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| Details |
| Author: | OzmaAsimov |
| Summary: | After the trauma of being killed by Malygos, Gwenivene is struggling to make sense of everything. Sandy comes to visit her and shows just how thoughtful he can be. |
| Rating: | T for Teen |
The sun sets over the Crystalsong Forest, the multicolored light reflecting brilliantly off and through the faceted and shattered trees. On many evenings, Gwenivene enjoyed watching the light show from the balcony of her small apartment, high above the forest in the magical, floating city of Dalaran. Now they only remind her of the terrible history that created the crystalline landscape in the first place: the Highborne's war with the Blue Dragonflight. History has a cruel way of repeating itself. The Nexus War once again pitted mortals against the blue dragons…against the Spell-Weaver himself, Malygos.
Now Malygos is dead. Slain in the Eye of Eternity…and Gwenivene helped to bring about his end. Not, however, before the Father of Magic engulfed her in his breath, flooding her body with more raw, arcane energy than she had ever channeled before. It built up inside her, overwhelming her, until it exploded violently out of her. It was too much for her fragile body to withstand. She had gone to kill Malygos, but Malygos killed her first.
She got better. At least in the sense that the Light restored her spirit to her flesh. But she can still feel the cracks in her spirit, like a shattered vase that has been glued back together. Whole, but not undamaged.
Gwen sits before her fireplace, curled up on her loveseat, as she has every night since the healers released her. She has not bothered to make herself up, and her red hair is simply pinned back out of her face. Her simple green robe is mostly hidden under the thick blanket wrapped around her. Despite her efforts to keep warm, an empty feeling inside seems to devour all her heat, leaving her constantly cold.
Knock, knock.
Sandy waits on the other side of the door. He wishes he could just barge in and run to her, but he knows better. He knows her better. The young man needs to stay calm, to avoid communicating his nervousness to her, or else she’d begin feeling it too.
So Sandy came to her quarters just as he would have done any other day. Wearing shorts, and a simple white shirt, but no gift - he doesn’t want Gwen to associate that gift with that traumatic event. She doesn’t need to remember that momentary, but terrible death every time she looks at it.
Knock.
He hits the door a third time, just a second after the first two knocks. It can’t hurt, right? He’s just making she heard! That’s not the nerves, for certain. Sandy takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself down.
The fire has Gwen hypnotized. While the rest of the world seems gloomy and lifeless, the flames are constantly dancing, ever bright. It is the third knock that finally reaches through her trance. Someone is here. Probably someone bringing food. They can leave it outside the door.
No, the healers said they would come to check on her. If Gwen doesn't answer, they might force their way in to make sure she is safe. Her body feels heavy as she stands, like she has turned to lead. Blanket still wrapped around herself, she trudges to the door and tugs it open without looking to see who is there.
As she turns to shuffle back to her seat, she catches a glimpse of bare knees, one of them constructed of iron and clearly artificial. Her heart thuds in her bosom; she can't remember feeling it beat since the incident happened. Gwen turns again, rushing into Sandy's arms and pressing her face against his chest as her blanket falls to the floor.
Sandy’s eyes widen as Gwen appears on the other side of the door. She doesn’t look fine - he expected her not to - but not to this extent. He instinctively wraps his arms around her as she rushes towards him. Holding her silently, he gives her all the time she needs in his arms. Gently, Sandy strokes the back of her neck with one hand. Although he looks calm, the rhythm of his own heart beats rapidly inside his chest, against her head.
Gwenivene makes no motion to move on from the embrace. She had thought she wanted to be alone. Now she wants nothing other than to be in his arms. Here, she is safe. Here, she does not feel so hollow. "I don't know who I am anymore," she murmurs, muffled and barely audible against Sandy's shirt.
There’s a sense of relief in Sandy to hear her voice, but that feeling is quickly replaced by worry - a new sort of worry, different than the one he expected to feel. She really isn’t feeling well. “What do you mean? You’re Gwen! You’re my Gwen.” he asks, still holding her close to his heart. “I heard what happened….” He kisses her on the forehead, before continuing… “That… doesn’t change who you are. It’s happened to plenty of people in the Company!”
Gwen curls her fingers up tight in the fabric of his shirt. "I went there knowing…he had to die. I helped…I tried to…to kill him." Some part of her thought saying it out loud might make it easier to deal with. It did not. "What if he was right? Has magic really made the world any better in mortal hands?" She lifts her head to look up at Sandy. There are no tears, but the sorrow cracking her voice is visible in her eyes as well.
“But I was told you tried to talk to him, that’s more than most people would have!” Sandy tries to smile at her reassuringly, but his brows crease his forehead in worry. He pauses at her question about magic, having been disillusioned with his own. He searches for the right words because unlike his, her magic is beautiful. “Yes. Yes it did! Maybe not in… all hands. But yours, they’ve used the Arcane to make the world a better place every single day. Without you… maybe we’d still be stuck in Outland, but you managed to open the portals back to Azeroth and reunited people with loved ones they hadn’t seen in twenty years!” Fully convinced of his own words as he articulates them, Sandy’s smile grows more sincere. He begins stroking the side of her face gently, still holding her tight with his left arm.
"Those people never would have been trapped in Outland if not for magic. Look what it did to Medivh. A single sorcerer was able to open the door for the orcish invasion. Decades of war, all because of one man with this power." Gwen leans her face into his touch, craving that simple comfort. "What if I end up like him? You said it…I opened the path between worlds, just like Medivh did. How am I any better?"
Sandy’s smile fades at Gwen’s self-doubt. Hearing the fire crackling, he (kind of) invites himself in, with his arm around her waist, leading her towards the fireplace. “You won’t end up like him Gwen, and you’re better because… you choose to be!” Sandy looks up at the ceiling sighing. He isn’t explaining himself as well as he would like. “I was meeting with…” he pauses. “Friends. And they explained to me that the Arcane, the Fel, the Light, the Void, and all this stuff, they don’t really have a will of their own, or at least it doesn’t matter! It’s people who make them act, really. It’s not fate, or the Arcane itself that’ll choose what you do, Gwen,” he turns around, softly grabbing her chin, smiling hopefully once again. “It’s you. What’ll decide if your magic is used for good, it’s your strength. It’s your own willpower! And I know you’ve got plenty of that! You’re better because you’re putting everything you have into being better, and the tool you have in your hands isn’t going to change that!”
Gwen lifts an eyebrow at the vague reference to Sandy's friends. Even in her state, her curiosity lives on. She lets him lead her back to the fireplace, and slumps back into her place on her loveseat, leaving enough room for him beside her. "I don't think I'm all that strong. I've always let people tell me what kind of mage I have to be. Except Jo, I guess. She never did. But she's special. She's strong. She can use fire magic like…like it's nothing to her. Controlling fire like that, that's powerful." Gwen derails from talking about her own shortcomings; it's easier than facing them.
Before sitting with her, Sandy kisses her, and leaves her side jogging towards the door to close it. His prosthetic leg is very noisy, making squeaking noises as he runs. He runs back to her in just the same way, followed by the same sounds, and sits beside her. “Well, you’re Jo’s apprentice! She wouldn’t just take anyone as her apprentice, right?” Sandy takes Gwen’s hand in his. “You’re special too! Again, you figured out the secret to portals between worlds. Only you could do that!” He squeezes her hand. “But if you think you’ve always let people tell you what kind of mage you are, I’ll stay by your side until you figure it out. Always.”
Gwen's hand tightens in his, and she tugs at him drawing him closer to cuddle against him. "Thank you." Her doubts still run rampant, but at least for the moment she has solace in the arms of someone who loves her.