Chapter Text
By the fifth day in Suramar, Lor’themar had seen plenty of the city to know how the arcane had flourished since the Nightborne had freed themselves from Elisande’s reign. The people were no longer withered and every person he met, though he could not see them, had a vibrant purple glow about them. On Thalyssra’s arm, he had relished in the small pleasantries that life had to offer - simple things that he usually was unable to indulge in. He took walks through the Gardens, enjoying the sweet scent of the flowers around him, and for the first time in a long time, was not interrupted by someone demanding his presence at yet another meeting. He had met with countless poets whose words made him feel so deeply he weeped, and he had met with magicians who, though he could not see their displays, still managed to dazzle him with the beauty of the arcane. He had also taken the time to enjoy the fine delicacies that Suramar had to offer under a moonlit sky with Thalyssra by his side. An uninterrupted meal had become so rare that when the two of them left to visit the Menagerie, he found it difficult to believe that he had been able to merely sit and talk for hours.
At this point, the amount of free time he had was astounding and he longed to get back to work but more importantly to him at this particular time, he wanted to express his gratitude to Thalyssra, for every moment she had spent by his side. She had cared for him and made him feel more welcome in Suramar than he did in his own city. And when parts of him worried about the ongoing conflict, she comforted him and reminded him that he could trust in his advisors. Now, he was wandering alone in the Gardens once more. She had left to attend to important business with the promise that she would be back in a matter of hours so he chose now to find a way to express his gratitude in the one way he knew she would appreciate. A poem he had yet to name but despite the lack of a title, it was one that he had spent an absurd amount of time writing and rewriting in an attempt to perfect it, and now, it was… still not perfect.
“The lilac hue in the dark of the night,
The gentle moves and the quiet whispers,
A new perspective though I don’t have sight,
Many thanks to she who glows and shimmers
The Lily blossoms and shows me her heart,
Full of great kindness, with a soul to suit,
Ev’ry part of her is a work of art,
Any thanks I give would be destitute.”
He sighed and closed his book with one hand. He reached down to touch the delicate petal of a dusk lily.
“The longer I write, the more my heart aches,
She is beauty and grace, a flawless face,
She speaks, blessing my ear when I awake,
With a melodic tune, a warm embrace.
But the Dusk Lily is not mine to take,
So long as my burnt wings- she does not break.”
He leaned in to smell the flower with a gentle exhale. “I’ll figure out the final stanzas before the week is up.”
“I think the final stanzas were beautiful.” Thalyssra stepped forward.
Lor’themar froze. After a moment, he stood and turned to her, offering a welcoming smile. “Thalyssra, I did not expect you to be back so soon,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice betraying the unfazed facade he tried to portray.
She continued to take slow steps towards him. “It seemed Valtrois had everything under control, and I hated the idea of leaving you alone when you still have not regained your sight. Besides, I did say I would be your eyes for the week… That I would never leave your side.”
“Are y-”
“Yes, I am very much sure that Valtrois has it under control.” She laughed when Lor’themar gave her a questioning look. “You are very predictable sometimes. Now, would you care to share more of your poetry with me? I would be more than happy to show you some of mine in return.”
“Ah, perhaps another time when I have had some time to vet them. I would only want to share the best with you and that was… far from it.”
“Disappointing but… Not surprising.” She sighed as she draped her arm around his shoulder. With her other hand resting on his arm, she guided him through the Gardens. “Until then, come, you must be tired.”
“It has barely been an hour since you left.”
“And you wasted all your energy pacing the Gardens despite your lack of vision. A true tragedy. More so than you not having any other poems to share with me. We can relax at my estate.”
Lor’themar looked up briefly, suddenly dazzled by the soft arcane shimmer that surrounded her now that she was closer. It was a clear but insignificant sign that she had recently teleported yet somehow it enhanced her beauty. He found there was something so implausibly alluring in her power and confidence. After only a moment of hesitation, he nodded. “Well, if you insist. I suppose I am… a little tired.” He faked a yawn, causing Thalyssra to give a delighted laugh before she led back to her own estate.