[Tanakyll] Duty
"This is delicious." I smile and set my plate aside to lean against Tiradell, wrapping an arm around his waist. On the other side of the room, Red sulks against the wall, and Kagg is engrossed in examining a broken construct with his piglet. "I admit I am surprised you found the time."
He laughs, pulling me close, his voice--deep for an elf, though high for an orc--tickling with his breath against my ear. "I made time, Tana. You and Kagg are always worth it."
I smile wider, turning to nuzzle his cheek, but pause as I see something dark behind his eyes. I frown. He has not been home much these past few days... "Have the dreams returned?"
"What? No, no." He seems startled. I pull away, moving to face him and sitting down again, peering into his face. He shakes his head, dark reddish hair falling in front of his eyes before he lifts a hand to brush it back. "I'm fine, Tana."
I place my hand on his, stroking his fingers gently. "You are troubled."
He sighs then, running a hand over his hair once more. "I don't want to bother--" He sees the look I give him, and chuckles, placing both his hands in mine. "I know, I know. I talk too much and say too little. It's..." He shrugs, looking strangely helpless for a moment. "It's this whole Silvermoon thing. Paperwork, petty crime, death threats." He gives me a crooked grin. "You know, the usual."
I hold his hands tighter, and he squeezes back, the pressure saying more than words can. He lets out a sigh, looking toward the open door and the river running by outside. "They're talking of making my role as temporary Regulus permanent. I don't want it, Tana. The city's a mess, and the people-- it feels like I do so damn much and no one's ever satisfied. I'll be able to do even less if I'm stuck behind a desk all day." He looks to me, and I see the lines of weariness and frustration around his eyes. "But what can I...?" He trails off, simply weaving his fingers into mine, gaze lowered as his shoulders slump and he hangs his head.
I remove my hands from his, reaching to place one firmly on his shoulder, then with the other lift his chin gently to meet my gaze. I cover the dismay I feel at the return of his old pain with an encouraging smile as I speak, hoping he will listen. "You are strong, Tiradell." I strengthen my grip on his shoulder, and he looks up at me with those eyes that bear the same mark as my skin. "You know what you must do in the role you have been given." He begins to look away again, and I reach out to stroke an ear, earning a startled giggle. I smile, genuinely now. "Silly elf. You must not worry about those who would see you abandon your duties."
He looks at me, spreading his hands. "I protect the Sin'dorei, Tana. You know that. But when the Sin'dorei do not wish to be protected, what can I do?"
I pat his cheek, then drop my hand to his chest, pressing my palm against his shirt above his heart. "You already know. In here."
He shrugs, looking a bit sheepish, and brushes his hair behind an ear again.
"What you do is not for praise or reward, and you must not expect such." I meet his gaze, willing him to understand. "'Sheep fear the dogs when they forget the wolves.' Is it not as you told me?"
My elf smiles, though he still seems troubled. He reaches for his plate, and the half-finished portion of fish, filling his mouth with food in place of words and motioning for me to do the same. I pick up my own plate, eating carefully, savoring each bite. It is, as I told him, delicious. But now, with worry hanging over me, the taste is harsh and bitter.
I did not know he was so unhappy. I should have known.
He laughs, pulling me close, his voice--deep for an elf, though high for an orc--tickling with his breath against my ear. "I made time, Tana. You and Kagg are always worth it."
I smile wider, turning to nuzzle his cheek, but pause as I see something dark behind his eyes. I frown. He has not been home much these past few days... "Have the dreams returned?"
"What? No, no." He seems startled. I pull away, moving to face him and sitting down again, peering into his face. He shakes his head, dark reddish hair falling in front of his eyes before he lifts a hand to brush it back. "I'm fine, Tana."
I place my hand on his, stroking his fingers gently. "You are troubled."
He sighs then, running a hand over his hair once more. "I don't want to bother--" He sees the look I give him, and chuckles, placing both his hands in mine. "I know, I know. I talk too much and say too little. It's..." He shrugs, looking strangely helpless for a moment. "It's this whole Silvermoon thing. Paperwork, petty crime, death threats." He gives me a crooked grin. "You know, the usual."
I hold his hands tighter, and he squeezes back, the pressure saying more than words can. He lets out a sigh, looking toward the open door and the river running by outside. "They're talking of making my role as temporary Regulus permanent. I don't want it, Tana. The city's a mess, and the people-- it feels like I do so damn much and no one's ever satisfied. I'll be able to do even less if I'm stuck behind a desk all day." He looks to me, and I see the lines of weariness and frustration around his eyes. "But what can I...?" He trails off, simply weaving his fingers into mine, gaze lowered as his shoulders slump and he hangs his head.
I remove my hands from his, reaching to place one firmly on his shoulder, then with the other lift his chin gently to meet my gaze. I cover the dismay I feel at the return of his old pain with an encouraging smile as I speak, hoping he will listen. "You are strong, Tiradell." I strengthen my grip on his shoulder, and he looks up at me with those eyes that bear the same mark as my skin. "You know what you must do in the role you have been given." He begins to look away again, and I reach out to stroke an ear, earning a startled giggle. I smile, genuinely now. "Silly elf. You must not worry about those who would see you abandon your duties."
He looks at me, spreading his hands. "I protect the Sin'dorei, Tana. You know that. But when the Sin'dorei do not wish to be protected, what can I do?"
I pat his cheek, then drop my hand to his chest, pressing my palm against his shirt above his heart. "You already know. In here."
He shrugs, looking a bit sheepish, and brushes his hair behind an ear again.
"What you do is not for praise or reward, and you must not expect such." I meet his gaze, willing him to understand. "'Sheep fear the dogs when they forget the wolves.' Is it not as you told me?"
My elf smiles, though he still seems troubled. He reaches for his plate, and the half-finished portion of fish, filling his mouth with food in place of words and motioning for me to do the same. I pick up my own plate, eating carefully, savoring each bite. It is, as I told him, delicious. But now, with worry hanging over me, the taste is harsh and bitter.
I did not know he was so unhappy. I should have known.