Qabian's Mistress by Lascisvious

[Keeper Of Lore]

Lascivious rode Sam down the ramp outside the Silvermoon palace and around the fountain. Her eyes were focused straight ahead with purpose and it was only mere chance – a brief flicker of her warrior instinct – that made her notice the orc sitting on the bench near the fountain.

Physically she was not that extraordinary from any other orc female she had seen. But there was an oddity about her beside the fact Lascivious very rarely saw orcs in Silvermoon. She was dressed in old caster robes and bearing a large axe.

She turned Sam and moved closer to the warrior unbuckling her helm and hanging it on the horn of her saddle.

“Nice axe.”

“What of it?”

Lascivious smiled dryly. “Nothing. It’s not often I see one dressed like you and wielding it. Don’t get me wrong I would still not want to be struck in the face with it.”

The orc smiled at her. “I am warrior by trade.”

“Ah. I thought I knew all orc warriors of note in Thrall’s service. Particularly the females.”

“I am not in Thrall’s service but I take your meaning.”

“I am Lascivious, Mistress of the Grim and guardian of the Mandate. But as a sister in arms you would honor me should you call me Las. There are too few of us taking up the trade these days.”

“Yes, that is true. I am Tamora. Does the title of Mistress carry some weight with the Grim?”

Lascivious nodded. “I am the guardian of the Mandate and servant to its cause. I suppose most would refer to me as the Grim’s leader, though I don’t think of it that way.”

“I have had issue with one of your kind.”

“Oh? I heard there was an altercation at the ball, but heard only it involved those of Sanctuary.”

“No. I refer to the one called Qabian.”

“Ah. What has the wizard done?”

“He insulted my taste in lovers. Effectively insulting the both of us and for no apparent reason.”

Lascivious’ eyes narrowed. “Did he now?” She reached her hand into her satchel and gripped her stone.

“Qabian. Come to Silvermoon City. I will speak to you.”

“What?”

“What use are such large ears if they do not allow you to hear?”

“I am on my way Mistress.”

Lascivious gazed at some point above Tamora’s head at the water rising and falling palace. She was furious. Love was a rare commodity in this world and she remembered. She remembered how she was treated because those around her did not agree with her choice of lovers.

Harmony winced as the strap stung her backside.

“How many times?!” her mother asked.

The strap struck her again.

“How many times will you disobey me?”

Again the leather bit into her, but she refused to cry out. Instead she bit her lip until it bled. She would not cry out. Her mother dropped the strap and pulled Harmony from over her knees to a standing position. She struggled to get free of the woman’s grasp.

“Don’t you understand? Sammuel is your brother! You cannot behave this way! It will get you into trouble with the elders! Your name is already less than virtuous among the boys, you lascivious beast! You will stop this behavior at once! I don’t want anything bad to happen to you!”

With strength belying her little frame Harmony wiggled out of her mother’s grasp and ran out the door. She ignored her mother’s calls to return to the house running down the trodden path toward the river and the waterfall where her father weeks earlier had plunged to his demise. Crawling among the rocks she sat behind the falling water the sound of her tears lost in the falling of the water.

Why didn’t they understand? She was in love. There was nothing wrong with it. Breck had told her so. She loved Sammuel. She had seen how the other girls were around him. They all wanted him. Breck was right. It was the way to his heart. He said she was almost done training.

She rooted around behind some rocks and found a small satchel she had hidden there. Inside it was some grain she had taken from the shed. After the grain had been delivered it didn’t take the villagers long to realize it was tainted. It was locked away where no animals could get it. But Harmony knew that first night – although she had only eaten a little – the strength she could get from it. So she had stolen the key and filled her satchel and hid it down here behind the rocks before locking the shed again and returning the key to its rightful place unnoticed.

The food had tasted strange and the straight grain was no better. But she had gotten used to it and as her strength grew so did her taste for it. She reached into the satchel and brought a handful to her mouth, licking her fingers clean of every last dusty seed.

Soon. Very soon Sammuel and she would be together and they would leave this place and no one would keep them apart.

Lascivious’ ears were filled with the sound of falling water and at first she did not hear the orc’s question. She blinked.

“I am sorry?”

“I was asking, what is your Mandate.”

“Ah. It is what guides our purpose and empowers me as guardian,” the Foresaken explained. “We are many races, with many beliefs and attitudes, but in the end we are bound together by the Mandate and we fight for the Grim standing on either side of us. There is no other way if we wish to survive.”

“Ah, your reputation is…”

Lascivious interrupted her with a laugh then shrugged. “As I said there are all manner of creatures in the Grim. Many are like Qabian, but when he is needed he is worthy of being by my – or anyone’s - side. Ha, speaking of the wizard.”

Qabian came striding purposely toward his mistress, smirking at the orc as he stopped. Tamora looked at him without expression.

“Wizard,” Lascivious dismounted and looked at the Sin’dorei. “Is it true you insulted this orc and her lover?”

He blinked. “I merely spoke the truth of my feelings, mistress.”

The undead’s eyes flared. “Do you know how hard I have worked to gain Thrall’s favor? While your people sat here behind their pretty walls licking their wounds, I was buying honor for the Grim with the blood of Alliance. Thrall himself has decreed me a hero for all Orgrimmar to hear for my negotiations with the Timbermaw. I will not have it all undone so you can feed your Sin’dorei arrogance.

“Apologize to her.”

Qabian pressed his lips tightly together. “I… did not realize such a thing was important to you. I will reconsider my words next time.”

“Thank you, wizard. I appreciate that.” Lascivious looked at him expectantly. When it was evident he had nothing else to say she spoke again. “Qabian. That was not sufficient.”

The Sin’dorei wizard cleared his face of emotion and looked at the orc. “If my words were offensive than… I… apologize. Perhaps next time you will not loiter so in public streets.”

“There now,” Lascivious spoke peering at the mage. “That must not have been so bad. Your head did not explode.”

Qabian shot Lascivious a murderous glare, but she paid him no mind.

“I accept your apology, mage,” Tamora told him. “But only because the pleasure I incur from receiving it is from knowing it was forced from your lips.”

“That is all, wizard. You may go.”

Qabian nodded curtly, summoning his beast and spurring it away.

Lascivious nodded to the orc and summoned her own mount.

“I meant what I said. We are sisters in arms. If you have need of me I will assist if able.”

Tamora offered the Forsaken a small smile and nod. “Thank you, Las.”

Lascivious grinned and kicked her Sam into action.


The hour was late and Lascivious was returning from her ritual of cleaning the Dark Lady’s home of the spirits and ghosts which seemed to haunt the place daily. There was little activity in Silvermoon at this time of night, but she saw a small circle of people hovering about the entrance to the inn. The large troll she recognized immediately as Jabiba. As she came closer she made out Qabian standing in the corner and a female she did not recognize.

She brought Sam to a halt.

“Hello, Jabiba.”

“Hey der, Mistress. Jabiba joost be leavin’.” With a wave and a shrug he called his mount and trotted off into the night.

“Hello,” said the Sin’dorei. “I am Evanthe.”

Lascivious nodded to her in greeting. “I am Lascivious, Mistress of the Grim and guardian of the Mandate.”

“Ah. That is Malorii.”

“Who?”

Evanthe pointed down at the ground and Lascivious leaned over to look. Sam was standing on what appeared to be a dead leprous gnome.

“Oh.” Lascivious reined Sam back so he wasn’t standing on the gnome who groaned when she moved, proving it was still alive. “Sorry. I didn’t see you there.”

“I would still have words with you, Mistress, about yesterday.” Qabian stepped forward frowning at the Foresaken.

Lascivious nodded. “Very well, walk with me.”

The mage summoned his mount and together they left the city. Just outside the gates Lascivious pulled her mount off the road to a small mound overlooking the pond across from the flight master. The warrior walked to the edge of the outcropping looking into the distance, her back to the mage.

“Do you remember what I told you, wizard, before you joined us.”

“Yes. You said many things.”

“Hmm. I told you I would have your prince’s head for betraying my queen’s people. I wonder, now that we have entered his halls, what your feelings are on this matter.”

Qabian took a moment to form his words. “I am angered my prince has betrayed us and at the fool Scyers who betrayed him. There seems to be a circle of betrayal.”

“A disturbing Sin’dorei trait.”

“Name one race which has not had elements turn on itself,” he replied stiffly.

Lascivious nodded. “Unfortunately this is true.” She looked off into the distance as if she were staring into another time and place.

Qabian cleared his throat. “Mistress, about yesterday.”

“Hmm?” She turned her head and looked at him from over her shoulder. “Are you still upset about the orc? You are a Dreadweaver of the Grim. You are my voice and as such you represent me. I was dissatisfied with the way you chose to do so.”

“What was I to do? Not speak the truth of my feelings to those fools? What would you have done?”

“I would have said nothing. It was not worth it.”

The mage clenched his teeth for a moment. “I hardly see what the purpose of humiliating me was.”

“Dear, wizard. One of your kind should know the value of a demonstration of power,” she chided mildly. “For that was its purpose. You know now without doubt what I will do to ensure my will is unquestioned. The orc now knows without doubt my will is unquestioned.”

“I know. But this… it cut so deep.”

Lascivious turned toward Qabian, her face softening but her words firm. “I know my friend. It would have meant nothing if it had it not.”

“What is this orc to you?”

“She is a fellow warrior and so has my respect until she does something to lose it. She also follows no banner which means, if we can avoid insulting her further, she may one day find her way to our door.”

“That cannot be wise. Her lover is a member of Sanctuary.”

“Is he now?” Lascivious asked her interest peaked.

“She. I saw her tabard. Surely if the orc joined us anything her lover learned from her would be passed to Vilmah.”

Lascivious blinked for a moment then grinned wickedly. “Perhaps we can find some advantage in this. I will seek her out again. While these are matters to think about, they are not in our control at present and not so important. What is important is that we have an understanding. Do we?”

Qabian nodded once. “We do.”

Lascivious approached the mage. Her face took on a child-like expression, much how it must have looked in life. More than a foot shorter than he her head came only to his chest. She wrapped her strong arms around him and placed her cheek against his chest listening to his living heart beat.

“Are you sure Qabian?” Her voice was small and vulnerable. “So many close to me have betrayed me recently. I do not think I could bear losing you as well.”

“My loyalty lies with you and the Mandate, Mistress.”

She looked into his eyes grinning girlishly then put her arms around his neck and pulled his head down until her cheek brushed against his, her lips touching his ear. Her voice changed tone becoming deeper and more womanly. Her whisper was barely audible even to him.

“I accept your word, wizard.” She pulled her head back, running her lips down his cheek until they found his. She covered his mouth firmly with her own letting her tongue and lips seal their bargain.

The Blood Elf’s body tensed and after a moment he placed his hands on her shoulders pushing her just enough to separate her lips from his. “But,” he told her. “No more apologizing.”

“Agreed,” Lascivious said with a smile and when she spoke her lips grazed his with every word. “I will hold you to your word, just as I expect you to hold me to mine.”

She slowly released him then waved a dismissing hand. “Leave me, wizard. I have much to ponder.”

Qabian offered a short bow and withdrew leaving the Foresaken to her thoughts.

[Keeper Of Lore]

by Qabian

((I was wondering if you would put this here. And that's not the original title, although I guess it suits, heh. My what? *cough* Since everyone remembers things a little bit differently...))

"She is as important as Thrall to you, now? If I had known that at thetime... Fine. She can have my apologies, for all that they are worthbeing forced from me so."

The moment Qabian muttered the words, he regretted them. He had toapologize to himself for saying them. With the circle of betrayalsbecoming only more evident, if there was one thing he had no time for,it was regret.

It wasn't that he was beyond making mistakes, and if he had had theforesight to realize the results of his words, he certainly would haveused more discretion, but apology was a sign of regret, and he wasdetermined to have no such thing. The mistakes he made were vital togrowing into the true superiority he was so certain he would one dayachieve. He would take his mistakes, admit responsibility for them, andlearn from them, but he would never ever apologize.

Perhaps that was not so easy for others to understand. PerhapsLascivious did not realize that she had effectively gutted him before astranger, a stranger who did happen to have terrible taste, about whomhe had spoken the truth he felt. For a race known for their deception,Qabian had developed a certain preference for brutal truth. It oftenhad a sting to it that went beyond any lie. To be forced to sugarcoathis truths against his will was like holding quinine on his tongue.

Or perhaps Lascivious knew exactly what she had done. If that were so,action would need to be taken. But he doubted she understood thedegree. To remind one of one's place was one thing. To tear someone'spride away from them entirely was slightly different.

Having prior commitments, and both he and the Mistress pressed fortime, he wasn't given the opportunity to force the issue in his favor.He had to finish the matter and get out. That was perhaps the mostdisappointing thing about the event. He was forced to give in, not byhis own insufficiency, but by being chained down by the constraints oftime.

There would need to be words. If Lascivious wanted to ensure he stayed where he was, nothing like this could ever happen again.

~~~

She said enough. She reassured him that her intentions had gone beyondhis humiliation, that the situation could be directed in a way in whichhe might eventually approve. Unfortunately, he was not exactly in aposition to demand an apology from her in return, not that he wouldhave asked for one. He had more respect for her than that.

When she threw her arms around him for the second time in as many days,and made her plea for his loyalty, he was expecting it. She was theMistress. He supposed if anyone could get away with an embrace, shecould.

"I have no intentions whatsoever of betraying you or your Mandate."

He smirked to himself, leaving off one small qualifier. 'Yet.' It was not a lie. It was merely an incomplete thought.

But her mouth on his as he was dwelling on his own internalself-satisfaction was certainly not expected. Due to long years oftraining, his immediate reaction was one of magic, now one of fire, but he quelled it.'Respect. Respect. This is just her way.' He flinched bodily, but hergrip was not particularly weak.

His mind raced. 'Do I push her? Do I reproach her? Do I have enoughvalue to the Grim to start a fight over this? She is who she is.Certainly, she'd only find humor in a more austere reaction and use itto demean me further.' Ultimately, he decided he didn't care. He wasnot so protective of his person that he couldn't let her touch him ifthat's what she wanted, as long as...

"However, there will be no more apologies."