First Impressions

[heirtothedragonsfire]

Zandros
Finally, finally! He's hardly known of her for weeks but today Zandros finds himself filled with such anticipation at meeting Isidor Durant. His future wife! His future fiancée! But first and presently, the woman whose heart he must win over. Great expectations are placed on his shoulders -- the unification of two families, of two worlds.... And most importantly, of two hearts as one. He must make the best  possible impression the very second their eyes meet, and must only strive to be better from there forward.

It's for this reason that today he's dressed himself as finely as he had when he first arrived in the Durant manor. The golden trim on his cerulean Alliance officer's jacket shines in the light, as does his matching blonde hair, freshly cleaned and brushed just so to frame his handsome cheeks and strong jaw. The cage-hilted rapier at his side is purely for decoration and wisely sheathed inside of a silver and gold case. His commendation medals gleam, proudly polished and on display for a woman who must know nothing about how or where they were earned.

His mother accompanies him by PINpoint on their trip to the manor today -- an unaccompanied suitor would send the wrong sort of message, after all -- also clad in blues and golds in a similar style of bulky, ruffled dress as last she came. No servant accompanies them this time. This is not a business meeting, after all; this is a meeting of two young people preparing to start their new lives together.

The moment Zandros sets foot in the Durant manor he must fight to contain himself. It would be unseemly to search too obviously for the first sign of his future bride, but his light green eyes do roam. He simply cannot wait...

Isidor
The Archon and Viatorus are the first to greet the Alters. Despite the Archon’s firm instructions beforehand, Viatorus has to stumble over a little bit of staring as he takes in Zandros. A soldier. Of course his sister would get a soldier. They lead their guests to a patio where a table waits for them with a jug of elderflower pressé, sandwiches and small cakes. The day is dry and reasonably warm and the vast grounds are immaculate.

Lieselotte has a talent for wrapping things up in appealing ways. Unpleasant options, gaudy decor, uninteresting food… today it’s her daughter. It isn’t that she think Isidor isn’t beautiful, but her daughter’s opinion of this wasn’t difficult to decipher and if Isidor was going to try and sabotage this, Lieselotte had to do everything in her power to stop her. The dress was a congratulatory gift, one Isidor wasn’t able to refuse politely or manage to avoid wearing at this first meeting.

So Isidor stands in her red, backless satin dress trying not to let the high slit show. This is meant to be her armour, but she feels exceptionally vulnerable with her deep red lips and loose braid that feel more like Runa’s style than hers. She stares out at the garden imagining what it would be like if Harrowheart appeared with a gryphon to whisk her away. She would aggressively flip off her ‘fiancé’ as they flew off, she decides with certainty. A thought that brings a small smirk to her face… Only for her mother to take it away with a pleased, “He’s here.”

Isidor takes a deep breath, lifts her chin proudly and turns around to level a piercing stare at this strange man. She manages, just about, but to her surprise he’s not… horrific looking. Blond, too. Are all Azerothians blond? No, she’d seen other hair colours on her daytrip to Stormwind. A soldier, by the looks of it, and armed. She almost smirks again: Maybe he’s as scared of her as he aught to be.

Her mother lifts her hand and leads her delicately to greet him. “Zandros, this is our daughter Isidor. Isidor, this is Zandros Alter.”

Without breaking eye contact, Isidor holds out her hand for a handshake.

Zandros
Zandros' perfectly peach-pink lips part at the sight of her. Introductions are mere formalities. This stunning mage in red could be none other than the woman he's dreamt of in the excitement of the nights preceding this moment that feels so unreal. More than merely acceptable, this woman is gorgeous.

"Isidor." Her name is a sigh of relief. Of reunion with someone he's never met before. Her mother brings her near and he can't help taking one step closer, bringing the moment of finally touching her that much sooner. She holds out her hand and he knows just what to do.

Zandros takes her hand in both of his and holds it with a delicate touch, palm to soft palm, fingers grazing her thumb. He buckles at the knees in a half kneel and brings the warmth of his lips and breath to the back of her hand.

The kiss is brief, but he remains low and looks up at her to say in Common, "Words cannot describe the way the sight of you seized my heart, Isidor. You're more of a beauty than I could have imagined. It is my honor to meet you."

Isidor
All hopes of a firm, business-like handshake are shattered as he takes her hand like a flower and bends to a kneel to kiss it gently. It startles her out of her glare and her eyes dart to the Archon, to her brother, and then back to Zandros looking mildly perturbed. It’s all she can do not to scoff at him about animated princesses… which he wouldn’t understand anyway. At least Viatorus has the courtesy to blush on his sister’s behalf and try to politely avert his gaze.

After a moment to gather herself she reclaims her hand and folds both her hands in front of her, keeping them close lest he try to demonstrate any more chivalry. “Your language is still new to me. You will have to be patient until I understand more.” Nothing is less romantic than setting out terms and conditions, right?

Zandros
Standing, Zandros inclines his head and with a restrained yet still so self-satisfied smile says, "Of course, Isidor, of course. Wise advice, truth be told. I've waited years to meet my wife, it wouldn't do to scare her off on our first afternoon together! I will keep my words simple. If I say something that you do not understand, however, you need only ask. After all, we ought to practice sharing our language with one another before we share our lives."

He laughs quietly and ducks his head shyly, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear as he does. "Of course, more pragmatically, I assume you will be our translator this evening? Light, but this is my first time in a room with the Durants without your knight. I thought something was missing." Another laugh, this one a little bolder.

Isidor
Scare her off? As if he could scare her off. Isidor shifts uncomfortably on the spot, struggling not to bristle or feel embarrassed when he talks about sharing their lives. It’s even harder not to let her expression change when he talks about ‘her knight’. Even though he must not know about them, it seems callous and comforting at the same time… She’s grateful when he gives her a topic to move onto. Her gaze snaps behind Zandros and she nods to her brother. “Viatorus, my brother and scholar, will help.”

Viatorus smiles when he’s brought into the conversation, but before he can say anything the Archon starts to speak. The siblings listen attentively until he turns expectantly to Viatorus. The young scholar clears his throat and looks between the two Alters, doing his best to sound clear and confident. “The Archon apologises. He has business to see to, but leaves you in Lieselotte’s care.”

With that shared, the Archon tips his head, bending at the waist, before turning and leaving them in the gentle sunshine. Lieselotte beams and gestures to the table. “Would you like some food and drink?” Viatorus translates for her. He does not, however, translate her wrangling Isidor to sit opposite her husband-to-be. “We have sandwiches and elderflower pressé. Later we might enjoy the good weather and take a walk.”

Zandros
The Archon's parting comes with respectful bows from the Alters. When they're straight again both of them have a smile for Lieselotte.

"Food and drink sounds lovely," Zandros says. Rather than seat himself immediately he pulls a chair out for Isidor and gestures (with a handsome smile accompanying!) for her to sit.

"I've never had an elder flower," he says to Viatorus. "Usually if we're going to eat them we pick them young." He's dead-ass serious about that, too, look at his straight face!

His mother takes her own seat, stopping her son from pulling out her chair in the process, and smiles at Isidor. "Isidor, dear," she begins, "Would you do us the honor of telling us a bit about yourself? Your hobbies, your passions?"

Isidor
Before she can even reach her seat Zandros is pulling it out for her. She stares at him for a prolonged moment, then sits with a slow, audible sigh through her nose. The manners leave her nothing to jab at, nothing to make a statement with or comment on. He’s being too perfect and it’s already starting to drive her insane.

Poor Viatorus takes Zandros’ words entirely to heart, blinking in surprise and left to gape as he struggles to find his words. Not that it matters. Mrs Alter already knows how she wants to direct the conversation which turns once more to Isidor as Lieselotte manually pours them all a drink.

The patron tries not to sigh again. Why do people keep asking her about this? Does she need to take up origami just to give people something to ask after? That’s when it occurs to her, this might be to her advantage. Nobody approves of her hyperfocused lifestyle. She tips her chin up and the ghost of a smile appears on her lips. “My work and my passions are the same. I love my work, and my hobbies make me better at what I do. I train my different skills, and I look at the work of other mages and scholars in magical fields.”

Zandros
Once Isidor is seated Zandros removes his sheathed rapier from the strap that holds it on his belt, then carefully offers it to Isidor.

"As long as we are together my blade does your bidding, Isidor," he explains in a soft and fully sincere tone.

Viatorus doesn't have to tell him where he ought to sit, because a well-bred man knows that it's most proper to place himself across from the lady of his affections so early in their relationship. He takes his proper seat across from her and just as he does he sees it... Isidor is smiling herself! Oh, what a treat! What joy!

Zandros keeps his fingertips on the edge of the table and smiles blindingly at Isidor's description of her own life. "How wonderful to know you enjoy what you do with such a passion! Light, you've got me so interested. What a relief to learn that me joining you in your work will be so fulfilling! I've always sought a true passion of my own, but so often I've been called instead to fulfill duty and fight for the greater good."

He nods respectfully at Lieselotte when she pours him a drink. Then, back to Isidor, "I've been told you can do fire magic. That's a talent that always commands respect. I look forward to the day I might see you cast."

Isidor
He’s giving her his weapon? Isidor’s eyes go wide and then settle a little narrower than they had been as she accepts it carefully. Suspicious as she is, she allows herself to be distracted by it while Zandros talks. It saves her from having to immerse herself in this surreal situation for a moment longer. Her fingers trace lines along the hilt and even though she tries to keep her expression neutral, it’s hard not to politely admire the weapon. That is, until she catches sight of her mother’s unwavering look. Isidor takes the cue to hang it on the back of her chair. That’s fine. She didn’t want to try it anyway. It’s too thin and flimsy, even if its weight says otherwise.

She turns her attention back to Zandros and… gods, he’s even more cheerful now. Her lip twitches, betraying her irritation for a split second. “Durants are not street… mages. Street… Our skills are not to put on a show.” Eager to skip over her inability to find the correct word and needing to rephrase, she frowns at Zandros, confused. “Joining me? Won’t you be working on Azeroth?”

Zandros
"Street... Performers?" For a moment there Zandros looks aghast. Embarrassed, he leans in and hurriedly clarifies, "Light, I'm sorry if my tone implied that! No, no, all due respect was truly meant, Isidor! Allow me to rephrase: Because I understand the grace and skill of an accomplished fire mage I look forward to the day I am finally given the privilege of seeing your power."

Then, eager for a change of subject, he weaves his fingers together and places his hands once more on the table. "I intend to live on Earth with you Isidor. Our families have discussed it, and we are prepared for me to retire from my position as a knight-commander in the Stormwind Army immediately. I will join you here on your world and become your full-time patron, as you call it. I will be with you as your partner not only in our private life, but in business as well. Though," he laughs lightly, "When it comes to the politics of your world I suspect I will have much to learn before I could be considered a help rather than a hindrance."

Isidor
Everything he says is perfect, the perfect response. Respectful, compassionate, dignified. She wonders how easy it was for him to learn these skills. Did he have to practice before he came here today? There’s no time to think about it for too long, though. No, she’s found something to pry this union apart with, no matter how small it is, she has to use it. So she allows her frown to slip past her carefully formed facade and her lips to press in an uneasy acceptance of his explanation.

She doesn’t join him in laughing. Instead she raises a single eyebrow. Further along the table Viatorus relays the conversation to their mother in hushed and hurried words. “So you will have no position on your world?”

Viatorus stumbles in his translation, but Isidor keeps her eyes fixed on Zandros.

Zandros
"I suppose you're right," he says, his laugh and smile both as good-natured as ever. Zandros gestures vaguely before he sits back in his seat and reaches for his drink. "Without the prestige of the Stormwind Army, I will return to simply being Zandros Alter."

He takes a sip of the pressé and flashes a smile to Lieselotte. He lifts his cup and inclines his head. It's quite good! Another taste and he returns to the conversation.

"I will become once more merely a hero of the war on the Lich King, an ally to dragons, one of the sole human practitioners of a rare and dying magic... And the wife of a stunning woman who, I'm told, has a staggering business acumen."

It would be gauche to punctuate that all with a sip of his cup, Zandros knows that. His mother, however, is free to sample her own drink.

Isidor
Isidor isn’t quite willing to accept her polite chiding, but once Viatorus catches her up, Lieselotte shares a few words with her daughter through a smile. The patron looks to her mother, calmly replies, and then turns back to Zandros.

“My mother thinks I was being rude, but I want us to be straight with each other,” she says. “All I have seen of Azeroth and its people tells me that you are used to… big shows and bigger actions. Heroes and monsters. It isn’t like that here. Your world is colourful, my world is…” What’s the word? “… quiet.” Her gaze becomes sceptical then. “Can you be happy with that? You are a knight-commander. You travel, fight, see your world and all its people. My life is politics, business, research and hard work. I think you will be bored.”

Zandros
"I'm not sure I can properly express the relief that a little quiet would bring me," Zandros says. "My mother and father were raised in a quiet world of peace, but all my life Azeroth has only known death and destruction. But I am tired of death. Exhausted, frankly. Tensions now are as high as they've been in years. There is no sign of rest. I've been away fighting wars since I was eighteen, Miss Durant, and it has deprived me of the experiences of love and family life and true joy."

He pauses for a moment and looks down at his folded hands.

"I already know the pain of losing my love to the conflict between 'heroes and monsters.' I can't imagine experiencing that again."

He looks up once more, his eyes quietly pleading. "There is no need for either of us to confront darkness or risk our lives in pointless battles at the whims of capricious rulers. More than anything I want that life of business, of research, of quiet and safety. I look desperately forward to the days when my excitement comes merely from ball rooms and stories and the achievements of our children."

Isidor
There is a difference between words and truth, and Isidor isn’t entirely convinced. Although his answers are perfect, polite, and silently rise to her challenge, highlighting her questionable degree of etiquette. This time Isidor has to concede her position a little with a glance to her brother and then back to Zandros. “You will change your whole life. Everything will be strange, foreign. Don’t you think you will feel lost?”

Zandros
"Never," is his immediately response. He sits straight and his overtly charming smile turns softer, calm. "Because I'll have my wife at my side to guide me."

A few seconds pass and he delicately laughs. "And her wonderful family, of course! Lieselotte has been a wonderful hostess thus far. The Archon is wise, I can tell. And... Light, your brother! I've hardly spoken a word to you, how incredibly rude of me."

Zandros gestures toward Viatorus and rolls his wrist. "Tell me a bit about yourself, if you would?"

Isidor
Zandros turns the conversation onto Viatorus and the scholar stiffens in his seat. He hesitates and then looks to Isidor. This is usually the part where she interrupts and paints the image of a venerable Durant mage. Except… this time she doesn’t. This time she’s looking off to the side, deep in thought and he’s not able to catch her eye at all. He’s alone for this one.

“I am a dreamwalker,” he says slowly, half hoping Isidor will rejoin the conversation and take over. When she doesn’t, Viatorus takes a deep breath and tries to smile for Zandros and Mrs. Alter. “I do dream magic. I-I do more than dream magic, but dream magic is what I research. I am engaged, too…”

Lieselotte asks Viatorus a question and afterwards she smiles broadly, proudly and nods, talking enthusiastically for Viatorus to embarrassedly translate. “The wedding will be this year, in a month’s time. She says you must come. You will be able to meet your new family and see what a Durant wedding is like.”

Zandros
Dream magic. Zandros' practiced smile doesn't waver, but there's a glassiness to his eyes now. Dream magic. How very...

"A wedding! And so soon! Light, congratulations, my good man! I will certainly have to attend! It's been too long since I've been to a proper party, and for such a wonderful occasion! Of course, I'll have to meet your fiancée first. I assume she and Isidor are quite close? I look forward to meeting her friends, after all."

Isidor
“Runa- My fiancée is friends with everyone. She’s very nice.” The other man’s enthusiasm bolsters Viatorus’ own briefly and the scholar smiles, shuffling forward in his seat. “What are weddings like on Azeroth?”

Zandros
"My, there are different sorts of weddings for every sort of people. Often there are vows, generally there is feasting, but every wedding I've ever been to has always had good drink. Most weddings are happy occasions, non-violent, filled with dancing and games. Humans honor their families and friends and, if we believe, give thanks to the Light for guiding the sparks of two souls together as one. Excuse me if the topic is gauche for a first meeting, but I will admit that my first marriage was quite the religious affair. Catherine, my then-wife, was a devout believer, and in fact was the one who inspired me to become a paladin myself."

Zandros holds an open palm out to Viatorus, then to Isidor, on whom his attention lingers. He asks, "As for yourselves? Does religion play a part in your marriages? I'm told you worship gods. Is that really so? I assume you must ask their favor? I will admit my ignorance of god-worship, to say nothing of my ignorance of Earth's culture."

Isidor
Lieselotte seems especially pleased by this particular topic, smiling and nodding her agreement as Viatorus tells her what Zandros is saying. He’s still passing on Zandros’ questions while the paladin waits for a response, which is enough to pull Isidor back into the conversation.

“Our family is… connected to the goddess Despoina. We serve her. Many of her priests and priestesses come from our family. We ask for her… favour when we agree on a marriage, and invite her to the ceremony.” Isidor pauses, wondering how Zandros will react when he sees the rituals involved in Viatorus’ marriage. Then she meets his gaze pointedly. “Gods are very important to us. They protect us, and they teach us.”

All caught up, Viatorus and Lieselotte collaborate in adding, “Yes, our marriages are very religious. All our big ceremonies have a religious side and a… a… an earthly side. Gods and law, or offerings to people and gods. Marriages are very big parties. Some last for days.”

Zandros
Quite a lot to absorb here, both for Zandros and his mother. The Durants take their gods more seriously than they had previous assumed, it seems. Zandros reaches for a small sandwich and his mother tries her elderflower pressé again. Each of them has more to consider here.

Lady Alter pipes up first, eager to seize onto something she does understand. "Days! Oh, wonderful! I was hoping Zandros wouldn't mention, but the best parties we've ever been to are the ones that last days. One for religion, one for feasting, and one for the hangover!" She laughs quietly and smiles at Lieselotte. She must understand! Once it's been translated...

Zandros, though, tries to bridge the gap which has suddenly widened between himself and his future fiancée. "Have you ever visited Azeroth, Isidor? I know you speak our language, but have you ever experienced our world?"

Isidor
Viatorus’ eyes widen with lady Alter’s enthusiasm. “What a good idea!”

When he relays the thoughts to his mother who is also enjoying a sandwich, she beams. “We might make Isidor and Zandros’ party be days long. We will have to discuss plans together. One on Azeroth and one on Earth would be good. We don’t want anyone being left out.”

Isidor’s eyes slide from where her marriage is being planned to the man she’s meant to marry. “I have.” She takes a sandwich of her own before realising that at least this is something she doesn’t mind talking about. “Harrowheart took me to Stormwind. He showed me everything. He showed me all the people, the market, the garden, the cathedral…” Her brow furrows briefly but it’s smoothed out when she looks at Zandros again. “Harrowheart was kind. Other people there… were not.”

Zandros
"A wonderful concept, Lieselotte!" exclaims Lady Alter, bubblier than ever now. "You know, it had crossed my mind, but to hear you say it aloud first only assures me that it would be be simply perfect. Soon enough you and I shall have to find a shared language -- or a very good enchantment! -- so that we can spend our afternoons planning for our futures... And our future parties."

Beside her, her son's smile is one decidedly less eager, though nonetheless pleasant. With a little laugh he explains, "It may have seemed that way, but remember that you were in a city, Isidor. An urban lifestyle has a tendency to turn even the most compassionate of spirit hard... As does the sight of the undead. I suspect that you might have a decidedly more enjoyable time with a living man at your side. We shall have to take a day trip to Stormwind soon, you and I. Before the autumn weather sets in at the very least. Though I imagine that will be simple enough matter; my family's main manor sits in the hills just above the city. An invitation to yourself and your family is always extended, of course."

Isidor
“I speak four languages. Learning another should not be too difficult.” Lieselotte says with the help of her son, laughing easily afterwards. “You will have to tell me all about the traditions and styles of your world.”

A living man at her side. She’s starting to understand how Harrowheart feels. As if anyone with a beating heart could replace him and improve her life. Eating a sandwich triangle buys her some time, but it’s soon gone and once she’s finished she looks him in the eye again. “Does the sight of undead turn your compassion hard?”

Zandros
Zandros smiles softly at Isidor's question.

"Four! My, how talented!" Lady Alter exclaims, fully honest with how impressed she is. "As a girl I learned some Thalassian – the language of the high elves – but I'm afraid I've forgotten much of it. There simply aren't enough elves left with which to practice! And in all honesty as a girl I preferred lessons on the harp to linguistics. Most people in our kingdom speak Common, which is my convenient excuse." She laughs lightly and fans her face with her hand to dismiss her own slight embarrassment. "Much of the Alliance's culture is dictated by humans these days, you see. Other races are so long-lived and have so few children, and with the dreadful wars ongoing their numbers have decreased drastically. I shall have to take you to our countryside villas so that you might see some real traditions outside of the city – the dance, the food, the dress!" She sighs, and doing so quickly quiets her excitement. More than anything she's curious now and sits straight-backed with folded hands to ask Lieselotte, "Now, tell me dear: I've heard your world is almost entirely human, and always has been. Is that really so?"

Zandros closes his eyes and shakes his head lightly. "How could it?" he asks, his voice quieter now than before. "I've seen how they suffer. I know how they struggle. It is my duty as a paladin and a vessel of the Light to be a pillar of compassion always. I could never despise the undead. On the contrary, I sympathize with their pain and pity their misfortune. I imagine you and your family must feel similarly, to welcome one of them into your lives?"

Isidor
Lieselotte is happy to smile and nod along while Lady Alter talks. Viatorus needs time to translate, but her enthusiasm transcends the language barrier with ease. “It has. There used to be more of other races, but there have always been less than humans. The ‘Fae’ are the only ones who could equal humans. Most humans don’t know magic or magical races exist. Your world, with all its races and magic, is beautiful and very interesting to see.”

It’s once he’s finished translating this that Lieselotte asks Viatorus what Isidor and Zandros are speaking of. The answer prompts her to turn to her daughter and share a few words before returning to her conversation with Lady Alter.

Isidor inhales deeply and exhales slowly as she returns her attention to Zandros. So the undead are too grim a topic, are they? So she’s supposed to ask about Zandros? What is she meant to ask a man she doesn’t want to know? “You’re a… ‘paladin’. You talk about the Light so much. Are you a kind of priest?” Her expression becomes suspicious. “Do you… lead… religious rituals?”

Zandros
Isidor's question surprises Zandros, who parts his lips and raises his eyebrows. Once it occurs to him that she's fully serious he allows himself a small, good-natured little chuckle. "The first paladins once were priests. Now we are a knight order. I do not lead religious rituals, but I've sat through enough of them that I'm sure I could." His delicate laugh is like the ringing of a bell. "I've done funerary rites in the field, but that's about the extent of it. Generally I am a soldier, a shield-bearer specifically. First and foremost I protect the innocent from the forces of darkness. And... Over time I have learned to use the Light to do magic we refer to as 'spell breaking.' I can disrupt other casters' flow of magic to stop their spells at their source."

He opens his palm and eagerly asks, "And yourself? Is there something other than fire magic that you do? Arcane, frost?"

Lady Alter is intrigued by what Viatorus tells her. "And these 'Fae,' what are they like?"

Isidor
Suspicion settles into a frown. It all sounds very… promising, powerful. Not an overbearing priest, but a spiritual soldier. Isidor silently curses her parents’ good choice. This is making it hard to hate him, and hating him would make keeping him out of her life so much easier. “Arcane, and… I can… make things… go away.”

“‘Banishment’,” Viatorus interrupts helpfully. “The word is ‘banishment’.”

Isidor’s mouth tugs upwards in a small grateful twitch and turns back to Zandros. “I do banishment magic, and earth magic.”

Lieselotte stops to think about her answer for this one. When she does reply she does so slowly, which helps her son translate a bit. “Fae are like elves, but less human. They live in their own world that is connected to this one. Their laws are strange and have a deep connection to nature. Sometimes they help humans, sometimes they hurt them. This family tries to avoid them, and Fae seem to avoid us. It is better, and safer, this way.”

Zandros
"Their own world?" Lady Alter whispers, at once a question and a fleeting idea. "They do sound like elves," she eventually decides, though not in full confidence. "Still, I appreciate your family's apprehension. It is said that knowledge brings power, but at the risk of sounding Gilnean, I believe there are times when distance and unfamiliarity bring safety."

She pauses just in time for Viatorus to assist his sister, then beams at what he says. "What a vocabulary you have, young man! You live up to your title as 'scholar' indeed!"

Zandros glances toward Isidor's brother. "Quite. But of course it would be my honor to assist your sister next time." He shines his charming smile at Viatorus before he returns his attention to Isidor.

"Now, I assume the banishments were a necessity to fulfill your role as a 'patron,' but earth magic, Light... How incredibly exotic! Tell me, Isidor, was this something you were born capable of? A gift from your gods? Or did you choose it yourself? Of course, that school of magic would be incredibly rare among humans of Azeroth – if we are capable of it at all."

Isidor
“Being safe is important, and Fae can bring with them a lot of danger that could easily bring great trouble to a family. Even a family of mages,” Lieselotte agrees with a few serious nods.

Lady Alter’s compliment and then Zandros’ gentle disapproval both encourage Viatorus’ blush. He nods and turns his attention back to the two older women, with a couple of glances to Isidor.

The patron gives her brother a fleeting smile before she turns to Zandros again. “Earth, air, water and fire magic are simple for mages like us. They are an easy place to start learning. They are easy to talk about and show. Fire came to me naturally, and then earth when I tried to use it. I can so some air and water magic but Viatorus is much better at those than me.” She takes her glass and sits back, sipping at the pressé. “Are humans on your world not able to do much magic?”

Zandros
"Culture has dictated that most humans on Azeroth pursue only ice magic. For hundreds of years it was generally considered the only acceptable form of magic for a human to do: Fire is chaotic, and the arcane has a tendency not only to warp the mind but also to draw the attention of demons. Ice was thought to be level-headed, logical, and safe. There was always the Light, of course, but it is so much more than simply magic. And unlike yourselves, we are generally not a people closely connected to nature or the other elements. The Shadow was, of course, forbidden outright. It was only a few years ago that Shadow magic was not a punishable offense, in fact. After Northrend the king conceded that generally all forms of magic should be allowed by members of the Alliance, if performed only by the proper professionals and posing no risk to others."

Lady Alter peeps, "Of course, legality and morality do not always go hand in hand. But such matters are rather not polite for a pleasant lunch, Zandros."

He quietly laughs and ducks his head, and again has to tuck a curl of hair behind his ear. "Of course, excuse my overly academic discussion. I suppose my mind does wander when my body stays still. Perhaps we ought to take that walk you offered, Lieselotte? A bit of fresh summer air might do us all good."

Isidor
This much information on magic in Azeroth piques the interest of all three Durants, but while Lieselotte and Viatorus look actively interested, Isidor periodically focuses on her drink or sandwich. Anything she can do to give her some distance, she’ll do. Even if it’s just avoiding eye contact.

Zandros suggests going on a walk and Isidor opens her mouth to say something, but before she gets a chance her mother interjects. Viatorus echoes her exuberance. “That is a very good idea.”

As Lieselotte moves to get up Isidor hastily says something to her, but Lieselotte smiles as she replies and stands which prompts Viatorus to follow. Whatever was said, it’s not hard to tell that Isidor didn’t get the response she was looking for. Somewhat reluctantly, she sets down her glass and gets to her feet. After some more instruction from her mother, Isidor purses her lips and then starts walking. As she passes him, Zandros gets a simple, “This way.”

Zandros
This whole mysterious exchange doesn't throw Zandros off. On the contrary, when it's time to stand and leave he offers his elbow to Isidor so that she might guide him hand-in-arm where they ought to be. He's not quick enough, however, and Isidor is gone as quickly as she can be, a strike of lightning in the shape of a woman.

It takes long strides to catch up with her, but soon Zandros and his noisy boots have clatter-clacked their way to her side. "My," he says with a breathless laugh, "You walk with such determination! You're every bit the fire mage I suspected you might be!"

Very soon, however, he finds that he's running out of pleasantries to fill the void with. He falls anxiously silent as he waits for her to speak and never once takes his eyes off of her.

Isidor
Making him half-jog to catch up is somewhat satisfying so she doesn’t slow down until he’s caught up and matched her pace. His compliment earns him a glance, but little else. She would be quite happy to continue in silence if she couldn’t feel him staring. The main path takes them down a long straight line, interrupted by a large fountain. It’s at this point she sighs and relents.

“The gardens were made for the first owner, and then made again seventy years ago. The new garden has several parts. The part we’re in now makes use of the great space to give us a large, natural view.” It’s easier to relay the useless information of the estate in any of her native languages, but this will have to do. It fills the silence with something she would as easily share to a visiting dignitary.

Zandros
The words that finally pass Isidor's beautiful lips immediately thaw Zandros' anxious tension. But... What he quickly assumes will be a conversation about herself turns, rather disappointingly, to emotionally distant discussions of the manor.

"Interesting," he says in a rush, "But not as interesting as I am sure you are. You must be a woman of great humility and proper upbringing to rightly share conversation on topics other than yourself, but believe me, you truly are the only thing I want to know about. Allow yourself to introduce yourself to me, Ms. Durant. Tell me: Were I not here today, what would you fill your day with?"

Isidor
The initial enthusiasm that comes with his first word gives the impression that perhaps she’ll be able to stall him with conversation about gardens and architecture. Some hidden, boring interest of his. Instead he swiftly turns it back to her. At least he asks about her daytime activities and not her feelings. That’s a little easier to talk about, and a lot less interesting. Nobody wants to hear about business management. She sees her chance, and she takes it.

“I would be working. Even when I not at work people look for me to talk about problems at work. Even when I am at work I need to make sure Viatorus is safe, happy and has everything he needs or wants. I manage the money of my business, my brother and myself. More importantly I make sure the right people are in the right place. My brother has a guard, his future wife has a guard, and my business needs the right people in the right place. Everyone who works there has to know their job, the business they are working for, and the people we serve.”

Zandros
And she's finally done it. Isidor has finally staggered her opponent. Zandros parts his lips but finds no words; tilts his head, but still none come; breathes a laugh heavy with worry and without a single shred of humor... And still he isn't quite sure what to say.

"My," he finally exhales as his senses come back to him. "Such passion for one's work would not be out of place in Gadgetzan."

He quickly falls silent. With his hands folded neatly before him he follows alongside Isidor, back straight and eyes forward, ever the picture of a patient gentleman but for the tilt of his brows. This woman's personality is, perhaps... Worrisome.

It's quite some time before he turns to her and with a smile half-heartedly offers, "Perhaps you and I shall learn to enjoy life's small idle pleasures together, Isidor." An unconfident hypothesis to say the least.

Isidor
What's this? A pause in his boundless enthusiasm? Her heart fits in an extra, triumphant beat as she checks his expression to confirm her hopes. She's finally found something to put him off.

Isidor watches him for a minute and then turns back to the path ahead. "I told you, you'll be bored. You have travelled your world and I am sure you have seen many great things. To leave it all for a grey building and books full of numbers every day and every night..." Her gaze slides over to him again. "Are you sure you want that life?"

Zandros
A moment's hesitation suggests what cannot be said. In short order he composes himself and, looking around at the sight of the mansion rather than his bride to be, he asks, "What sort of man would I be if I were to choose travel over family? It is past my time to become the husband and father I must be. As I told your family, a life away from adventure would be not only my honor, but also a relief. My spirit is weary of fighting. Now I am ready to love and to live as a good man ought to."

He turns to her then and quietly adds, "As I am sure you are as well. Both of us have earned some respite from work to experience the joys of love and parenthood."

The next few strides he makes beside her are silent, filled only by the sound of his hard leather soles. That is, until something occurs to him. Once more he returns his attention to Isidor and says, "But allow me to prove that there can still be safe and pleasant adventure in a life spent together. Give me some small quest, Isidor. Something I can do to prove my dedication to you – and that I am not merely a coward seeking to retreat from the field of battle in the comforts of married life."

Isidor
The sneer of disgust is difficult to disguise, but she tries anyway. Does he really think she's going to focus on the 'joys of parenthood' like a 'good woman'? Gods she wants to slap him...

That is, until he asks for a way to prove himself. Begging for a quest to help him deny desiring adventure. She almost calls him out on his hypocrisy. Almost. But this is too good of an opportunity to turn down.

"You want to prove you can be happy with this life? That you won't want to leave for something more exciting?" Isidor looks him up and down, a grin curling her lips. "I know just what you can do."

✣ · ✣ · ✣ · ✣

The 'Quest'