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| Details |
| Author: | Alli |
| Summary: | After White Squad investigates the Valley of Emperors, Shine comes back to share information with Lena. They make plans for what to do next. ~2900 words. |
| Rating: | M for Mature 17+ |
The Shines seem to be moving to progressively more rustic inns, and the village of Onekeg at the foot of the higher mountain paths is another step in that chain. The Lucky Traveller is a thick-walled, thatch-roofed, cozy building of stone and wood and lucky decorative rope, where cozy in this case means small. Their room this time has only a very small window, just enough for a tanuki to sneak out, perhaps. One side is taken up by the bed, while the other side holds a small table with two chairs, and there's only a little room for walking in between.
This evening, Lena rests on the bed in a loose cotton dress, made comfortable by the warmth of the inn, with her notebook propped up on her good knee. Over on the table steams two plates of food, and a little pot of tea with two cups. There are dumplings of some sort, rice, and dark green sauteed kale mixed with garlic and less easily identifiable herbs. All of this waits for the anticipated arrival of a certain Shine. On a little plate by the floor are a few steaming dumplings for a third little diner.
When a certain Shine arrives, he has already shed his heavy, fur-lined cloak and unlaced his boots. The cloak he has left in the outer room of the inn, hung on a peg by the common-room door; the boots he steps out of on the threshold of their room and sets just outside their door.
He holds the door open a moment longer so that the bewildered, be-sweatered Bun can shuffle in. "Warm," Shine says, and shuts the door to ease around the table and go to the bed to kiss Lena. "Smells good."
Bun has caught the scent of his natural prey (dumplings) and immediately forgotten that he is in Wool Hell as he scrambles toward his plate.
Lena looks up when the two come in the door, the notebook dropping carelessly open on the bedcover as she reaches for him. She stretches up to meet his kiss, while her hands find a place to rest on his shoulders.
"Welcome home," Lena says, dropping back a little and swinging her legs around. There's no wince now, though she is still wearing the brace. "Glad to hear it does — hope you're not tired of dumplings yet. They're mine. I borrowed a bit of time on the stove downstairs for it." She smiles a little shyly, at that, and adds, "Seems I guessed right on when you'd be back."
He steps back with a smile and offers her a hand to help her up. "Don't know if it's possible to be tired of dumplings. Don't think it's possible to be tired of your cooking, but I'll have to reserve judgement until I've had a lot more of it. Which I'm glad to do."
At the table — so, like a step away — he draws the chair out for her. "How's the writing?"
The shyness in her smile dissolves at his words into simple happiness, and she let's him help her to her feet, and into the chair a step away. While he seats himself, she starts pouring a dark tea into their glasses.
"Still going, but a little slowly," Lena admits, as she settles back the teapot and reaches around for her utensils. "Some things are obvious, like summoning's a lifesaver, of course. And water breathing. But I also want to be sure not to write things that prevent folk from helping. For instance, I feel like affliction's really the right specialization for fleet work. I feel like destruction is altogether too much fire for a ship, but maybe I'm wrong. And a focus on demonology… well, it depends on where the field goes next. I can't possibly categorize every demon a warlock might ever summon for safety and usefulness." She pauses, lifting a dumpling. "Or should I try?"
Shine settles opposite her, his expression thoughtful. "I suppose the important thing, if ye mean to make it broadly applicable to warlocks for the fleet, is to make sure you're clear as ye can be on what situations they might expect to be in, and what dangers might be that they wouldn't think of as novices aboard. Like the particular hazard of fire on a ship. Beyond that, ye can't possibly be expected to think of everything that might happen to any ship at any time, and if the demonologists — the others in general — can't be relied on to use their own judgement when needs must, then they should probably consider a different career. Different from warlocking, I mean, and not just sailing. Judgement's half the heart of it, isn't it?"
Lena nods slowly. "Yes, maybe I'm overthinking it a little. I do imagine anyone going into this has got to have good judgment of their own. Maybe the handbook should be more a guide, like pointing out niche uses they might not've thought about. Not covering every possible skill or situation. Maybe I should focus on myself, the things I've found and used. And then future editions can include stuff from other fleet warlocks."
Shine nods. "It's a good idea, to build the project initially from your own expertise. Naval work will be all-new to others, and you know your best practices as a WEB warlock on top of your particular insight and experience with the fleet. No one else has the context you do at present.
"But then in future editions, aye. It's too much to expect that you could plan or instruct for any situation ships at sea or in combat will get up to; ye've seen for yourself now how wild things can go, and ye don't want any of your people getting up false confidence they know how to handle it all from your book. And not every captain in the Alliance fleet is Fallon, either. So there's context, and context calls for judgement."
He smiles at her. "Though I'm the last man to tell anyone not to overthink a thing. I'm of the mind that in a technical project, ye should always start by overthinking and then whittle it down from there. Can be hard to know which pieces are necessary until ye see all the pieces laid out."
Bun has mysteriously misplaced his dinner already and now comes sniffing around beneath the table to see whether anyone has perchance released additional dumplings into the wild.
Lena is, sadly for the tanuki, smiling at Shine and paying no heed to poor, starving Buns. Do not think ill of her, Bun, she set you out a plate already.
"Maybe I'll just see if I can get a draft through to the end," Lena says, with a faint nod. "Then I'll hand it to you and… maybe Fallon? And we'll see if I need to whittle anything down or build further up. You'll have a different perspective, a different context. Anyway, I won't have so much to write on the demons myself. I've mostly been killing them lately."
Lena pauses on that totally ordinary note to eat a dumpling.
Shine nods. That is his smart and totally normal wife.
He tucks in to his meal and for a time does not say anything at all; he is clearly enjoying his dinner. He does, however, use his foot to gently urge the tanuki out from under the table. Bun, affronted, waddles to his bed and slumps down, curled up once more with his back to them. (Jail for father for One Thousand Years!!!)
"Gwen found some things today that might be useful," Shine says. "Some scrolls. Some tablet-rubbings. Page from a book. More mogu writing, so it'll take translating. Some of it, at least, about spirit-binding."
Lena had been eating as well in peaceful silence until Shine speaks, and then she looks over with interest.
"More to translate," Lena says with an excited gleam in her gaze. "I bet Gwen's made a good start on the books by now. If the method's settled, a few more pages shouldn't take much longer. Day went well, then? Run into more spirit-binders?"
Shine is quiet, but this time not because he's eating; he pushes his remaining food around on his plate for a few moments, then shakes his head. "Can't say the day went well, no. The Zandalari are here." He looks up at Lena. "Which Fallon will have to be told, and that's a job I don't envy the messenger save I suspect the messenger will be me. Could also mean we're fucked." He shrugs. "But aye, more spirit-binders, too. The trolls working with 'em."
"Zandalari," Lena breathes, setting her fork on the plate to look at him. "In the mountains? Did you… did you see ships, if you were high enough to see the sea? We can write Fallon, he'd likely rather know sooner than be told in person. And the fleets not here yet, but he'll want to fight…" she pauses. "Why would we be fucked?"
"Because they're allied with the mogu again, here to resurrect their 'Thunder King.' Apparently they've been sitting on that announcement for a few thousand years. And they're the Zandalari, and we're three ships and Cobalt Company. If their fleet puts in soon — hell, if it's already put in off the north coast and we just don't know it yet — well. Even when the Alliance navy does turn up, the state it's in right now, Zandalari will just turn it to so much kindling. And that's before we get to the blood sacrificing and all. Zandalari are as vicious as they are ambitious." He pauses. "… I shouldn't've rhymed that. Detracts from the gravity, I think. Didn't mean to, anyway."
"Tides," Lena says quietly. "I take the gravity. Is that what you're on next, finding out the extent of it? Where they are, and how many? If this is just a vanguard, maybe three ships and Cobalt would be enough to put a stop to this resurrecting business. Only the ships are in Krasarang, on the other side of Pandaria… I'll tell Taylor, if you'll write Fallon. Or we can trade." Lena sits back, staring into space. "Blood sacrificing. I'd thought that a Gurubashi thing. And it was them as did all that resurrecting and soul-transferrance down in Stranglethorn, except… maybe they joined back up under the Zandalari. I remember that being a thing, a while back."
"Aye, we were talking of that today. Might be worth writing to Captain Sparkwire, too. For the people who were involved there, if they have insight…." He shakes his head wearily. "I can do that. And I can tell whichever admiral you'd rather not, or both. Can't fathom what use Taylor might be in it all, though. Up here in the mountains, no ships, no marines, a half-trained lot of pandaren farmers."
He prods his food again. "The next step of the business is to find out where they are, where they're planning this resurrection. If we can. We found a map, but it was… muddied by blood magic. The Lorewalker's working on solving the spell now, and he'll send for us when he's cracked it."
"The pandaren farmers are learning," Lena says, biting the inside of her lip. "If the trolls are that vicious, though, they may cut right through them. And the Shado-Pan seem to be tied up with other things." She sighs. "The Lorewalker's a clever man, I hope he'll work it out in time. This Thunder King sounds like the sort we definitely don't want resurrected."
She pauses, looking at Shine. "You've… fought them before, the Zandalari?"
"Once," Shine says. "Once is enough to know they're dangerous if they intend to move here in numbers. And enough to know they'd only have to bring a fraction of their fleet to annihilate our three, cut off as we are. Fallon's encountered them more than I have, and he'll want a fight, but even he has to know the odds are… bad."
He hesitates. "I was thinking of the business in the jungle, the Zandalari trying to unite the tribes. The Horde has their tribe of trolls, and they were opposed to the Zandalari a year ago, but if there's one thing Hellscream's taught us, it's that leaders change, politics change, and even bad can go worse. If the Horde likes the look of this lot and Hellscream throws in with them… I'd think the Alliance is fucked entirely. The Horde, with mogu spirit-binders and Zandalari priests and the Zandalari fleet? There's no answering that."
He spears a dumpling with his fork. "I just can't know if Hellscream's too power-mad to share, or power-mad and mad enough to think he could get his hand on the reins. I'm hoping it's the first."
"The Horde with the mogu and the Zandalari," Lena shivers. "At least… the Darkspear were very opposed. Enough to send an emissary up into Stormwind Harbor direct, just to warn us. And if the Zandalari have got the other major tribes on board… the sin'dorei hate the Amani. Another voice against. The orcs, though, they're in charge, and if all they see is power… maybe he'll see there's strings attached."
Lena sighs, taking another forkful of kale. After, she adds, "All the more reason to stop this resurrection, and to figure what else they're up to. I can get around a little easier now. Maybe we can head back up the mountain soon, see if we can find any other hints."
Shine nods, his mouth full of dumpling. When he swallows, he says, "Aye, we ought to get back up there. I think if we haven't had word from Cho in the morning, I'll take a kite down to Krasarang and report to Fallon, and maybe you can talk to Taylor and then catch up with Gwen on what she's got? And then day after, if still no word from Cho, we should head up there."
"Sounds like that'd cover all our bases," Lena says, spearing another dumpling without looking at it. "I don't know what kind of strategy Fallon could put out against a whole fleet, but…" Lena bites her lip, moving the dumpling around on the plate. "He does have tricks. Mist and wind and storm and the like. And the fleet will need their warlocks, if it comes to naval battle. I might get pulled away from the whole soulbinding business. I hope not…" Lena looks down at her plate. "I feel like we're onto something here, and uncovering what their strategy is might be more useful than another pair of hands or two on deck, even if it's pairs that can weave curses."
Shine watches her. "Aye," he says. "Knowing what they're up to will matter. If ye can find out not just what they're doing but what their designs are, their goals…." He prods his food some more. "If worse comes to worst, Fallon's got the 6th E.U. nearby now. He could probably get hold of Captain Tyrrell fast enough to start summoning some of us from up here."
"Right, Captain Tyrrell," Lena says, with a touch more confidence in her voice. "It's a good thing the Alliance has warlocks — makes us that much more mobile. We can't count on that the mogu don't, what with the portals you've seen in the Wilds, but I bet they've not noticed ours yet. Not great for moving armies, but we haven't got armies right now anyway. With more information, maybe we can find a place where a small team can derail their plans."
Shine nods. "Cobalt's done it with some success so far," he says, in a tone that might be reminding himself as much as it is answering her. "Between you and Gwen — and the Lorewalker — I expect we'll be able to get in their way."
"I aim to," Lena says firmly, and then settles back. "Two more days, then. Either you'll be off stopping the Thunder King resurrection, or we'll see what we can figure out on our own. I bet Melancholy'll be excited to see more of the place." Lena smiles a little tiredly at Shine. "Half of me wants to run off into the mountains right now, but that'd be moving without intelligence, in all meanings of the word. Little we can do tonight."
"Well," says Shine thoughtfully. "I can think of some things we can do tonight. Not in the way of intelligence. But for morale, maybe."
Lena raises her head a little at that, a faint smile at the corners of her lips. "Oh? Morale is important, for both of us. There are… particular things you have in mind?"
"A few very particular things, aye. I can tell ye which ones, but it might be best if I just show ye. We'll want to clear the table off first, though." He looks very solemn.
"Let's get dinner cleared away, then," Lena says, the rising heat in her gaze betraying her innocent tone as she reaches for her plate. "I believe I'd be partial to a hands-on demonstration."
"Not just hands," Shine assures her gravely, as he gets to his feet to help clear the dishes away.
Lena takes her own plate, cup and teacup and sets them on a nearby tray on the floor. "I can take that all back down to the kitchen later." She pauses to take out her hair sticks, turning back to Shine as her hair falls into loose waves around her face. "No rush. We can take our time."