(2023-01-18) Surprise Caroler!

Details

Author:	Saaron
Summary:	Azizia shows up to Niris's doorstep with her Mysterious Greatfather gift! She's doing ~festively~! The Draenei gets news from Niris's family. She potentially doesn't know what little Dane's name is.
Rating:	T for Teen

Azizia comes to Niris and Elohad's home, holding a box wrapped in Winter Veil paper. She carefully places it on the floor. She's wearing a Winter Veil outfit. She knocks on the door and pulls an axe-shaped guitar (or a guitar-shaped axe?) from a sheath.
Niris glances up from her book, then sets it aside and rises from her armchair to answer the door. She blinks at the… whole phenomenon happening out there. "Oh."
"It's… Azizia, yes? Hello. Were you… looking for me?" Her expression suggests she doubts it.
"Ahem…" Azizia begins playing a few chords on her apparently-electric guitar. This is extremely bad, buuuut one could recognize it as a famous Winter Veil song. Maybe. She stops. "I am here for gift to you. I am Mysterious Greatfather Winter of yours, Mrs. Niris!"
Niris looks politely dubious. She keeps one hand on the door. "You— I see. Well, you— certainly look festive." She glances over her shoulder. "Perhaps the— I appreciate the… music? But the baby is sleeping."
"Oh, I am sorry!" She places the guitar back inside its sheath, back on her back. She picks up the gift from the floor. "I have brought this for you. Song was not gift. I have heard sometime people make music at people's doors for Winter Veil."
"I tried to respect traditions of Azeroth."
Niris nods firmly and smiles. "I appreciate that. And that's— a gift? For me? How kind. Would you, er. Like some coffee?" She steps aside and takes her hand from the door to allow Azizia to enter.
"Oh, yes, thank you!" She steps inside. "I have tried coffee with alcoholic beverage once, here in Ironforge. Do you make this?"
"I could, yes. Coffee with whiskey? Would that do?" Niris moves toward the kitchen to begin brewing coffee.
Azizia looks around Niris and Elohad's home, her box still in hands. "Yes, please, thank you." She keeps looking around, a little unconvinced. "I do not like Dwarven architecture, but human touch in decoration makes it little better."
"Thank you. You should have seen what Elohad had done with the place — or rather, not done with it — when I first moved in." Niris bustles to a nearby shelf and selects a bottle of whiskey, then returns to check on the coffee. "It does get rather
oppressive sometimes, Ironforge."
Azizia nods. "It does, yes. No windows and no light from outside must be very difficult in every day life. That is why I chose Stormwind to live! That and close to Booty Bay." She takes another look inside. "Elohad made this bad before?"
"Oh, no, he didn't make it bad. He just… didn't make it better. He's rather hopeless, you know, at that sort of thing. Decorating. He moved in and just… left everything of the previous tenant's. A moth-eaten boar's head, that sort of thing." She
turns to emerge from behind the counter carrying a coffee cup in each hand. "Do sit."
Azizia winces at the mention of the head. "Eww. That is very bad decoration, yes." She goes to sit down, looking around for other things the previous owners could have left. She places the gift on her lap.
There is no sign of the previous residents' furnishings any longer; the house is cozy and bright, the walls cleanly whitewashed, colorful braided rag rugs on the floor and blankets draped on the overstuffed armchairs. There are also several framed
theater posters on the wall, featuring a dashing young blond leading man.
Niris goes to Azizia's chair and offers her a coffee cup.
Azizia notices the posters and blinks. "Is… is this Elohad?" she asks, pointing her finger at the posters, as she takes the cup.
Niris smiles slyly. "Yes, it is." She settles in the other chair with her own cup.
Azizia squints. "This must have been very long time ag— ah, no! Humans grow old very fast, so only a few years." She turns away from the posters, back to Niris. "Thank you for coffee!" she takes a sip. "Would you like to open gift now?"
"Oh, certainly, thank you. That's very kind." Niris sets her cup aside on the end table. She looks… politely expectant, let us say, rather than 'wary.'
Azizia takes another sip from her coffee before placing the cup on the same table. She grabs the gift and hands it towars Niris. "This is for you! Happy Winter Veil festival!" The wrapping paper is red, with golden, intricate details. It's rather light.
Niris turns the box gently in her hands, admiring the paper. "Bless, this is lovely." She hesitates and then carefully slips her thumb into the wrapping's seam and slides the paper open: Niris Ference does not tear at presents.
Under the paper is a simple, but soft to touch box which contains a white and red off-the-shoulder dress.
"Oh. Ohhh!" Niris lifts the dress out carefully and gazes at it with genuine delight. "Oh, Azizia, this is lovely!"
Azizia beams. "THank you! I had to guess size based on few times I saw you, but if it does not fit we can make better! This is Draenei couture!"
"Oh, it's beautiful, honestly." Niris sets the box aside to drape the dress over herself and smooth it, admiring the fabric and the fall of the skirt.
"I asked people to know what you would like, and they told me you wear very deep neck dress, so I thought 'No, no, no I cannot buy one more for you, or maybe you will already have it. So, I thought maybe you would like Draenei fashion."
Azizia smiles and takes a sip of her coffee, clearly enjoying its taste.
"Oh, I do, how thoughtful! I haven't any Draenei-style gowns. It's marvelous, really."
"I am very glad you like it!" Azizia's smiles stays on her face, this is rare to see her smile for this long! "Now you just need to find right accessories and you have perfect outfit for Draenei event! Or to go see Naaru in Exodar…"
"Although with baby maybe you don't have time. How is baby?"
Niris smiles back. "He's very well, thank you. Teething now, which has him rather cross and up at all hours of the night, but he's growing at a tremendous rate and healthy as can be."
Azizia nods. "That is good to hear. I do not know how you do without hours of sleep like this. Or how Elo do." She pauses. " How is he?"
Niris's smile fades slightly. "He is… doing well, I think. As well as can be. He's… coming to terms with some things." She picks up her coffee again and arches a brow at Azizia. "And how are you?"
Azizia looks straight into her Dwarvish Coffee. "Yes, I believe I did not help come to terms. But I am fine, now."
"I'm glad to hear it," Niris says mildly, and sips her own coffee again.
Azizia takes a sip as well. "I… I do not know how to say this in not rude way, but I hope you get sleep even more. That you do not have to take care of… two crying for nights."
"Especially night of rituals. I hope you did not lose sleep because of it! It is no time for things like this for you…"
Niris narrows her eyes very slightly, reproachfully: her expression otherwise remains mild. "We're quite well, thank you," she says smoothly.
"I see, that is good." She drinks some more coffee. This isn't just a sip, but three awkward sips in a row. "Anyway, let me know if dress does not fit well, I can go with you to tailor for more measures!"
Niris smiles again. "Indeed. Thank you, Azizia, it's very thoughtful of you."
"Well, I should probably go," she finishes her coffee. "I suppose we will see each other next for good occasion too, since it seems Company is going to have some calm times!"
Azizia gets up from her chair.
"Yes, indeed. We can hope." Niris rises as well, politely, and lays the dress carefully over the back of her chair.
"See you soon, Ms. Niris! Thank you for coffee and for inviting me inside." She bows politely. "And sorry for music, with baby."
"Not to worry, he seems to have slept right through it. For a change." Niris smiles wryly. "Thank you for coming by. So… festively."
Azizia chuckles. "I have heard much of Winter Veil since last year, I wanted to honor it well this time!" She walks towards the door. "I will see you soon! Archenon poros!" she says, as she steps out the door.
"Light bless."
Niris makes a grave little curtsey.