(2023-09-27) Let It At Least Be Protecting Someone

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Author:	Vond
Summary:	After the Battle at Voldrune, Vond heads to check on Briellen and express being troubled by her decisions. They seem to come to an understanding of some kind.
Rating:	T for Teen

After a messy but successful battle (9-06, Voldrune):

Etone had insisted on a brief check of Briellen's coordination and consciousness level immediately after the Argents had safely arrived in Dalaran. The priest's usual annoyed-looking lack of any bedside manner in particular was especially stormy, but Vond had looked to be actively distracting him from interrogating her post resurrection. As well, he appeared generally somewhat rattled and reluctant to leave her alone. However, once the men had been thoroughly assured of her having enough of her senses about her to monitor her own condition, and that she would be alright alone with her thoughts, they had left her to them, to tend to their own rest and recuperation.

The following day, Vond is knocking on the door of her inn room, possibly to continue being a busybody about her health.

Briellen's voice calls, "Edwin? Is that you?"

"'S just me, ma'am. Satterly." The muffled voice clears its throat a few times from the other side, still a bit hoarser than its baseline. "Was hoping to get a word before the Confessor had to be off."

The lock clicks, and Briellen, dressed in her underarmor from yesterday, opens the door. "Brother Vond. Of course. Come in, if you'd like?"

The room is nice, because it's Dalaran and all the rooms are nice, but this is definitely among the lowest-priced of the rooms available. There is a small table with a chair, and there is also a desk with a chair, and Briellen looks between the options as if unsure which to offer.

(The chairs themselves are identical. It should not be a difficult decision.)

Vond looks in much better shape by now, washed and combed if not much beyond that, and similarly in a simple gambeson and chausses. The persistent shivering has gone.

He looks between the chairs briefly and back to the indecisive Briellen, tilting his head slightly, but then slips in and settles at the table without much fuss about it. He clasps his hands against the surface and does his best impression of someone who knows how to relax.

"Everything still steady? No trouble you've noticed?" His look has a wary curiosity to it. She had just died, after all.

Briellen takes the desk chair, turning it around with the back of the chair to the desk so that she can sit facing Vond. "I thought it would be difficult to sleep, and then I laid down and suddenly it was morning." The corner of her mouth twitches. "Fatigue. Loss of appetite, although I expect that'll return later today. That's all I've noticed."

Vond seems to find Bree's idea an improvement on the arrangement, and mirrors her by standing, smoothly ferrying the chair to the opposite side of the table, and sitting again facing outward into the open space between them.

He leans forward and reclasps his hands, his wide eyes never having left her, and reiterates the question he had first posited to her insensate corpse: "What were you thinking?"

"I was headed for Brendol when Kaela Mondragon pulled me over. Right off my horse. A full thirty yards away, I believe. I had no intention of engaging her in combat, but I didn't quite dare to turn my back on her." Briellen sighs. "I had to call my divine shield quite early. Sir Atley and the Vindicator were just out of range, and quite occupied besides. You and the Confessor were far out of range, as was the other death knight - Roper." Briellen's hands move in the air as if marking out locations and distances on an invisible map. "Syarra was defending me, and Kaela Mondragon injured her. Critically. She dropped her sword - her runeblade. I had mere seconds left on my divine shield, and then I would have been next. I was under no illusion that I would have been able to fend her off for long."

Vond lowers his eyes, scanning the floor back and forth as if her accounting of all the particulars were falling across it in unseen script. A frustrated furrow forms above his brow as he rolls fingertips against his temple, considering but clearly not prepared to accept a total lack of an alternative.

"There might have been… There had to have been time. What if we hadn't been able to retrieve you? Definitely having to attempt a resurrection is hardly an acceptable risk compared to possibly being able to treat you in a poor but alive state." His palms open toward her with an air of pleading.

Briellen looks away. "Ed's going to be furious with me," she says quietly. The sense of guilt about her is more obvious now.

Vond definitely seems to pick up on the more overt possible self-blame, and hastily lifts his hands in a mild staying gesture as he shifts off the vaguely agitated, examining approach. "Look, I don't - I am not here to try to level some peroratin' over a misstep, sister, I just…

"That is what this was, right? And possibly a misstep on our end, too, bein' caught off guard by Westwind laid out in the open like that. Not sending in another Light's-called close enough at heel. Shit happens, Light do I know."

"We should have brought more with us," Briellen says. "I thought… if I was going to lose no matter what I did, let it at least be protecting someone, this time."

Vond's hedging open look flickers with something like dismay before he tamps it down and his expression grows grave. "You're right. We needed more. I did not like the odds nor how dire pressed we were to weight them. I have learned a thing or two about Sir Dane Atley in this I imagine.

"But we have Westwind and yourself and we have done it. So there is just one thing I would ask. I beg of you to think of our people, our brothers and sisters, in dire need of a gifted healer such as yourself, should they find that she has gone and all there is to show for it is a dead thing that would thrive on their suffering.

"If ever again losing comes down to a choice between sure death or nearly-sure death for yourself, I beg of you to keep them in the balance of lives you consider when taking such a tally."

Briellen reaches up to her face to rub at the end of the scar that touches the corner of her mouth. "I understand. Thank you, Vond. I heard you, I think, along with the Confessor's song."

Vond is given pause for a moment, studying Bree with a concern above his normal countenance of free-floating worry, then slowly nods. "Don't know if it were more than a hope, but for sure I did not want to lose you. Well. I've said my piece and I thank you for bearing it. It is the rough go in Zul'drak givin' me to being so forward, honest ma'am."

He stands and rests his hand to heart briefly in respect as if preparing to make his farewell, then seems to have another thought occur and adds, "I'm going to try to talk with 'em, after the Confessor's next trip. The Ebon Blades."

Briellen stands when Vond does. "I did say you could call me Bree, although that was quite some time ago," she reminds him with a faint twitch to her mouth that might be a smile. "I'll try and take better care. Give the Confessor my thanks when you see him." She pauses. "Syarra's the one who will give you straight answers. I'm not quite sure what to make of Roper."

Vond gives a nod with a look that is in some form of wordless agreement, perhaps on several counts. He does narrow his eyes slightly, because honestly that Roper guy. Definitely weird, on top of being dead and… something else about him.

"I'm of a mind to find out if any of 'em seem safe enough for some kinda joint exercises. We already got the intelligence sharing and parallel operations squared through Brother Darion's graces," he styles the Ebon Highlord a touch ruefully, "but I'm surprised I got through that mess without losing it entire."

His expression falters toward his own hint of shame. "They still turn my nerves, Bree," he effectively minimizes, "no matter how I will it. I can't be the only one. We may need more contact, just to practice out the dithers, then to get a handle on their techniques. If I can get the Blades to see how that'd get us sharper against the Scourge kind, well. Any you know of in the same state as I am, send 'em my way."

Briellen nods. "I understand. It's a good idea. I don't think you'll have a hard time selling those two on it."

Vond settles slightly at her apparent approval, and repeats his parting gesture. "Then I am heartened on it. I'll let you to your peace'n quiet then. Light keep you, sister. Surely you're blessed to have been returned." Surely. We are all having a wonderful time here. Vond sets to exit with a slightly apologetic glance.

Briellen manages another twitch of a smile. "Wisdom on your path," she says, a parting blessing before the door shuts.