Work Text:
Maiev picked away at the runeberries in her bowl as she stared out at the first light of morning, crowning beyond the horizon, back lighting the shore beautifully, casting a darkness, a blackness that obscured their foe. She’d grown to like the berries. She supposed she should thank Kor’vas at some point. They’d gone from noises of disregard; to talking; to thank yous.
Growth. That’s what it was called, right?
Illidan sat at her side, scratching at a parchment with enchanted quill, the fel energy etching the words for him to see.
She’d woken up hours before dawn, unable to sleep. So she’d come to sit here, alone, with nothing but her thoughts and a week’s supply of berries. But she hadn’t been alone for long. Illidan had soon arrived and sat by her side, silent, draping her cloak around her shoulders, before he started to write.
She hadn’t said thank you. She hadn’t even talked, nor given him a noise of disregard.
Because if she spoke, it was real.
They, were real.
A small screech brought Maiev from her reverie, and she turned to Illidan, her mouth opened, berry poised before her lips.
“What - what is that on your horns?” she asked, setting down the berry in the bowl as she peered at not one, but three small creatures curled on top of Illidan’s horns, their tiny wings, flaring as they shuffled together.
“Felbat pups,” said Illidan, not looking up, nor pausing his writing.
“I can see that,” she said, peering at him from his blase reply. “But why - are they...sitting on you? Don’t they have a mother?”
“Dead,” he said, chewing the end of his quill, the coiling energy of fel twisting through the feather, basking his face in a dim, green glow. “Guess I’m their mother now,” he said with a smirk.
Maiev grunted, looking up, down, and back up again, watching the click, click of their tiny claws scratch against his rough horns. One of them spread it’s wings suddenly, knocking the other off, and it fell with a squeak, startled.
But Illidan just held out a hand and caught it, gently, barely taking his eyes away from his parchment and sat it back onto his horns, making sure it was stable before lifting his hand away.
“Enjoying the show?” said Illidan, flicking his gaze to Maiev as she stared, her brows knitted, her mouth moving wordlessly, small indignant noises falling past her lips.
“You are insufferable,” she said, throwing a handful of berries into her mouth.
Illidan laughed and set down his quill, the fel tinged letters glowing beneath his touch. “Tell that to the pups,” he said, reaching out to take a berry, fingers lightly brushing against hers. “Tell that to the last two hours at my side.” He leaned closer, trailing his fingers along her arm. “Tell that to yourself, because I don’t think you believe.”
He picked up the berry, leaned back, and ate, turning back to his parchment, quill in hand.
Maiev kicked his knee.
Illidan laughed.