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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | Sil comes to Westfall to see Rozalin, and she confides her latest news. They think through the future implications together, which is not as comforting as it could be. ~3800 words. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
Yellowed grass waves gently beneath the autumn afternoon sunlight as Sil rides Speedygos along a path in Westfall toward the Graufowl farmstead, on his way to visit Rozalin. He might look a little paler than he did the last time she's seen him, and he shades his eyes with one hand - just small changes from spending the past month or so under the stone ceiling of Deepholm. Still, now he's on a few days leave, and word is that her trial situation is resolved. It is clearly time for a friend to stop by and check in.
He rides up to the farmhouse and dismounts, tying Speedygos carefully to a post before he walks over and knocks on the front door.
“Coming!” A voice calls out from inside the house. A few moments later Rozalin opens the door. She’s wearing a tank top and overalls with an apron overtop it all, “Oh hey! How’s it goin, Sil?” She smiles brightly.
Sil's answering smile is relieved. "Doin' alright. Looks like you're settling in okay? I thought I'd come see how you're doing, you know, after… all that mess."
“Ha! You can say that again.” Roz takes a step back and gestures inside, “Why don’t you come inside. I got some dinner cookin up if you’re hungry.”
"Sure, thanks," Sil says, stepping in after her. "I've heard you're a great cook. But on traditional Westfall food, I'm uh… not partial to murloc eyes, just to say. Not that I wouldn't be willing to try."
“Best there is!” Rozalin grins and puffs her chest, “And meat’s a bit rich for my budget right bout now so you ain’t gotta worry.” She makes her way back into the kitchen and stirs a big pot. It smells amazing.
Sil trails along behind her. "Anything I can do to help? Set the table? Wash dishes?"
"Don't you worry bout a thing. You're my guest now, ya hear." Rozalin tastes a little spoonful of her stew and puts in a little splash of vinegar and a sprinkle of salt before turning off the stove, "Besides, I got Jenzelle stayin here now too. You just missed her. She went out to work at the soup kitchen. I'm plannin on bringing my leftovers there too once I'm done. Don't let that make you shy, though. I can always make more."
"Jenzelle is?" Sil asks in surprise. "Is she helping out with the farm or… or it's a place to stay while she does more humanitarian work for the locals?"
"Bit of both. She's been a real lifesaver, I'll tell you what." Roz ladles a big bowl of stew for herself and another for Sil. She takes them plus a big jar of pickles and makes for the dining room, "C'mon in. Sorry the table's a bit small. Found it on sale in a second hand shop in the city. All I could afford for now." The whole house feels a bit bare bones at the moment. There's not a lot in the way of decoration and even many of the utensils are a bit sparse.
Sil follows and settles into a seat at the small table, inhaling the scent of warm stew. He rests one hand on the table, and says, "For now. I guess it takes a while to get a farm up and running again, after a bit of a break, yeah? And us right at the end of fall when you got started."
"Yeah." Roz breathily, "Been bustin my tail to get ready for winter. Lost a lot of time with the trial and all." She finishes setting the table with some simple wooden spoons and cheap clay cups, "Water ok? I ran outta apple juice."
"Water's fine, yeah," Sil says, watching Roz bustling around. "You got the harvest in alright? I mean, if not, I could probably do something to help out to see you through the winter, till you can plant again in spring."
Rozalin finally takes a seat, sighing as she relaxes into the chair, "Yeah. Harvest is taken care of, just got to make sure everything gets stored properly before winter." She takes a big pickle out of the jar and crunches down on it, "With Jenzelle to help I should be ok. Appreciate it though."
"Good, that's good," Sil says. He takes a spoonful of stew and makes an appreciative sound. "You thought more about what you're going to do from here on out? Stick with the farm, or…?"
"I'm thinkin of stickin here with the farm which, uh, sort of gets at the next thing I was gonna say." Rozalin clears her throat, "I was actually plannin on findin ya soon to tell ya, so thanks for savin me the trouble."
Sil looks up at her, puzzled. "What is it? Something happened?"
"Well… kinda. I-it's nothing bad, don't worry, just ummm." Rozalin purses her lips, "Promise you won't freak out? And this is a secret ok? I'm tellin you cause I trust ya."
"I don't know what it is, so I'm not sure I can really make a promise," Sil says, looking at her a little warily. "But it's nothing bad? I can keep a secret, long's it's nothing illegal."
"No, it's not illegal, just uh…" Rozalin takes a deep breath to steady herself, "I'm pregnant."
Sil stares at her for a long moment, but he doesn't freak out. There's that much. Then he says, "I didn't even know you were seein' anybody. Is there… is he in the picture or…?" Sil's eyes widen. "It wasn't anybody at the Vineyard, was it?"
"Oh naw. None of them. It's uhhh… So you remember that guy who rescued me in Stranglethorn?" Rozalin winces a little as she says it like she's afraid of how Sil is going to react.
Sil pales. "Oh no, don't tell me it was those mercenaries that kidnapped you."
"No! None of them put their hands on me. I was a little scared that's what was gonna happen for a bit, but that ain't the Seahawk's style." Rozalin explains, "And I said the guy who rescued me. You need to get yer ears checked?"
"Well, yeah, but he was an orc soldier," Sil says. "I thought maybe you were working your way back to it, which… sorry, sorry, that was a horrible way to ask, I was just startled is all."
Rozalin huffs, "Well I'm glad we got that cleared up. But no it's him. He's um… the father…" She watches Sil a bit uncertainly.
Sil watches her a bit uncertainly, so it goes both ways. "Back in the jungle? Did he… oh, Light, I'm sorry Roz."
"Fucking Light above why do you keep going straight to that!" Rozalin says exasperated, "This was only a bit over a month ago when we met up again. He didn't force me to do nothin."
Sil is now utterly confused. He looks at Roz. "You met up again? And… wait… hold on… you're saying he's your… lover?"
"Y-yeah." Rozalin blushes and looks to the side bashfully.
"And you… you're having a kid," Sil says, like he's trying to get things straight. "Intentionally, yeah? Light, this is a tangle."
"I know, that's why I'm telling you. I wanna make sure I got folk in my corner if someone decides they don't much care for all this." Rozalin's hazel eyes are big and pleading, "I might need your help later down the line."
"Yeah," Sil says distractedly, his gaze a little distant. "That means… you said this is a secret, but it's not the sort of thing that can stay that way. Babies get born. And a half-orc baby… only one of those I ever saw was the one that assassinated King Llane. Which, it was a vision in Ulduar when I was in the mind of an Old… you know what, that's not important. And I'm not saying your kid's gonna assassinate anyone, obviously."
"I'm afraid killing the king is a little beyond me." Rozalin jokes, "But it's not like I've done anything wrong. As long as I got friends to back me up I figure I'll be able to get by ok."
Sil chuckles weakly and then meets her gaze. "I don't guess there's a law against feeling a certain way about a person. But what you do with it… you've got to be careful and responsible, yeah? I mean, there's questions of security. National security, that is."
"It's not like I know anything that would do him any good anyhow." Rozalin shrugs, "Besides, he's been stickin in Kalimdor fighting the Alliance forces that are attacking them at home anyway."
Sil blinks. "So he's active military. Fighting against the Alliance. And you don't see how…" he looks at her with sympathy. "You know Cobalt's active in Kalimdor, as well as here. Some of our elves are fighting the orcs that are attacking them at their homes. And we do a lot of stuff together with the Alliance military. If you keep in contact with him, maybe you just say something about a job you're doing for Cobalt… and he tells his folk… and then it turns out it did matter, and our people are dead."
"It's not like I'm gonna be out fighting with a baby on the way!" Rozalin protests, "And we ain't gonna be at war forever right? Crim and I are sick of all this crap. I thought you were too."
"I sure hope not," Sil says with a sigh. "That we won't be at war forever, that is, and that you don't go fighting when you're pregnant. But we've got to deal with the world as it is now, not how we'd wish it could be. You've picked a real tricky path to walk, and I'm just trying to help figure out how not to get tripped up, you know? And you do not want to get marked down as a Horde spy." He hesitates, and then looks down at his stew and adds quietly, "Here, you've told me a secret, so I'll tell you one. My sister is a Horde spy, if she's still alive. It's not a secret from SI:7, but it's not a thing I go around telling folk."
“So you get it then, don’t you?” Rozalin places her hands on the table and leans forward, “We both got people we care about on the other side. You ain’t lettin that stop you from livin like anyone else. Fel, you’re a bigshot in Cobalt.”
"Roz…" Sil looks at her with a flicker of pain in his eyes. "My sister is not a very good person. We're not in touch. I reported her to SI:7 when I figured out what she was up to. My point is, that is not the situation you want to be in. And I don't think it's the sort of position you want to put your friends in, either, 'cause you are a good person."
“Well what are you saying? If Atley finds out and comes knocking you’re just gonna fucking sit there and watch!?!” Rozalin raises her voice, “I know this is a tricky situation. That’s why I need help!”
Sil raises one hand. "Okay, for one thing, I'm pretty damn sure Sir Atley would not attack a pregnant woman, no matter what the circumstances. And no, what I'm saying is I don't think you want to be a spy, I think you just want to live your life. So I think you've got to be proactive to be as far from a spy as you can be, to protect yourself and your kid. Which means you don't want to be involved with the military, or with any organizations that might get privileged information. Like Cobalt."
“Well he made his feelings on me having an orc as a friend crystal clear and quite frankly he scares the shit out of me right now.” Rozalin growls, “And what are you tryna say?”
"I don't doubt it - he was involved in all the wars pretty much, Sir Atley," Sil says. Yes, that's right, all of them. "And the others in Cobalt…" Sil winces. "I think sometimes people make decisions, and they've got to accept that choosing one path closes another one."
Rozalin stares at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. She seems to be at a loss for words.
"Did you… did you not think it through that far yet?" Sil asks, looking at her in worry. "You know I think orcs are people same as us, and that I wish we weren't all at war. But we are, and… well…"
“He… he’s my closest friend. And after he said all those things… About how he felt about me…” Rozalin puts her head in her hands.
Sil reaches over to put a hand near her in comfort, not reaching out to actually touch her without invitation. "For a civilian woman on a farmstead, who's not got any connection to the Alliance military or mercenary groups with strong political ties, that's probably all that needs to matter, yeah?"
“What are you saying?” Rozalin is fighting back tears now and not very successfully, “You’re my friends. You saved my life, gave me a place to be when I didn’t have anywhere or anyone else.” She sniffles and takes in a big, shaky breath, “You gave me a chance when I damn sure didn’t deserve it… Are you telling me I’m supposed to just throw that all away?!”
"Not throw away," Sil says, and then sighs. "But maybe walk away, in a way that doesn't hurt Cobalt or you. Because this isn't a secret you can keep forever, and I'm afraid it's gonna blow up on you. I don't want that to happen."
Rozalin flops backward in her chair. The back rest of the cheap piece of furniture creaks uneasily under her weight. She shakes her head, “I ain’t losin more now. I already lost too much…”
"If only the world worked that way," Sil says, not unkindly. "I don't see as you have a choice, though, except the one you already made."
“So that’s it? I just say goodbye to everyone. Stay out here on my own with my only friend being an orc living on the other side of the world?” A few tears finally make their way down Rozalin’s cheeks, “Fuck you, Sil.” Rozalin says with an uncharacteristic cool.
"Whoa, there, I never said don't have any friends," Sil says, holding up his hands. "I was talking about, like, professional ties."
Rozalin flares her nostrils and glares at him as she waits for an explanation.
"I just don't see how you can possibly stay in Cobalt Company while you're building a family with Crim, even if you stay here in Westfall," Sil says, calmly and without any malice. "That's what I was sayin'. For your good, cause it'd look like you were compromised. For Cobalt's good, since they work close with the military. And for all around good, 'cause Sir Atley is far from the only person who's gonna react on it."
“Is that supposed to be comforting?” Rozalin asks sarcastically.
"Only if you find truth comforting, I guess," Sil says. "Let's look at this another way. What do you want your life to look like going forward?"
Rozalin sniffles again and wipes her face, “I want to be able to see Crim and my friends. And I want to give this baby a happy life.”
"That's all reasonable stuff to want," Sil says, and hesitates. "Do you want to stay here and work on the farm?"
Rozalin nods, “This is all I got left of my folks… I can’t just leave now.”
Sil nods. "So this is me, tryin' to be a good friend. Tryin' to figure out how you can get at least most of what you want."
“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I asked you for help.” Rozalin crosses her arms and mutters.
"What did you have in mind?" Sil asks, sitting back in his own chair with a little creak.
“I thought you’d have my back through all of this. I ain’t a fan of the Alliance but you know I’m no damn spy. I thought maybe you of all people could talk some sense into everyone when word finally gets out.” Rozalin says.
"I do have your back, and I know you're not a spy. That's why I'm bein' so honest," Sil says looking at her with a wounded expression. "Look, you have the right to make whatever decisions you want about your personal life, yeah. And everybody else has a right to make whatever decisions they want. You chose to do something that most people in the Alliance are not gonna like, and for a lot of valid, personal reasons. And it's also something that opens up you - and Cobalt, if you try to stay in it - to accusations of espionage and treason. You can still do this, Roz, you can still get most of what you want, but you got to realize there are consequences you've got to deal with, too. And no amount of smooth-talking on my part will make like three decades of bad history and a bad present disappear."
Rozalin furrows her brow and pouts.
Sil waits patiently, giving Rozalin time to think that through.
“So that’s all you got to say? Just gonna tell me I should leave for my own good and deal with it?” Rozalin grumbles.
Sil sighs, as Roz seems to have not really listened to a word he said this whole time. "That is not really what I said, no. This future you dream of, are you willing to do what it takes, to sacrifice, to make it happen? Or do you want to just do whatever you want with no regard to anyone else, and then watch it burn up in flames? I guess that's the difference between being a child and being an adult."
Rozalin clenches her jaw, “I didn’t get a lot of time in my life to be a child. Too busy makin sure I keep myself safe. I ain’t had a normal day in my life since I was ten years old, so sorry if you caught me a little on edge right now when you’re sayin that everyone who’s gonna have hell to pay for what I done gets to ‘do whatever they want.’ You understand that?”
"I am honestly not sure what you're talking about, no," Sil says, staring at her in confusion. "Everybody gets to have their own thoughts and feelings and boundaries, and you can't go in other people's heads to dominate them, if that's what you're saying. That's a Lich King thing. And I am sorry you had a rough go of it as a kid. I did, too."
“So if someone decides to get a mob together to ‘fix the problem’ then that’s their business too?” Rozalin raises a harsh eyebrow, “I can’t believe you. I thought you were better than that.”
Sil blinks, blindsided. "Wait, what? Roz, I'm talking about keeping everybody safe, you included. Body and reputation, much as I can. I would not let anybody mob your farm. I hope it'd never come to that in the first place, but if it did I'd… talk folk down, if I could. Or if that didn't work I'd find a way to get you and the little one out safe and then maybe get the law involved if you wanted, against 'em - people don't get to commit crimes against folk 'cause they don't like who they associate with."
Rozalin purses her lips. She seems to have been calmed down at least a little bit, “Sorry if I’m not bein so optimistic.”
"It's a tough situation to deal with, I can see why it'd get you down," Sil says with genuine sympathy.
“Yeah…” Roz says a little dismissively, “I really hope at least some folk stick with me.”
"I bet some will," Sil says, looking back down at the stew. "But that's my advice, if you want to keep the farm. Untangle your associations. Maybe keep all this out of it, just say you need to resign because you're gonna focus on the farm you inherited. Then, when this comes out, folk as individuals can decide if they want to be involved, and how much."
Rozalin looks down and hesitantly puts a small spoonful of stew into her mouth and chews slowly, "Maybe you're right…"
Sil settles down to slowly enjoy his stew as well, giving Roz all the time she needs.
Rozalin picks at her meal but she doesn't seem to be very hungry anymore, "Hey… you think this kid is gonna have any friends?"
"I can't predict the future," Sil says cautiously. "I mean, maybe things'll be different in ten years time. They're… likely to have a hard time. But they'll have you, right? You'll love them."
“Y-yeah…” Rozalin breathes deep and uneasily, “I just wish Crim could be closer…”
Sil looks at her sadly. "Yeah, that's rough for you, too. If you weren't set on the farm, my best advice would've been both of you cut professional ties, go somewhere far from the war, where folk aren't going to mind so much. Like Gadgetzan or something."
Rozalin shakes her head, “That just sounds like running away. I’m done doing that.”
"Yeah, I mean, it's your call," Sil says, having another ladle of stew. Then he adds, "But whatever happens, wherever you go, I'd say keep an eye on what you're running to not from. I've always found that's a nicer way to think of it. Like, I was not running from my family, I was buildin' something new for myself, you know?"
“I think that makes sense.” Rozalin sets down her spoon and sets her chin down on her fists, “I wanna run to a place where the Alliance and Horde ain’t at eachother’s throats all the time.”
Sil rests his own head on one hand, his eyes going distant in thought again. "There are places like that. Shattrath, for one, though it's on another world. Nothing in that city was split Horde or Alliance. And goblin towns, the Steamwheedle ones. They welcome all sorts and don't draw lines."
Rozalin shakes her head, “You’re missin the point. Just cause I run off don’t mean the fightin stops.”
"That's true," Sil nods. "It'll still be going on elsewhere. But I don't know that there's much we can do, as individuals, to stop it. It's all up to like… King Varian and Warchief Hellscream, I guess. The war, anyway."
Rozalin shrugs, “I dunno… Maybe if people see that I’m happy where I am they won’t wanna fight so much.”
"Maybe," Sil says, and does not comment on the likelihood of one woman loving an orc undoing thirty years of violent history. "I'll hope for you, for the future. While you plan for the present."