In 30 minutes I will see me wife.
She’ll walk t’rough tha door an look as stunning as ever. She’ll smell like jasmine an lotus oil. She’ll make a wee sound like fairies laughin as she walks wit ‘er bangles an jewelry jingling toget’er. Her skin will be t’e color of milky tea an just as warm an comfortin’ on me lips. She’ll --- Wait—will I kiss ‘er? Should I kiss ‘er?
Cedric sleepily reached a hand up and took hold of the base of one of the ringlet curls that spilled over her shoulder, pulling it down and releasing it so that the dark lock of twisted hair sprung back up and bounced a little. October gave the man a peeved look, reaching back with her free hand to make sure the tight tie keeping it all up in the back had not come loose, wincing as she jostled the matching powder blue fascinator that had been cemented against her head with a myriad of different hair-pins.
The Half-Elf grinned as he sat down, getting himself into a meditative position overlooking the sea. He always felt at home when he landed on one of the rocky outcroppings in the barrens, the warm rock, the breeze...the smell of the sea...he loved it all. It helped him think to be out in the wilds. Tonight was no exception. Only a few moments into the meditation and his mind was already at work....
Where does it come from?
This need I have to start things anew, over and over, until I finally get it right...
Not from my Father, nor my Mother.
They always loved me unconditionally, there was no need to change...
Was it my first wife? No...I would have changed...but there was again no need..
Was it my son? I tried to clean up for him....and fell deeper...
Was it his short life?
All of the things he would never be able to do?
He stood silently atop the frozen peak. The large mountain barely leaving much room to stand. The large bronze dragon perched, claws dug into the rock just below him. His eyes were forlorn as always...that blue glow distant and somewhat dim. The wind whistled and whipped about his platinum colored hair. His heavy plate armor anchoring him in the snow...the chill of the wind crept up his spine. He closed his eyes and began to go back...to a time when things were more simple.
The sky blackened with every passing minute, the hour itself permeated with the thick dreariness of death and suffering. Yet, in the eye of this unfathomable storm, stood hope. Here, in the midst of such evil and dread, stood the last push of the noble Alliance, valiant races, from human to gnome and unto dwarf, together ranked for the ideal of a free future away from the genocide brought unto them. Valiant Lothar, standing with honorable and just Turalyon, address their fellows from a gathering of hastily constructed defenses on the edge of the Searing Gorge. In the distance, the sounds of warfare are present, with the orcish horde violently crashing against the Alliance. All except one heard the yells and rallying cries of Anduin Lothar.
He holds her hand with a grin. He can feel the wind as it crashes against his face, his raven hair flinging back. In this moment, he can feel her and she him. He looks at her as they run along the lake’s edge. For a moment, he looks onto that azure pool, teeming with the life within it. Yet, in but an instant he looks back to a far more beautiful sight. She runs along with him, her hair hazel like his eyes. She giggles as she runs, looking back into his eyes, her emerald orbs deeper than the stars themselves. In this second, he can see his future, his children, and his life.
In these seconds, he is in bliss. He does not tell her. She already knows.
It's early evening in Dalaran and I’m standing in the window to Kharris’ wee flat, watching her - quite lovely - backside sashay on her walk to work. I don’t know if she knows I watch her down the street. I don’t even know if she’d care that I do. But I still do it. That’s what we are now – I suppose. I just hold my breath and hope she notices, hope she cares, hope it makes a difference… even though deep down, I know it’s unlikely. We’re nearing something. Whether it’s an end or just another strange direction is yet to be seen. I think we’re both riding blind in this one.
A soft smile splayed across her features as she watched the children running across the pathways near the Temple. Her gaze scans the peacefulness of Darnassus and the knowledge that she has contributed to the current mood of this place brings her more joy than the triumphs that garnered this respite.
Nightsonge, daughter of the Shadowfel, wife of Kaedarn-Shan'do of the Order - loved this land, loved it's people. From that love, a resolution to fight, to defend this realm so that the world would be preserved for another day. For her younger siblings. For her children...for all who lived and breathed.
Shortly after the Third great war.
Agoris looked deep into his lover’s eyes. He could not believe he had watched the vision of beauty before him grow into such a lovely young woman. Agoris was much too old for her but he didn’t care and neither did she. Now they were married in secret as her life had to remain. Agoris had butterflies in his stomach every time he looked into her eyes. He could see their future, their family, their love.
Agoris held the small child in his arms. He looked into those eyes and saw himself and his wife Eldrith there. He could hardly believe that he was a father again. His son, Agoris Lothar Rothan Jr. Eldrith liked that name so she chose it for their son as well. He looked up and smiled at Eldrith as he held their son.
Time used to move softly when I was at home.
It went on without me, and left me alone.
Now it's sits at my shoulder and claws at my hand
And I feel like I need you again.
My dearest Sara,