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faythian · 6 years

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First Trip to Dalaran

Yay! I’m glad I found Elfebruary! Thank you @fiannavalkyrie for telling me about this!

Digging through my stash of elfy stories has revealed that I 1) have too many elves, and 2) don’t write in any kind of linear fashion. So I will be posting anything I have in no order. :)

This short is about my WoW belf warlock, Brien, and follows prompt #25: Foreign Cuisine. Depending on perspective, bacon can be... quite foreign.

(If you have any questions about any of my characters, please feel free to ask me! I would love to tell you about them and answer your questions ^^)

Goethal kept a careful watch on the young mage as she leaned over the gryphon’s saddle, gasping and squealing in delight, and nearly squeezing poor Brien’s lungs empty.

“It's a lot bigger than the maps make it out to be,” she said. “Look! That's the Citadel! Where the largest library is! And there! The Hold, where the Counsel meets! Oh! Oh! Oh! And that’s the Exchange! They have so many shops!”

The small elf smiled shyly and tried to keep up with all the landmarks Lynah was pointing out. Dalaran was a large city, about the size of Silvermoon, currently floating roughly a half mile above an enchanted Northrend forest. He gazed over the rooftops and minarets. The architecture was similar to high elven, with tall towers capped by teardrop shaped domes and accented with gold trim. But the humans’ choices were decidedly more subtle than the high elves. Nothing here was sharply broken by bold horizontal lines, or stark contrasts in colour.

The little warlock turned back to his lover as she squealed—again—and pointed out yet another building: the fashion house of her favourite designer. He sighed happily. He’d no doubt be drug into that place. He looked down at his simple blue tunic and brown breeches. Hopefully, she stays tame… Maybe I can find something for Falen in that district. Despite his insistence, both Brien and Lynah knew their boyfriend liked fashionable clothing.

Fzuudrom, carefully and securely stowed in a cage gripped by the gryphon, barked happily as they circled over the great mage city. It made Brien giggle. Getting the demon into the cage in the first place had proved to be a challenge… and he had whined nearly the whole trip from Valgarde. He’ll be glad to be out.

Lynah bounded off the gryphon, bouncing excitedly toward the landing platform’s main office. She couldn’t believe it! She just couldn’t believe it! She was actually in Dalaran! She, Lynah Dal’melorn, was finally getting to see where all of her professors had trained, and where her mother had found her style!

“I have to make sure I get to Malinia! Their fall collection would be out now! And the library! By the Light, do you know how much is in there? The theories! The studies! The spell—oh! And the terrarium! Brien, you can get those herbs you need! Their fashion district can rival the Royal Bazaar any day! Did you know that…”

Brien and Goethal watched after Lynah as she continued to babble, running off through the office building and into the city, her pink gown flowing after her like wings. The druid chuckled, handing his son Lynah’s satchel.

“Go check us in. I’ll meet up with you in a few hours for dinner.”

“It’ll probably be just us…”

“She’ll show up. She gets hungry.”

“Yah, she’ll show up for breakfast. She’s too excited to remember dinner.”

Brien giggled as he unlocked the cage. Fzuudrom barked and wagged his tail, trying to wait patiently. He, too, bounded out onto the landing platform. The felhunter ran in several circles about Brien, sniffing in every direction.

“This place might be a little too much for ya, huh?” Brien asked, scratching Fzuudrom behind his antenna. The demon gave a few short whines before resuming his happy barking. Brien started for the main office, Fzuudrom running across the small elf’s path several times as he decided he needed to smell everything. He stopped long enough to sniff at a flower pot, a bench, a guard (who raised a curious, if annoyed, brow), a gnome (who nervously shooed the demon away), and a rat. (For its part, the rat stood up on its hind legs and wiggled its whiskers before scuttling off.) The felhunter’s antennae were up and alert as he shot across the street outside the office and circled a lamp post. Several times. Brien whistled, side-stepping an up-side-down broom, and started walking down the street. Obediently, the demon, and Pinky, trotted after him, ahead of him, and around him.

Suddenly, the demon stopped, one paw raised. He sniffed the air, both antennae pointing forward. His tail started to wag again. He barked excitedly as he took off down the street.

“Fzuudrom!” Brien’s ears lowered behind his head. He sighed and ran after the stupid demon.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

She still wasn’t sure… She hooked her hair back behind an ear. Her eyes narrowed as she wiggled her nose a bit. She took in the different smells, trying to discern each individual one. Humans ate some interestingly flavoured food. She poked at the slices of bacon again. Each had been cured and cooked in a unique fashion, producing a mirad of smells.

Anna sighed and tried another bite of the black peppered bacon.

She froze when she heard the barking. A felhunter dashed into the inn’s common room. It stopped for a moment, then made straight for her. She pulled her feet up, dropping a shoe. The demon bounced, barking at her and wagging its large tail. It picked up her shoe and ran back toward the door. It stopped, spun around, and ran back to her, dropping the shoe and barking at her. When she did nothing, the demon rolled over, and then bounced and barked in a few excited circles, nudging the shoe.

“Fzuudrom!” A small, huffing elf stood in the doorway. The felhunter bounded over, circled the elf, and then ran back to Anna. It sat down, barked once more, and continued to wag its tail. Anna wrapped her arms around her legs and stared wide-eyed at the odd demon and what she assumed was the warlock that had summoned it. The elf stared at her for a moment, then walked over. He—or she?—picked up the fork from the floor. The elf puckered their lips to one side as the demon whined quietly. Blushing slightly, they handed Anna back her fork.

“Um… Thank you?” she said, taking the fork. The elf smiled shyly, their ears lowering slightly behind their head. Anna cocked her head slightly.

“Sorry about him… He gets excited easily…”

Anna smiled, nervously. “He’s… uh… an odd one, isn’t he?” Okay, that was definitely a male voice…

“Yah… um… I think… I think he might’ve been dropped on his head… as a pup… Gimme that!” The elf held out his hand. The demon wagged its tail, holding Anna’s shoe again. Anna stopped staring at the felhunter, and now watched the elf. The elf’s ears were now straight back behind his head in agitation. They’re so expressive!

“Drop it. That’s not yours. Or mine.” Happily, the demon put the shoe on an empty chair. Then ran out of the door. “Again?”

Anna leaned over in her chair. “Looks like he’s rooting around in the rosebushes… He likes the smell?”

“He’s lookin’ for a stick…” The ears drooped.

The young woman laughed and offered the chair with her shoe. Brien dropped his and Lynah’s satchels underneath the table and introduced himself.

“I’m Anna.” She smiled brightly, the nervousness seeming to fade quite a bit.

“Which inn is this?” Brien asked.

“The Two Crows.”

Brien smiled shyly again. “Do you know where the innkeeper is?”

“Oh, yes! She’s the elven lady over there by the orc.”

He excused himself briefly to go pay for the rooms. At least he ran into the right inn… He turned back around, noting that the patrons had all gone back to their conversations, and looked at the woman before he made his way back. She was human, with straight pitch black hair that stopped at her shoulders. There was a slight blue sheen to it that intrigued the little warlock. Her eyes were odd, too… one blue, one gold. Her face was round, but flat, with an easy smile. She was dressed in simple, fitted clothing: brown capris, linen shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a yellow vest. She wore unadorned black flats.

Anna was laughing at his felhunter when he returned to the table. Fzuudrom was on his back, thoroughly enjoying having his belly scratched. “Are you sure you summoned a demon? ‘Cause this seems more like a dog to me.”

“I wonder sometimes, too,” Brien said. His ears lowered slightly as he regarded the demon.

“Do they always do that?”

“Huh? No, most demons don’t—”

“No,” Anna pointed at his ears, “that. Do your ears always move like that? I,mean, kinda like the way a human’s eyebrows do? I always thought that was weird…”

Brien felt the slight blush. “Um… well… yah, I guess they kinda do… An’ why would you think somethin’ you normally do is weird?”

“Oh, a lot of things humans do are weird! Like this.” She pointed at her plate. “They have so many ways to cook pork! Maybe too many… but anyway, it’s weird. It’s like, they can all agree on what chicken is supposed to taste like, but not pork. I, mean, they have to have all these different ways to eat it. It has so many… interesting flavours… I’m still trying to decide if I like it or not…” She stopped and looked at Brien.

“Um… Don’t you know what bacon tastes like?”

Anna stared at him, blinking a few times. She pursed her lips in thought, looked around quickly, and then leaned in. “No,” she stated. Brien raised a brow. “How… can you not’ve had bacon before…?”

Anna chuckled and gave him a guilty grin. “Promise not to say anything?” The elf nodded. “I’m a dragon,” she whispered. “I’m hiding here, from Granddad. And we don’t… usually… cook our food.”

The ears lowered as Brien regarded his table companion, and whether or not he could trust her statement. She blinked distractedly at him a few more times before reaching a hand up toward the side of his head. Quickly, he grabbed her wrist, trying to pin her hand to the table and not cause a scene.

“What was that for?” she demanded, a smile still playing on her face behind her low growl. “I just want to see how they move.” The little warlock took a few breaths, trying to calm himself.

“Please don’t do that.”

“Do what? Why? They’re—”

“I… I don’t like people touching my ears.”

“That seems silly.”

“I just don’t.” Brien let go of her wrist, glaring. Anna pulled her hand back and rested her chin in it. What was that all about? she wondered. What’s wrong with his ears? Fzuudrom lifted his head and whined at the two of them. “Okay,” she nodded. “Now back to the more important topic!”

“Yah… you said you’re—”

“Elves eat pork, don’t they? Er, bacon?”

“Um… well… yah…” Brien was so confused. Anna pushed the plate toward him.

“Okay, so which of these is bacon supposed to taste like?”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The strong sense of arcane gently rolled off the young woman. Goethal had gotten used to the mages and the city itself, but this nearly made him trip as he walked through the door. The druid raised a curious brow. An archmage maybe? Brien was pointing at a plate of bacon, apparently explaining it to the young woman at his table. She propped her head in her hand, waving the other one out into nothing. Brien stopped mid-explanation, turned and waved.

“This is my ann’da,” the small elf said, pointing at Goethal.

The young woman smiled brightly. “Hi! I’m Anna!” She stared curiously at the druid’s hand for a moment. “Oh! Right! Nice to meet you, Mr. Ann’da!” The druid bit his lip as Anna vigorously shook his hand.

“Um… Goethal…” Brien corrected her. “Ann’da means father.”

Goethal chuckled and took the empty seat at their table. Absently, he scratched Fzuudrom behind an antenna and raised a brow at the plate of bacon.

“She’s never had bacon before,” Brien shrugged.

“Still not sure if I like it. This one was really weird…”

“’Cause it’s cooked with berries.”

Goethal laughed, plucking some bacon off the plate. Carefully, he rolled the taste around his tongue. Salty—of course—and sweet, with just enough tart to bite. “Remind me to find out what berries they used. Your grandfather would love this!” He raised his brow again at Anna. Her bi-coloured eyes stared intently at him.

“You’re a night elf,” she stated.

He nodded. “Yes.”

“He’s a high elf.”

“Yes.”

“And he calls you father.” Goethal nodded once more. Anna looked back at Brien, confusion painted all over her face. “Aren’t you too short to be half kal’dorei?”

The druid laughed. Brien giggled.

“He adopted me,” the little warlock smiled.

“So his mate didn’t hatch you?”

“No.”

Now Goethal was confused. He narrowed his eyes just slightly at Anna. “Hatched?”

“Yah, hatched. I, mean, I was. So were my clutch-mates. But… wait. Aren’t elves hatched, too? That’s how a lot of things are born! I, mean, if you’re not hatched, then how? Do you just—POP!—into existence? Or grown? You’re grown, aren’t you?” Anna rested her chin in her hand and looked wide-eyed at Goethal. “I, mean, you’re a druid, and all nature-y things grow, right…?”

Goethal leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. He quickly glanced about. Most of the patrons were gone, and those still in the common room were too far away to hear their conversation. “There is far too much arcane energy coming from you for you to be human,” he stated quietly. Anna’s smile became a bit nervous. Goethal raised a brow. “What are you?” She looked about, then leaned forward.

“It’s like I told Brien, I’m… a dragon.”

“From the azure flight, it would seem,” the druid nodded.

“Yah…” Her smile disappeared and she stared at the plate. Brien cocked his head to one side, glancing at Goethal. “I guess this wasn’t such a good hiding spot…”

“And who are you hiding from?”

“My granddad… He’s kinda gone nuts and I don’t wanna follow his orders. I thought… city full of mages… arcane…”

“Your granddad?”

Anna glanced up at the druid. “You’re not gonna say anything or turn me over to him or tell—”

Goethal leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “I can tell you’re trying to hide,” he rumbled, “but, frankly, you talk too much and aren’t careful about your words. I’m not going to turn you in, but I have a dragon sitting at my supper table trying to hide as a human.”

“I thought about being a squirrel…”

“Who is your granddad? I want to know how much trouble we might be getting into by knowing you.” Anna looked from Goethal to Brien and back again. “Malygos…” she mumbled, her shoulders slumping. Brien’s eyes went wide. Goethal’s brows rose halfway to his hairline.

“You’re the grand daughter of an aspect?”

“Well… a great-great…” Anna stopped and started to count on her fingers. “Great-times-eight-grand daughter.” She slumped again. Goethal plucked another piece of bacon off the plate, condsidering it and Anna.

“This one’s more normal, for Dalaran’s take on bacon.”

#elfebruary2018 #Brien Trueraven #World of Warcraft #original story

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