Deep within the Orgrimmar prison, in a pathetic, makeshift office lit by torches, the blonde haired Admiral gathered his paperwork, preparing for the end of his day. He kept glancing at the door, as if expecting someone, but he quickly returned to his work, filing papers and ripping others apart. Order was of the essence to him and he knew he had to have it if he intended on going anywhere, and he had plans, that is, if he managed to play his cards right.
Whether she was expected or not, Laerchel slipped into the office, quiet as a breeze on a summer day. It had been some time since she'd last seen Tarin. Work had kept them both busy for the past month? Light! It had been a month. In full uniform, freshly cleaned to boot, Laer leaned back against the door, her weight closing it with a muted click. She wondered if he'd notice her entrance or if he was too busy with his never-ending pile of paperwork to spare a glance her way.
However, when he did notice someone walk in, in his usual, businesslike tone and with the same words he always said when someone walked in, he simply said, "Report." It didn't occur for him to look up since many grunts had reported to him throughout the day.
For some reason that made her smirk, "The marshes of southern Badlands are a felhole, I'd rather have been spying on the alliance camp still outside the dark portal. But, the job is done and I'm on leave for the next three weeks, Admiral."
Her voice made him smile, something that he had just started doing since their relationship had continued to be steady the past few months. However, his voice remained monotonous. "It had to be done, soldier." He lifted his green eyes and smiled at her. "But I am so glad to see you." His tone softened and he lifted his head to get a better glance at her and an overall satisfaction befell his face.
A grin spread from ear to ear as she sashayed across the small room. Dropping the pretense of official duty she sank down into one of the chairs in front of his desk; it groaned under her weight since the thing was likely older than Orgrimmar itself. "I came straight here after reporting to Warlord Stonefist. I missed you Tarin. How have things been in your dungeon?" Her eyes observed the darkened stone room and she wondered when Garrosh was going to let him out of this damn closet?
He leaned onto his desk and softly whispered, "I missed you too." He smiled and sat up straight once more, speaking clearer, "They've been rather quiet. I don't like it. Rumor has it that things are stirring up out there, but nothing has crossed my desk. Something tells me I'm still being punished." He exhaled and leaned back in his seat. He was obviously tired and very rarely did he display it, but he was comfortable with the company before him. "However, I must be doing something right. I was given one week leave, so..." Once more, he lowered his voice, in his bashful way, "I was thinking we should go somewhere." He smiled. "I mean, if you wish, of course."
Well, he was such an organized person and that went straight out the window as the tiny elf leaped from her seat and over his desk, a foot knocking some papers aside as she landed in Tarin's lap. Thankfully his chair was the sturdiest of the set in his tiny little office. "Of course!" Her hands held the sides of his face as she looked in his eyes. But where to go? "Did you have anything in mind?" Her money would be on Silvermoon knowing him, but the man could surprise her.
He watched the papers fall and he gulped, but remained calm. He eyed the door as she landed on his lap, but knowing that his hands were below the desk, he held on to her. His voice was softened, "I was thinking Dawnstar Village. But as I said, if you wish." He seemed to hesitate a bit before placing his head against her arm. This was definitely something he would not have done before. It wasn't protocol.
Cristianno would kill her if he saw this sort of affection exchanged between the two. "That sounds quite lovely." She leaned her head against his, "You need the rest." And god help him if he mentioned work; she would smack him. The thought of the two of them in a small village, far away from work and stress was quite the pleasant thought. "How soon can we go? Now would be good enough!”
He nodded and patted her leg, giving her a gentle shove. "I was getting ready to leave, but my papers have fallen." He looked down at the papers on the floor and shook his head.
Blinking she looked down, "Sorry, I got a bit excited. Let me help clean it up." She slipped off his lap and stole a quick kiss before handing papers up to him.
He smiled and accepted the papers. "I would just leave them on my desk, but that would not be right. Things must be put in order."
Laer burst out in a giggle fit, "I would help sort them but your filing system is all your own." They really were the odd couple, though to be fair, Laer was raised in the wilderness, whereas Tarin was raised in multi-room mansions and a servant for every need possible. Someday, she'd have to share some things with Tarin. Someday.
He looked at his desk and sighed. "It...won't be bad if I just leave it like that...right?" He seemed that he was seeking her approval. It just wasn't normal to do things half-ways.
After getting the last piece she stood up and leaned against him, "You should leave it how you want it." It wasn't her desk, or her work. He needed to be able to find it when he needed it. Her fingers squeezed his bicep lightly.
"But then we would never leave. These are prisoner files and orders. I would have to re-organize them and file them away." He looked down at her.
She pondered a moment, "Sort them into two piles, prisoners and orders. The rest you can do when we get back. That would make things manageable. RIght?”
He nodded and began to glance at each paper, organizing them as he looked at the next one. He was rather quick at separating the papers. "I still need to go get my suitcase. If you don't mind. And maybe find something that is not a uniform." His attempt at making jokes was not that great.
She knew what he was getting at and chuckled, "I need to drop by the barracks and pack up. Meet up at the zeppelin tower in thirty minutes?" If they didn't part ways, neither of them would make it further than Tarin's house.
He stopped sorting and nodded, giving her his normal, stiff smile. "Yes. I will be there." He leaned toward her and kissed her cheek. Slowly , he was becoming more daring, in his own ways.
She blushed just a little, still grinning. "I will see you soon, dearest." First time she'd used a nickname, and with that she practically pranced out of the office. Only regaining a stately march as his office door closed.
Outside the prison, a beggar lingered near the stairs. A large brimmed hat covered his face and a tattered cloak draped his entire body. He used a crooked cane and held a small tin cup in his bandaged hand. He seemed to drag his feet as he moved from side to side, hoping for change, or for someone to walk out of the building.
As luck would have it, he got Laerchel walking out. Her mind a mile or a thousand away and a grin were cracking through her attempt at a straight, stern, appropriate face. (To be fair, the guys in her platoon have been calling her Smiley for a long time now.) She didn't notice the beggar as the door practically slammed shut behind her. The guards on the inside no longer even looked toward the door in the absence of the "intruder".
The beggar’s voice was creaky as the spoke, "Spare change, missy?" He shuffled toward her, the tin cup stretched out toward Laerchel.
"Sure!' She fished down into the breast pocket on her uniform. She wasn't surprised to be approached, really; the girl had a soft spot for the downtrodden, what with someone having taken mercy on her and all. A hand full of silvers with a couple of coppers tinked into his tin. She knew not to do gold. It would just get him attacked or jailed as a thief.
“How about a shirt? Food? A ship? For a pirate down on his luck?" The last few words sounded clearer and definitely recognizable. The large hat's brim was slightly lifted with the tin cup, showing a familiar smile.
“Well, if you need to see someone about a ship, I know this short green fucker. He might help." As the voice cleared she recognized the Captain. "Perhaps though, I can take you somewhere to get a bite to eat." And to get out of that ridiculous get up. "And maybe a room for the night to get yourself clean?" Oddly, she found herself determined not to miss her flight with the Admiral.
The voice returned to the creaky tone, "You are too kind, Laer." He followed her with that awkward walk he was using the entire time he was disguised.
She patted him on the back, in that way one would stabilize an old man. "Its no problem." Their walk found them in the Drag, at a dingy bar with a few rat holes in the back. In one of those tiny (usually rented by the hour) rooms, Laer grinned and practically tackled Cris. How long had it been? “Oh Light! How have you been?"
He laughed a hearty laugh and hugged her tightly. "Too long, love. What's going on with you? Look at you! All proper and shit. It seems as if you really like your job." He reached and gave her a long kiss on the cheek.
She chuckled, "You just so happened to have caught me fresh back from a deployment. Met with my Warlord and all that shit today." She slumped down on the stool against the wall, leaving the marginally, more comfortable bed to Cris. "And you know? I do like it. I mean, Cris, I kill people for a living and I like it." She got a bit stone faced as she said it, the words rolling in her head, "Weird huh?"
Cris took his hat off, revealing long blonde hair "Not weird at all. Sounds fun, actually." He chuckled and stretched out on the bed. "But I would hate to lose you to the madness here in Orgrimmar."
She chuckled, and felt herself hoping he didn't recognize the rank on her arm. She was a Blood Guard now, and part of her was proud of it. "Nah, I miss the sea, and the forest. And not wearing these damn boots." With that she kicked at the ground, leaving a scuff on the dingy floor. "What brings you to this madhouse anyway? Nice hair." She winked at him, her own still the color of golden thread. "How is your lady?"
He smiled, "Alaia is fine. We're fine." He seemed lost in thought for a moment before he spoke again, "We all just docked about a week ago. We've been at sea for a long time."
"Where did ya dock at? I'm glad everyone is fine." She really did like this one, Alaia. Hopefully Alaia would be good for him in the long run.
"Booty Bay. I'm sailing under Captain Cristanno Wolfblood. New captain, controlling the western seas. Those who are loyal are keeping their damn mouths shut." He smiled, his blue-green eyes twinkling. "It's working out."
She nodded, "Gonna keep the blond? It looks good on you." She chuckled and leaned her head back against the wall.
"Fuck no. I'm just waiting for things to die down before I go back to my hair color." He looked at a few strands of hair and sighed. "Yeah, I hate this look." He smirked and looked at her. "You look beautiful. Radiant even."
Her flesh turned bright pink. Her heart fluttered. No matter what she and Tarin had, Cris was...Cris. "Thanks Cris." She giggled even, as a hand took hold of her braid, "I'm glad you came to see me. I've been worried."
"Worried? Love, it's me." He winked at her and chuckled. "I'm fine."
"Yes, I know it is you. That is why I am worried."
He looked down at the tattered cloak. "Gerty says hello."
She chuckled, "How is my favorite cook doing?" Shifting a bit, an act of will was keeping her from tucking against his side.
"She's been great. Cooking as always. From what she said, she's bonding with her family once again. I’m happy for her." He seemed to be rather comfortable on the shoddy bed. He casually smiled at her.
Laer nodded and shifted to perch on the stool, on her toes in a crouch. Ever squirrely that girl. "Are you going to be in Orgrimmar long? Or where can I reach you in Booty Bay?"
"I'm only here until tomorrow night. I promised Alaia I would go back to her soon. You can reach me in Booty Bay, but oddly enough, if you need to contact me, send it to Silvermoon. I left my headset on the ship, so I can’t contact you through that.." He lifted a knee and glanced down at the hat in his hands. "I came here for a reason, Laer."
"I figured you might have. You would have sent a messenger if you were just trying to get me back to the ship."
Cris nodded and lifted his blue-green eyes, gazing straight into hers. "I need you to kill someone." His tone and look were both dead serious.
That foreign Laerchel took over. All look of pleasantness and warmth left and her face could have been cut from stone. "Who?" It was almost more of a demand than a question. Her body was still save for the subtle motion of breath.
Two words were spoken: "The Admiral."
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