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“You are quite skilled, you know. Do you mind if I join you?”
Saeri’s head snapped up from where she had been observing her tea. The Black Prince had at some point descended into the lower level of the Tavern, and had apparently decided to join her at her small corner table. She nodded, both in acknowledgment of the compliment and to his question. As he took his seat, Left and Right took up their customary places behind him. Saeri pulled her tea closer to herself and signaled to Tong for service before Wrathion could do it himself.
“You also seem almost entirely disinterested in inter-factional conflicts.”
Her eyes narrowing, she nodded again. Wrathion seemed to find her wariness amusing.
“As you must know by now, I have an… interest, in hiring those champions who are willing to set aside racial differences and fight for their world as a whole. Should you join me, you would be outfitted in the best gear and weapons available, and would never go without.”
She inhaled sharply. “Is this a job offer, sir?”
Wrathion chuckled, leaning forward with his hands folded before him on the table. “Yes.”
Tong arrived at that moment with a mug of Wrathion’s usual blend, and refilled hers at the same time. She took the opportunity to think. The offer held undeniable appeal, and not only for the promised rewards. Not having to choose sides, not having to constantly fight others simply because of what race they were born into, not having to worry about stealing or earning enough to care for herself and aid Zulk’eta as he made his way through this world… it was a heady prospect. And yet…
She looked up again, and saw Wrathion watching her patiently. She took a breath, bracing herself. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I… I feel I must decline, as of now.”
He blinked, seeming shocked. Apparently, no one had ever turned him down like this before. He settled himself quickly, however. “Might I ask why? I assure you, if you are currently entangled in any previous obligations, I can find ways around them.”
She smiled, gently. He seemed much like Zulk had as a boy, when he desperately wanted something and hoped to negotiate his way to getting it. “Nothing like that, Your Majesty. I… well. If you would permit a bit of a long story?” He nodded, an expression of curiosity spreading across his features. “I have a bad history with… factions. My people were left hanging by the Alliance, partially due to their own hubris and isolationist tendencies. I was opposed to the Alliance from the start, but that’s neither here nor there. Then came the Horde. You have likely heard how that’s turned out for my people.” Wrathion nodded slowly. “Yeah. We had a good run there for a while, though. And you may or may not know this, but I’m a member of the Sunreavers. I joined them soon after arriving in Northrend, and worked my way high enough into the hierarchy that if I wanted, I could command a decently sized company. Never have, though.” She took a sip of her tea, the sweet, fruity flavor and simple warmth soothing her nerves. She didn’t want to devolve into rambling about her past. “The Sunreavers are Horde-based, yes, but they were primarily neutral. Proudmoore’s little hissy-fit put paid to that. After the Purge…” She shook her head.
“My life’s been a sequence of hops from place to place, having my supposed allies turning on me, and the same goes for almost any Sin’dorei who ever stepped foot out of Silvermoon. Put simply, sir, at this point in time my primary objective is to help my people get back on their feet as much as I am able, and see to my friends and family. Many of my people may not want my help, may not want to acknowledge my set of skills, but they need them. We need every able body to try and put ourselves back together again.” She took a swig from her mug to shut herself up.
When she met Wrathion’s gaze again, she was surprised to see calm acceptance there. “I understand your reasoning completely, Saeri.” She leaned back, shocked both by his understanding and his use of her name. He smiled, appearing sad for a moment. “I believe there would be more than a few similarities in our stories, should we compare them.” He hmm’d and sipped his tea.
Stunned, Saeri turned to her own, now slightly cool, beverage. A black dragon - no, THE black dragon, just told me we had similar life stories. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, exactly.
They sat and drank in silence for a time, occasionally receiving refills from Tong - I guess when you sit with the Black Prince you don’t have to pay for your drinks - until the sun had nearly set. Saeri was mostly lost in thought, considering her life and the particular brand of insanity that caused an elf to turn down the best job she’d ever been offered for the sake of a people who hesitated to call her “theirs”, not noticing Wrathion watching her thoughtfully.
The peace was broken as he stood up to leave. Saeri rose as well, some long-forgotten lesson on propriety and manners when in the presence of royalty sending her into motion before her mind could counter it. He smiled up at her wryly, as he was a bit shorter than her when they were both standing. She expected him to simply leave, to go back to his important business and possibly offer the job to the next in line for it, but he surprised her - again - by reaching out and placing his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you, for being honest.” As she did her best to not gape at him, he turned and walked away.
Wrathion paused at the foot of the stairs, turning ever so slightly back towards her. “Oh, and if you should ever change your mind… the offer shall remain open.”
With that, he and his guards left and Saeri was left alone with her thoughts and her tea.
Well, that was different.