris would watch the waves hit the ship at a short distance in the water. The illusion caused Cristianno to confuse the waves in the daydream with the waves hitting against his feet.
Reluctantly, he opened his eyes and sighed deeply, his feet grasping onto the sand beneath them. The first rays of sunlight were starting to show themselves. Cristianno began to walk in the ship’s direction, thinking hard about his next move. If he got rid of the herb, his beloved could possibly be with child, but that would be irresponsible on his part. She would have no part of it. Would she be in favor of him having children with other women? The idea was foolish knowing that she would also not agree with such an idea. Besides, he wanted to be part of the child’s life. He stopped and reached into his pocket, removing a small leather pouch. That very pouch contained the herb that prevented him from having children. If he tossed it into the ocean, and refused to get more, what would happen? Would it be fair? What about the plan?
His fingers gripped tightly around the pouch and looked at the sun-lit ocean. He lifted his arm, pulled his fist back and prepared to throw the pouch into the water. One throw was all it would take. And yet, he couldn’t do it. All he could think about was the possibility of dying on the Horde airship if things went horribly wrong. His arm dropped to his side, his hand tightly gripping the leather pouch. No, he couldn’t do it.
“I’m already doing something stupid, I don’t need another,” he whispered. He looked at the pouch in his hand and placed it back into his pocket. He approached the ship and began to board, returning to his life of danger, mockery, flirting, and looting. Cristianno forced a smile on his face, hiding all the ideas running through his head, but the few tears that ran down his cheek would betray his hardened façade if anyone managed to see him at the right moment.
It was early in the morning. No one would know about that morning’s secret wish and how close he was to making it happen.
No one.
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