"Sleeping with Ghosts" - Placebo (thanks niela!)
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His blue-green eyes opened as he felt her arm slither away from his body. The ominous sky over Ghostlands hid the sunrise overhead, but he knew morning had arrived. His wife had promised to leave early in order to help him, but he didn’t want her to leave. He had been without her for so long, the simple act of her walking away was too painful for him. It pained his heart more than the pain in his chest cavity and more than the pain from his broken ribs.
Her lips leaned over to his ear as she whispered, “You do not belong to death, but to me. I love you.” With her skillful silence, Niela exited the abandoned room. Cris opened his eyes once more and took a deep breath. Soon, someone would arrive to watch over him and the few moments of solitude would be gone. He tried to roll over on his back, but the wounded ribs impeded any movement. The fire nearby was close to dying and as he stared at the dying embers, he tried to recall the events of the night before.
There was Gunner, the tracker that once sought to kill Cris for what he assumed was breaking his sister, but after said “sister” betrayed him, their comradery strengthened, both feeling the same betrayal from the same woman. It was he who volunteered to find the lost captain. How he managed to convince Tia’Zula puzzled Cris. Tia was extremely protective of Cris and she wouldn’t trust anyone except for the crew, and maybe even Niela, to find him, but here was Gunner, finding him on the shores of Azshara, giving him a potion to help regain some strength, and even popping his leg back into place. Tia’s words were a command, “Tank ‘im nao, Wolf.” He had no other choice; Gunner had rescued him, and he was grateful. In the back of his head, however, the only wish he had was that Gunner would not ask him to help him rescue his “sister.” That was the one thing Cris would never, ever do.
Tia, the troll witch doctor, began working on him as soon as she was able to examine his wounds. Her eyes widened at the missing shark teeth along the side of his neck and she was relieved to see the large tooth still attached to the center of his neck. “Joo be stupid, Cristianno,” she whispered as Gunner went out for water. If the main tooth was removed and he was unable to retrieve it, he would be dead. However, it wasn’t the teeth that worried her. She could replace those. The large tooth hungered. It was a vessel of souls, and it needed souls now. The pain in Cris’ chest wasn’t simply the ribs aching, but rather the tooth demanding to be fed. He had hours before his next calamity in his life struck. Tia made sure he was safe, physically at least, reducing the fever and mending much of his cracked ribs as possible. She could have completely healed him, but she knew how much Cristianno hated magic. The rest of the healing was up to him now and time.
She remained by his side, until Niela arrived. The elf appeared out of nowhere, tired, muddy, and trembling as her green eyes glanced upon her ailing husband. Trusting her presence, Tia excused herself and Cris had his lover all to himself. Her presence was soothing and his heart seemed to gain strength once more. “You’re a fool,” she muttered. Cristianno tried to chuckle. It seemed the women of his life were quick to remind him how impulsive he was.
Then he asked the question that had been tormenting him for two weeks: “Are you…?”
She shook he head. “No, I’m not.” Cris had anticipated this response and he had planned to hug her and breathe a sigh of relief, understanding how difficult it would be for both to raise a child with their occupations and during the time of war in the world, but instead, he simply looked away, hiding the pained look in his eyes. He had thought about the idea of being a father and dealing with the hardships, but the ache in his chest and he pain in his ribs and leg returned his reveries back to reality.
“What kind of father would I be if I keep getting beaten like this, eh?” His attempt at humor was weak, and Niela noticed this moment of weakness, cradling him in her arms and speaking of possible children for the future. She knew how to soothe him. She knew him well.
“I’m going to get back at them, Niela,” Cris finally said, once his nerves had been calmed.
“They will pay, yes.”
But it was more than payment to Cris. The grudge against the Horde grew stronger. Instead of disliking them for their organized, criminal characteristics, he hated them. He hated that others thought they could simply beat him for what he believed in and he hated the idea that one orc controlled the entire order that his life revolved around. The Sin’dorei can burn, Niela had once whispered against his lips, and now, as he stared into her green eyes, he whispered to her, “The Horde will pay.”
However, Niela’s main concern was keeping him alive for him to reach his goal. The fever was down, he was not in any serious, physical danger, but without the soul he required, his life was on the line. Cristianno began to fall asleep in her arms, clinging on to her like an infant in need of his mother.
Soon, the world he knew would be back to normal; new plans would develop, new ideas would emerge. He would continue to live in secrecy with his wife and his crew would gain more with the urge for revenge out at sea. But for now, his body needed to heal and the hatred within him needed to boil a just a little more.
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