(2025-07-01) Light Enough

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Author:	Alli
Summary:	The day after the news of Theramore, Siamus stops by to see how Aszera is faring. She's doing about as well as might be expected. ~3000 words.
Rating:	M for Mature 17+

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inebriation, language, poor self-care, emotional distress

A visitor looking at the newly-developed Resurrection Row in Stormwind's Oldtown might see it as a sign of growth and renewal. A positive sign of change in the month after Deathwing's demise. The complete and utter destruction of Theramore the night before has no impact here, except in the minds and hearts of the inhabitants. That may be why traffic is a little subdued today, as the city mourns the loss of so many good people, as well as the loss of the human foothold in Kalimdor.

At the end of the lane, closest to the main street, there's a building with a little shingle titled PRIVATE INVESTIGATIONS on the bottom floor. The building itself fits well with the style of Oldtown — wood and grey stone, a red roof — but is otherwise a more modern design, taller, with a black chimney pipe and dormer windows on the apartments above the business.

There is no sign of life in the apartment immediately upstairs from the detective agency this evening. The windows are dark, illuminated only by the light of the setting sun. There is no movement to be glimpsed through them, no one bustling about dinner or evening entertainment. It is, however, inhabited.

A distinguished-looking gentleman in aristocratically-tailored navy blue wearily mounts the stairs to the building's front door. It takes him a moment to find a key in his coat pocket, and then he unlocks the door to let himself in and closes it firmly behind him. He climbs the interior stairs toward that first apartment.

He raps lightly on the door with a knuckle. "Aszera?" he asks. "It's Siamus."

There's a long pause, and then a barely-audible voice on the other side says, "Siamus?"

The door is unlocked from the inside and pulled back, and Aszera is illuminated by the darkening sunlight through a hallway window against the lightless apartment. She isn't in a ballgown today, or even her leather armor — just soft black trousers tight to her legs and a loose blue blouse over.

"Siamus," Aze repeats, and it seems to take her some effort to focus on the word. She steps back, a little unsteadily. "Come in? If you want to come in."

He studies her for a moment, his gaze shadowed with concern. "Aye," he says. "I do." He does not ask how she's doing, just steps into the apartment.

“I wasn't sure if you would come — I'm glad you did," Aze says, and she closes the door behind him, throwing them both into complete darkness. It takes her another moment before she realizes and says, "Wait, fuck, light. Is it night outside?"

There are footsteps, and she pulls aside the curtains from one of the windows, casting the room in twilight. Just inside the door is the main part of a small apartment, an open space that has a kitchen and dining area to the right, and a living area just ahead. Or it would, if there were a table and chairs, or a couch, or… well, anything. The only 'furniture' is a few pillows in the sin'dorei style over in the living area, blue with grey stitching.

The room is, at least, kept very clean and tidy. The main evidence that the place is inhabited is a few empty wine bottles neatly lined up on the kitchen counter, as well as a mostly-full open one with a half-empty glass next to it.

"Is that alright?" Aze asks, turning back to Siamus. "Can you see?"

"Aye," Siamus agrees. "May take me a moment. I'll adjust. It's dark below on a ship." He takes his coat off and drapes it over his arm, then makes a slow survey of the area as his vision gradually returns. "Ye haven't… any furniture, Aszera," he observes, in case she is not aware.

"Yeah, that's… I'll get to it," Aze waves a hand vaguely. "Ally said she'll help me pick things out, but I don't know when I can go out shopping again. And there's — I have the pillows from Yara for sitting. So we can sit." Some kind of hostess instinct kicks in, and she adds, "Would you like a drink?"

Siamus watches her somberly for a moment. "Aye, thank ye kindly, I could do with one."

He makes another assessment of the room. "Would ye like some things delivered meanwhile? As ye can't go out shopping? I could have a table, chairs — d'ye have a bed, Aszera?" He does not seem to be asking from ulterior motive; there is a note of startled, genuine concern in his voice.

"I have blankets," Aze says, turning to the kitchen and getting another glass out of the cabinet. She also has wineglasses, at least. Priorities. She falls silent while she carefully pours Siamus a glass of wine, and then she continues, "Comfortable enough, and really the point of a home is the lock on the door, right? Besides, I don't even know what I can afford. I haven't looked at furniture prices yet."

She walks back over to Siamus holding both glasses of wine, and she offers him the full one with a tentative smile. "I hope this is okay. Will you sit?"

Siamus accepts the glass. "Aye," he agrees, and then waits politely to be directed at where he is expected to sit. "I can have a few things sent, Aszera, so ye aren't sleeping on a floor in a dark apartment. And if… Ally? Do I know an Ally? If your friend Ally has an eye ye trust, she can pick the things out and I'll see them delivered."

"Yeah, you know Ally. Alaisa Lysander?" Aze's tongue only stumbles a little on the formal name. She takes a sip of wine, and folds herself easily to sit on her heels on one of the blue cushions. She helpfully gestures at the other one, for him to sit. "And, really, I'm fine, but… yeah, I'd like that, if you would." She pauses, tilting her head toward the window. "Is it too dark? There's probably a switch somewhere. It just doesn't make much of a difference to me."

"It's fine," Siamus assures her, and moves to settle on the designated cushion, folding his legs only a little awkwardly. "Ah, the Lysander girl? Friend of Ta's, aye, I do know her. If ye have a list of things ye'd like, I can pass it to her for the shopping, or ye can just send it to her direct and tell her I'll handle what's needed regarding the finance and delivery. Or ye can just — I can just have her pick some basic things, bed and table and whatnot. Chest of drawers?"

He looks around. What do people who furnish rooms and do not live out of sea chests consider basic furniture?

Apart from beds. Those are obvious.

"Basic things," Aze agrees, her voice going a little vague. "I don't know, do I need drawers? I have the trunk I brought to Fallon House, and all my clothes fit in it. I don't need so many clothes anyway."

Maybe Aze doesn't know either, Siamus.

"I'll contact her, let her know," Aze says. "If she's still willing to help after…" Aze waves her wineglass hand, coming dangerously close to spilling wine on the floor, "…everything."

"D'ye think she might not be?" Siamus asks. "Are ye wary of your friends, Aszera?"

"I think she will be," Aze says, turning fully toward Siamus and leaning toward him slightly. "But I've thought a lot of things over the years that turned out to not… it's better to be ready, right?" Aze shivers, and takes another sip of wine. "I'll write to her."

"Do that," says Siamus, watching her. "If ye believe she's trustworthy. I can ask Ta about her if ye worry."

He has a sip of wine, still watching Aze. "Ye get an early start on the bottle, then?"

"A little bit. Sitting in here with my thoughts — they get away from me sometimes," Aze winces and rub base of her palm against her temple as if her head hurts. "I just wanted to get some sleep tonight, but then… I should've probably waited for you first." She takes a slow breath, lets it out, and says, "I am sure of Ally. I trust her with my life, so I'd trust her to pick furniture, too. You don't need to ask Sintha."

"Aye, all right then," Siamus says mildly. "Ye let her know, and ye have her let me know, and we'll see it's taken care of. I'll ask Brophy and his lads to do the delivering, the lads from down at the docks. I trust 'em like my own hands, ye won't have trouble with them."

He has another sip of wine, still watching her. "I'm sorry ye thought I might not come."

"But you did," Aze says with a flicker of a smile. "Thanks… for everything. I would have understood if you didn't. It's a busy time." Her expression darkens as she adds, "And besides… I know how angry I am, even though I've never even been there. You must be… I wish there were people I could kill for this — for the Alliance. But I can stay here, too, and not make problems."

"I am — aye. Angry. I'd been there, years gone, and had no love for the place. But even so…." Siamus drinks some more. "If there's to be war — of course there's to be war, the question for our side is when and how, not whether, and Hellscream's clearly got no question at all — when there's to be war, we'll find a place for ye to come along with it. For now, I don't want there to be problems for you, aye?"

Aze gives another brief smile and drinks more wine. "I'll make it through, no problem. I've been in worse spots before. Nobody's tried to test my durability yet. As for war, thanks, again. I want to be in the war, I should be, or what's even the point of me, but… I also get that I probably look like the enemy to a lot of people right now."

"We'll give 'em a little time," Siamus says tiredly. "Everything's an uproar at the moment. Ye have plenty of friends to vouch for ye. If ye'd like, I could let Pennings of the Guard know, and she can have patrol officers keep a weather eye on the neighborhood."

"Yeah? That might help. I have friends in the guard," Aze says a little bit hazily. Siamus knows that already, Aze. "I don't know a Pennings, though. Is she pretty?" Aze pauses. "Pretty nice?"

"She is a very attractive lady, I would wager in her late forties or early fifties. Absolutely no nonsense, very competent, charming." It is possible that Lathrik, Elle, and Reniya would be astonished to hear Pennings called charming, but Siamus's standards are different. "She's the officer in charge of Trade District and Old Town patrols. The lads all work under her command. Hartrim and the rest."

"Pretty young to be in charge of… no, wait…" Aze looks briefly disoriented. She shakes her head and has another sip of wine. "No nonsense sounds good, given the circumstances. The 'lads' liked me alright, so maybe she'll — no, I know, before you say it. It's not a matter of liking. I'll do my part when I can, whether people like me for it or not."

Siamus laughs gently. "I'm thirty-four," he observes. He forgets the age difference too. "And it isn't about liking, no. But ye will earn people's respect when they see ye doing your part, and what ye can do."

"Thirty-four," Aze says, with an exhale of a laugh, and she doesn't offer her own age. "As for respect… maybe, if I'm careful enough. I was pretty fucking impressive before, that's why they picked me. But now, I don't know. If I slip up, it might be fear instead. Would it bother you, to see me as a demon?"

Siamus drinks and thinks about this. "I can't say, if I'm honest. The only demons I've seen at much proximity are Miss Coit's, and she confines herself generally to the… dog-thing, or the little chattering one. I saw the dreadlord Mal'ganis when we fought the Onslaught, but ye don't strike me as the dreadlord sort, Aszera."

"I'm not a dreadlord," Aze says, smiling, and takes another sip of wine. "Thanks for the honesty. I'll try to keep… to not… but there's a balance, right? Because I should be using whatever I am for the Alliance. I shouldn't be holding back."

"No, aye, that's true," Siamus agrees. "We'll have to see ye serve with those who won't take it amiss, to start, until people are used to it."

"Probably a good idea," Aze nods agreeably. "Before, they kept us all separate, our own… group. I don't know if that was for safety or because Stormrage was just full of himself. A newly-made demon hunter is not something you want around your allies, but I'm not that, not anymore. Anyway, I'm just rambling, I shouldn't…" Aze trails her hand down her torso. "This is my body, the one I was born with, the one you know."

Siamus lowers his glass to study her. "And an excellent one it is. Do I seem to doubt it? That it's yours? I don't believe I've ever had cause to."

"I'm not a dreadlord," Aze says again, her smile slipping away as her head falls forward. "The demon — it's just a part of my soul. If you ever see things… it's not like pieces of a real self I'm hiding, or anything like that. The demon isn't me. How did I even get on this…? Respect, we were talking about respect."

Siamus watches her for a moment, then rises from his seat and shifts to settle close beside her, shoulder to shoulder. "Ye have friends, Aszera. Loyal ones, who care for ye. What the rest of 'em see — they'll learn. It may take time, and it will start with respect, but they'll learn." He lifts his wineglass for a sip, then lowers it again and glances at the window. "It may take time," he repeats wearily.

Aze leans her weight gently against his shoulder, but for once there's mostly just a simple need for comfort in the touch. "Time, yes. Like it was with the Argent Crusade. I'm just… not made for idleness. The wine helps. I know this is best, for now. I'll keep still and quiet, until you can point me at whoever needs killing."

"I know," says Siamus with gentle sympathy. "About maddening idleness. We'll see if we can't find something to occupy ye besides the wine."

Aze runs her free hand through her hair, the fingers catching lightly on the blindfold, and tilts her head towards Siamus. "If I can get some sleep… without dreams… I'll get back on things tomorrow. Room's big enough for a little exercise, especially before I get that furniture. I'll stay sharp and ready." She pauses, and then asks, "How is everyone at the house? Is Isla upset? She wasn't at… she was too young for the party. And Sintha and Mr. Boutille and Her Grace and the others…"

"Ah." Siamus's expression is invisible to Aze, but his tone is pained. "Isla did not… she took it very badly, aye. Finley's bearing up. The House is… Not many of our people had a great love for Theramore, but there were others who remember the place — Lena, Shine, Vane, Burren — and it's been… a great deal of shock."

"I should —" Aze starts, shifting as if to rise, and then slumps back down, loose-limbed. "No, I'm not — they wouldn't want — tell them I worried, if they ask. Isla, Mr. Boutille, Lena, Mr. Shine, the others. That I didn't just forget them, at a time like this. That I'm fine, and I'm here and I'll do… whatever needs doing."

"I'll tell them," Siamus reassures her gently. "They'll know ye haven't forgotten them, Aszera. And they'll be glad to know you're safe here in the city."

Aze breathes in slowly and then out, resting against his shoulder. "Isla… at least it's not her first disaster, and this has… more distance. Maybe she'll recover alright. Then again, she's so young — I don't know if that makes it harder. I was grown before the Scourge."

"She's very young, aye. It's hard to say. Things that happen to us young… they can leave a deeper impression, one we don't understand in the way an adult might. It can haunt more strangely. She was plagued with nightmares for years since Lordaeron." He slips his arm around Aze. "But she was one of the dreamers trapped in the Nightmare, and she was in the city last year when the dragon came, and now — She's young, and her fancies shield her from some things, but being young these days is not much like being young was once. Not in this world."

"Not in the last decade, for sure. She's just so… bright. Little sun. Even after so much…I hope the world can't take it from her," Aze says, something a touch wistful in her tone. "I dodged the Nightmare, for the most part, and I was still in Northrend when — all we got was earthquakes. But maybe I should've talked with her more about the Scourge. Just for her to know she's not the only one haunted. It seemed too dark — I didn't want to give her more darkness. The brightness is precious."

"Aye, no," Siamus agrees. "I think ye did right not to talk to her on it. At the House she's surrounded by the ones who went through it with her. I think a child of Isla's nature does better to grow toward the light, like a little sunflower."

"A little sunflower," Aze repeats, with a faint smile. "I hope the clouds part, the horrors fade. For her, and for all of us."