Interlude - For the worst may yet come

“The prince has completely lost his mind out there in the North. He killed his own father upon return and proclaimed himself King of Lordaeron.. His whereabouts are not known at the moment, but the kingdom has fallen to anarchy.”

She had gotten used to such reports coming from the Southern borders with Lordaeron, Niniel Ain’Ethil thought wryly. She ran the best information network there had ever been in Ouel’Thalas – the main reason why she had not been put out of the Ranger Corps years before, for indiscipline.
In truth, it was not very hard to be charged for such under Sylvanas Windrunner’s command. The woman did not accept the meekest protest…the humblest comment to her orders…

“Eirean…”

She had hoped he didn’t know, yet. The Convocation of Silvermoon decided to keep the news secret, at least until they knew whether there was any danger aimed at themselves.
But with his father a high ranking Magister, it was a foolishness to believe Eireannan wasn’t among the first to find out.

“Eirean. Look at me!”

He did. Emerald eyes as cold as winter’s heart met hers and Niniel shuddered.

She wanted to extend her hand and touch him, hold him, tell him it was all going to be just fine. Tell her that she loved him and his pain hurt her to the bone.
Dusk bathed the Sunspire gardens in crimson light, painting a healthy shade on Eireannan’s face – one Niniel knew very well was not there. He averted his eyes and she finally exhaled. That gaze mad it hard to breathe.

“I should have gone with him”, Eireannan said wearily. His voice was distant, emotionless. At least he didn’t lay numb, staring beyond her as if she were a wall.

“He was always so easily…angered…too rash and careless but…this…Light, this is…”

“You could have done nothing”, Niniel said softly.

He gazed at his hands, examining them carefully, as if expecting to see stains no one else would be able to notice.
With a sigh, Niniel tried to look elsewhere, at the statues lining the gardens, white marble glimmering faintly in the sunset light.

“The Ranger General has ordered us to prepare to march for the borderlands. No one can say if there is danger yet, but she’d rather be prepared.”

“I should have gone with him to Northrend…” he repeated, quietly, oblivious to her words. Niniel gave him a worried frown, but Eireannan didn’t see it. “I abandoned him. I abandoned the Light and everyone I cared for… ”

“I’m still here, Eirean…” And I love you.

He didn’t seem to hear. She wondered whether he was in his right mind anymore. He would sit for days glaring at the ceiling – then suddenly bury himself into the library, frantically reading…

“Captain Ain’Ethil!”

She jumped to her feet in a second, standing to attention almost instinctively. Only two steps away, Sylvanas Windrunner gave them a strange look, the corners of her mouth twisting vaguely in a bitter smile.

“You are supposed to look over the preparations for departure, not do idle talk.”

“Yes, my Lady!”

Her zeal made Eireannan frown. The relationship between the two women could have been at best described as tense, especially since…He couldn’t remember very well what…and he wasn’t sure he had to, either.

His gaze trailed after Niniel, a shadow of smile on his lips, then returned to Sylvanas. She was tapping nervously her fingers against her thigh, another surprising thing for someone so composed as the Ranger General.

“We’re leaving in less than an hour” she said, slowly. “I though I should pass and say goodbye.” Her eyes became darker while she turned halfway to look after Niniel, as she strode away hurriedly but proudly, head held high. “Does she know?”

Eireannan gave her a blank stare. “What?”

He hadn’t obviously heard her last words.

“Never mind.” With a sigh, Sylvanas Windrunner brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled weakly. She was wearing the uniform of the Rangers, all blue and sparkling gold thread, her hair braided to the back with a matching length of silk.
Light, Eireannan looked bad. Tired and grim and absent, he had been so ever since he returned from Loraderon…She shivered. Not too much like the young man she had grown to care for. Her friend. Maybe her only true friend.

Did he even hear whatever they told him these days? It seemed no.

But then, to her surprise, Eireannan was on his feet as well and looking down on her.

“Then it means I have less than an hour to pack up…”

“What…! Anor’alah belore…!” The frustrated sound she gave made two passers by just turn their heads and stare at them. “ You are not going anywhere! Besides, it’s only routine. It’s safer to keep an eye on the borders, but that is all…what happens in Lordaeron is of no concern to us… A walk in the woods…nothing to worry about…”

“Do I look worried to you?” he snapped. “If it’s just a walk in the woods I’ll bring a picnic basket. But I’m not staying idle here while you two go out there! You have no idea what to expect, believe me!”
“You need rest and to take your mind off what had happened”. She blinked annoyed at the way in which she didn’t manage to order him around as she did with everyone else.

“I’ve very been concerned by your state of mind of late…You scare your father, and Niniel…and me.”

He smiled wryly. It was his old smile, but looked chilling with those death cold eyes.

“I am fine. As fine as I’ll get to be. And you may yet find this trekk in the Borderlands to be much more than you’ve asked for…”

His tone was sharp, without even a trace of the soft formality he used with her, even when they were alone. She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it back, pursing her lips. By the Sunwell, she was the Ranger General of Quel’Thalas and she was not letting herself goaded into a fight with him. Not in his current state, at any rate.

“That’s better”, Eireannan muttered as he stepped by her, without even seeming to notice her anger. Sylvanas started again to say something and again the words didn’t come out. “I’ll make ready in half an hour, then.”
And with that he whirled out of sight, letting her boil in her own steaming fury.