((Co-written with the player of Zane Grimsky, with my thanks))
Zane Grimsky had stalked the whereabouts of Jon Chess; she needed quite badly to see him. her mind was very unsettled, she was worried that she was losing him. She reached the closed shop - the Scribes and Nobles Bookshop - above which he lived in Boralus. She paced outside his apartment, seeming quite frazzled. Her leather armor was not completely buckled, strands of her golden-blonde hair had escaped her messy bun, cascading down her spale golden-hued skin. Her cuffs were unfashioned, her collar not folded over, and most importantly, in her haste and disquiet, she had left the bracers which changed her appearance behind, putting her at risk of being caught by the Alliance as a Sin'dorei spy. Tears of worry stung her face for a moment as she turned, wrapping her fist on the locked door.
Every moment seemed like an exposed eternity before the sound of the door being unlocked reached her ears. The door opened, and the fellow most people know as Jon Chess stood there a moment while he recognized Zane without her Ren'dorei disguise. "Get in here," he said, reaching out to pull her through the doorway into the safety of the closed shop. Locking the door once more, he led her up the stairs to the room he rented - a simple enough space with a stove, a bed, a chest with his belongings, and a small bookshelf with the collection of books he was actively reading. Jon went to put the tea kettle on the stovetop; like so many, his first reaction to unsettling events on his doorstep was to make a soothing cup of tea.
Zane knew the danger in which she has put herself in coming like this, but she felt more than a bit broken at the moment; she had this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could not shake, even through her countless talks with her friend and employer Linenia. She sat on the ground, sort of behind Jon, trying to wipe her face clean and not let him see her so upset, even though several sniffles gave it away. "Jon..." she said in a weak voice.
Jon bent over and picked Zane up bodily, and carried her to his unmade bed. He set down carefully, holding her closely in his arms, trying to comfort and calm her. "Hush now, " he said, pulling her head to his chest. "Relax and calm down... I am right here, you are safe... " he crooned softly, trying to calm his little bird enough that she could convey what had driven her to such a state.
Zane melted against him, breathing in his scent, enjoying the closeness. His touch seemed to make all in the world okay. She rested against him in what seemed to be forever, not saying a word at all. She needed this, his touch. She had missed it at their last meeting, while they enjoyed an evening together it had felt empty, maybe she had over-thought it then, but she took many of his words to heart. She lived the dream for a moment and then found herself having to look Jon in his eyes as she sighed. Her voice cracked as she just once again repeated just his name. "Jon..."
"Zaneyrne Grimsky," Jon said, kissing the top of her head. "What is wrong, mi inamorata?" he said, using the Kul Tiran endearment.
She looked up at him and a soft smile painted her lips as she reached up and touched his face. "I... I... I am not very good at this part..." She closed her eyes and went over the lecture she had gotten from Linenia. She opened her eyes, again trying her best to speak her feelings, "My heart is breaking... I fear... I am losing you..."
Jon nodded. "I feel that you are not losing me so much as throwing me away." Jon sighed. "Part of it is probably unavoidable - whether Ren'dorei, Sin'dorei, Kaldorei, Quel'dorei, Shal'dorei, or even San'layn, all of the Elvin peoples are not very well-suited for life with ordinary humans. Your sense of time... I spend weeks sometimes, with no word from you, no contact here," Jon touched his lips, "or here," Jon said, touching his enchanted necklace that allowed telepathic conversations with select others. "Humans are like pet animals, Zane... we need care and feeding every day...or at least I do."
Zane shook her head and touched his face. "You're not a pet; you are my 'other me', the parts of me I do not know how to be. Call me a romantic, odd for my race - a lifetime commitment to mates is from the Kaldorei mainly, but I am not one of those... just a 'Zane'dorei', and I am sorry if my concept of time is sometimes a problem. I took your words to heart..." She found herself on the verge of crying, dabbing her puffy eyes a few times to stop it. "I would never throw you away, Jon."
"No wonder the Kaldorei and the Sin'dorei don't get along then.... Kaldorei mate for life, like wolves, and the Sin'dorei seem to mate like rabbits - fast and ubiquitous... well, to be fair, feral rabbits with sharp fangs. But still... revolving beds," Jon said. "By the way, is that why the beds in Silvermoon are round?" he teased, trying to get her to laugh a little.
She rolled her eyes at Jon. "No, they're round so you don't have a corner to hold onto, you just have to take the pounding given to you..." she could not help but pipe out with a little smile, and then went back goes back to being serious. "Jon, you are my Azeroth... the last meeting we had, felt so empty and you were cold almost, it killed me... I could not piece together all that I did to make you this way." Her ears turned down expressively at the tips as she frowned.
"I am sorry for that, Zane," said Jon, frowning. "That mission for the Sentinels, where I almost got you fucking killed, really bothered me... I don't mind taking chances when it's just myself at risk, but then you went off and I didn't hear from you afterward for weeks..." His voice trailed off. "And now, the ungrateful bint may want is to do more... And then Trias fired me... and I have really only seen you once, when you did that translation job - good job, by the way - and then I had to go out to Northrend on a missing persons case... the only way I can function as your commanding officer is to be the Rook, and the Rook is ... not known for his warmth." In point of fact, the Rook was the manifestation of all of Jon's ruthless and cruel nature and had once been a separate personality in Jon's mind. The two parts had been integrated, but Jon still referred to that part of himself as if it was a different person.
She reached up with both her hands let her soft hands touch his cheekbones and trail across his face, to touch his normal ears and tug on the earlobes. "Jon, I understand that takes me from working me to regular Zane, but I never want to be that serious, cold Sin'Dorei around you, because the moment I see you, you warm any cold part of me. I probably deserved it, I should not have returned to Silvermoon for medical care, but I did not want to see you while I was injured, and it's not like you can just walk into Silvermoon and visit me. But you never have to be Rook with me, as I will try and never be... 'Grim' with you."
Jon chuckled. "Oh, I can just walk into Silvermoon any time, my cover identity is pretty well established..." Once upon a time, while he and his former fiance Lynesia Deh'lorei had been protecting a client, they had killed a Sin'dorei assassin named Dalmilandril, and Jon had taken his identity so that he could operate freely inside Silvermoon and Horde territories. "The only question is whether or not I get to walk out again."
She sighed. "I did not want you to see what you did, or what you would take the blame for. Jon, you know in our line of work we get hurt, and sometimes even hurt really, really badly. Its just with the job, my biggest fear was for you to have seen me and then blame yourself for it."
"So, instead of knowing how bad your injuries actually were, I could instead imagine the worst and then blame that on my actions?" Jon said gently. "I was the field commander, love... I not only feel responsible, I am responsible."
"Jon, it was not my best decision okay? I think about me - if it were me - and you slipped and fell to some doom of a sinkhole, and then I saw you all broken and stuff...." She looked down, her lip quivered, and she started to cry again, her voice squeaked as she looked up at him, "I just...just thought it was the right thing... I thought that Sentinel would of given you my message of where I went, but she seemed stuck on her mission. I am sorry Jon."
Jon pulled her close to him again, comforting her. "Lets forget about it, mi amore; or rather, let us both learn from it. If you get injured, I need to be able to assess it for myself - I do care all these medical supplies for a reason, y'know. Let me help. The last time... well, I couldn't help at Theramore, and it almost killed me just as dead as the Mana Bomb would have." He was very careful to say that he would much rather die himself that survive that kind of loss again.
Zane Grimsky had stalked the whereabouts of Jon Chess; she needed quite badly to see him. her mind was very unsettled, she was worried that she was losing him. She reached the closed shop - the Scribes and Nobles Bookshop - above which he lived in Boralus. She paced outside his apartment, seeming quite frazzled. Her leather armor was not completely buckled, strands of her golden-blonde hair had escaped her messy bun, cascading down her spale golden-hued skin. Her cuffs were unfashioned, her collar not folded over, and most importantly, in her haste and disquiet, she had left the bracers which changed her appearance behind, putting her at risk of being caught by the Alliance as a Sin'dorei spy. Tears of worry stung her face for a moment as she turned, wrapping her fist on the locked door.
Every moment seemed like an exposed eternity before the sound of the door being unlocked reached her ears. The door opened, and the fellow most people know as Jon Chess stood there a moment while he recognized Zane without her Ren'dorei disguise. "Get in here," he said, reaching out to pull her through the doorway into the safety of the closed shop. Locking the door once more, he led her up the stairs to the room he rented - a simple enough space with a stove, a bed, a chest with his belongings, and a small bookshelf with the collection of books he was actively reading. Jon went to put the tea kettle on the stovetop; like so many, his first reaction to unsettling events on his doorstep was to make a soothing cup of tea.
Zane knew the danger in which she has put herself in coming like this, but she felt more than a bit broken at the moment; she had this sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that she could not shake, even through her countless talks with her friend and employer Linenia. She sat on the ground, sort of behind Jon, trying to wipe her face clean and not let him see her so upset, even though several sniffles gave it away. "Jon..." she said in a weak voice.
Jon bent over and picked Zane up bodily, and carried her to his unmade bed. He set down carefully, holding her closely in his arms, trying to comfort and calm her. "Hush now, " he said, pulling her head to his chest. "Relax and calm down... I am right here, you are safe... " he crooned softly, trying to calm his little bird enough that she could convey what had driven her to such a state.
Zane melted against him, breathing in his scent, enjoying the closeness. His touch seemed to make all in the world okay. She rested against him in what seemed to be forever, not saying a word at all. She needed this, his touch. She had missed it at their last meeting, while they enjoyed an evening together it had felt empty, maybe she had over-thought it then, but she took many of his words to heart. She lived the dream for a moment and then found herself having to look Jon in his eyes as she sighed. Her voice cracked as she just once again repeated just his name. "Jon..."
"Zaneyrne Grimsky," Jon said, kissing the top of her head. "What is wrong, mi inamorata?" he said, using the Kul Tiran endearment.
She looked up at him and a soft smile painted her lips as she reached up and touched his face. "I... I... I am not very good at this part..." She closed her eyes and went over the lecture she had gotten from Linenia. She opened her eyes, again trying her best to speak her feelings, "My heart is breaking... I fear... I am losing you..."
Jon nodded. "I feel that you are not losing me so much as throwing me away." Jon sighed. "Part of it is probably unavoidable - whether Ren'dorei, Sin'dorei, Kaldorei, Quel'dorei, Shal'dorei, or even San'layn, all of the Elvin peoples are not very well-suited for life with ordinary humans. Your sense of time... I spend weeks sometimes, with no word from you, no contact here," Jon touched his lips, "or here," Jon said, touching his enchanted necklace that allowed telepathic conversations with select others. "Humans are like pet animals, Zane... we need care and feeding every day...or at least I do."
Zane shook her head and touched his face. "You're not a pet; you are my 'other me', the parts of me I do not know how to be. Call me a romantic, odd for my race - a lifetime commitment to mates is from the Kaldorei mainly, but I am not one of those... just a 'Zane'dorei', and I am sorry if my concept of time is sometimes a problem. I took your words to heart..." She found herself on the verge of crying, dabbing her puffy eyes a few times to stop it. "I would never throw you away, Jon."
"No wonder the Kaldorei and the Sin'dorei don't get along then.... Kaldorei mate for life, like wolves, and the Sin'dorei seem to mate like rabbits - fast and ubiquitous... well, to be fair, feral rabbits with sharp fangs. But still... revolving beds," Jon said. "By the way, is that why the beds in Silvermoon are round?" he teased, trying to get her to laugh a little.
She rolled her eyes at Jon. "No, they're round so you don't have a corner to hold onto, you just have to take the pounding given to you..." she could not help but pipe out with a little smile, and then went back goes back to being serious. "Jon, you are my Azeroth... the last meeting we had, felt so empty and you were cold almost, it killed me... I could not piece together all that I did to make you this way." Her ears turned down expressively at the tips as she frowned.
"I am sorry for that, Zane," said Jon, frowning. "That mission for the Sentinels, where I almost got you fucking killed, really bothered me... I don't mind taking chances when it's just myself at risk, but then you went off and I didn't hear from you afterward for weeks..." His voice trailed off. "And now, the ungrateful bint may want is to do more... And then Trias fired me... and I have really only seen you once, when you did that translation job - good job, by the way - and then I had to go out to Northrend on a missing persons case... the only way I can function as your commanding officer is to be the Rook, and the Rook is ... not known for his warmth." In point of fact, the Rook was the manifestation of all of Jon's ruthless and cruel nature and had once been a separate personality in Jon's mind. The two parts had been integrated, but Jon still referred to that part of himself as if it was a different person.
She reached up with both her hands let her soft hands touch his cheekbones and trail across his face, to touch his normal ears and tug on the earlobes. "Jon, I understand that takes me from working me to regular Zane, but I never want to be that serious, cold Sin'Dorei around you, because the moment I see you, you warm any cold part of me. I probably deserved it, I should not have returned to Silvermoon for medical care, but I did not want to see you while I was injured, and it's not like you can just walk into Silvermoon and visit me. But you never have to be Rook with me, as I will try and never be... 'Grim' with you."
Jon chuckled. "Oh, I can just walk into Silvermoon any time, my cover identity is pretty well established..." Once upon a time, while he and his former fiance Lynesia Deh'lorei had been protecting a client, they had killed a Sin'dorei assassin named Dalmilandril, and Jon had taken his identity so that he could operate freely inside Silvermoon and Horde territories. "The only question is whether or not I get to walk out again."
She sighed. "I did not want you to see what you did, or what you would take the blame for. Jon, you know in our line of work we get hurt, and sometimes even hurt really, really badly. Its just with the job, my biggest fear was for you to have seen me and then blame yourself for it."
"So, instead of knowing how bad your injuries actually were, I could instead imagine the worst and then blame that on my actions?" Jon said gently. "I was the field commander, love... I not only feel responsible, I am responsible."
"Jon, it was not my best decision okay? I think about me - if it were me - and you slipped and fell to some doom of a sinkhole, and then I saw you all broken and stuff...." She looked down, her lip quivered, and she started to cry again, her voice squeaked as she looked up at him, "I just...just thought it was the right thing... I thought that Sentinel would of given you my message of where I went, but she seemed stuck on her mission. I am sorry Jon."
Jon pulled her close to him again, comforting her. "Lets forget about it, mi amore; or rather, let us both learn from it. If you get injured, I need to be able to assess it for myself - I do care all these medical supplies for a reason, y'know. Let me help. The last time... well, I couldn't help at Theramore, and it almost killed me just as dead as the Mana Bomb would have." He was very careful to say that he would much rather die himself that survive that kind of loss again.
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