Chapter Text
Another night in the Filthy Animal. Umbiwa was dancing to some tauren's flute. A slow night, not even a patron to flirt with.
A troll rolled in. Hair like fire ember, pale green skin, barely-there leather armour more appropriate as small clothes left not much imagination. And something with swirling energy around her knuckles.
The flute stopped. The tauren rise to her full height, warm brown eyes smiling.
"Cleo! I thought you got a room in Legerdemain." She eyed the shiny thing. "Is that your new weapon? Are you abandoning the art of healing?" She feigned a gape, one big hand covering her heart, and then grinned. "And what is this thing you're wearing?"
The troll blushed. She took off the fist weapons with a sigh, carefully put them down on an empty table, then tossed down the drink Umbiwa just thrust to her hands, flashing the barmaid a grateful smile.
"Through and through Ban-lu's fault, that's all ya need to know."
"Your talkative tiger?" The tauren snorted.
"One and only. Talks as much as a goblin trying to sell you suspicious inventions. I'm contemplating sending him to face the legion as the spearhead, maybe they'll try to kill themselves somehow to avoid the ultimate boredom."
The tauren was trying so hard to not laugh outrightly that some of her mead spilled. "Apparently I wronged Thisalee. I'll have to apologise to her."
"Your druid buddy does small talks. What Ban-lu does is gigantic speeches."
"Ban-lu? Xena, is your friend here the new grandmaster I heard about?" came Nomi's exciting voice from the kitchen.
"No!" "Yes!"
The table vibrated as Xena snickered.
"If only I didn't try to impress that bloody elf with my fist weapons," Cleo muttered, "but how could I know he's married?"
Even Uda the Beast barely stifled a laugh this time.
They finally settled down, both lying comfortably on the fur, faces lit by the crackling flames. Spices burning in the hearth, a warm fuzzy laziness bathed everyone in the inn, blocking the ever-present dreadfulness in the air these days. The tauren was humming a theme the Suramar harpers sometimes play, an ancient elven lament, alto eventually fading into a soundless prayer.
"I thought ya'd be back to the 'grove after the last battle. Such nice sleeping alcoves there. Didn't all ya druids like sleeping?"
Xena turned, half of her face hidden in the shadow. "I decided to stay as much as close to the front line. But Khadgar insisted upon teleporting us back to rest properly. He said we would be summoned if anything happened. Can't argue with him now he's back to the city himself. And the Netherlord personally promised me he would see to it." Her voice wavered. "But I sent all my druids back. They're exhausted after keeping vigil over the front gate of the tomb for several days straight. So many are injured. So much sorrow. In the grove they will find some much need peace. They're not adventurers like me and you." She fell silent for a while, turned again. "By the ancestors but your new weapon looks magnificent."
Cleo's face visibly brightened. And then as if remembered something, she sighed dramatically.
"Ya don't know the half of it. Ban-lu said as a grandmaster I'm expected to blend all the main expertises and create my own fighting style. I dunno anything other than kicking, so he suggested an artifact forged by the wind lord might help. But I still can't do much. Every time I tried the spirits splitting, I felt disoriented afterwards. Maybe I'll go down on the history as the grandmaster who doesn't understand anything other than healing."
The tauren chuckled.
"No need to beat yourself up. You're doing fine, really. An order leader is the one bringing the most hope even to this doomed shore, not the one with the best techniques. Do you think I'm more powerful than those who have been connecting to the dream for thousands years? " She sat up. "Until we're finished with the legion, nothing else matters. Right now at this moment, I guard the mother tree, and you heal the injured with mist; that's what we do. We must stay strong, my friend, body and soul."
They stared at the flickering flame, the tauren's eyes soft, the troll's lost in thoughts.
Xena broke the silence. "So what's the deal of your new armour style? Don't tell me Ban-lu talked you into this. You're lucky you're still of one piece now."
"Actually it's his daughter's idea. She said less clothing helps with the disorientation, a trick monks know for millenniums. It worked, to some degree. But I think going to the shores like this is too much risk. I've been running errands these days, to have a bit time to adjust." She cleared her throat. "And Kalec teased me, saying my namesake is a beauty of legend, and I'm being generous with said trait."
Xena covered her mouth, yet a rather indecent noise escaped. "That cheeky dragon. When will he understand how to flirt with young girls?"
"He's the most sane blue dragon I've ever met. But still a blue dragon." The two friends giggled. "I prefer the elven prince any day, if I have to choose."
The tauren shot her an amused look. "So undead over blue dragon. I'll try to remember."
Cleo kicked her. Xena howled with laughter.
"Ban-lu's daughter, is she the cute cub sometimes come to find you and play?"
"Yep. Although I'm pretty sure she comes to have some adventures with her father and uncle. When it is safe anyway."
Xena gushed, exaggeratedly. "Awwww. Earth mother I'm so jealous."
That got her rolling eyes. "It's not like critters not always follow ya in the forests. I swear I caught you pet them once or twice when you thought no one was looking. Behold, the mighty Archdruid of the Dreamgrove, tree-hugger and critter-molester."
Xena transformed to a bear and pounced immediately, yet failed to tackle the troll, for she rolled to the corner in a blink. They played the roll-and-chase in the spacious hall, with Rhukah watching them longingly.
The pair were both out of breath when suddenly a voice boomed. "Xena, you're being summoned." The druid transformed back instantly, checked her armour, staff, and bag, nodded to the troll, and then disappeared before even finished a farewell.
Cleo rolled back to the fur and lay down without a word. A moment later, Uda, her wolves in tow, came to sit down beside the fire as well. She handed a beer to the now too silent monk who was poking the logs with a stick. "Don't worry. She's like a wild wolf. She'll come back." The troll sighed.