Some Answers, and None at All

Kezrin closed her eyes against the mottled patterns of light shining through leaves and branches, slowing her breathing and concentrating on the feel of the soft grass beneath her and the warm, moist air.. She had spent some time tentatively poking around the large Quelthorin estate, but ever since she found the hothouse, it had become her favorite place to simply relax.

Nearby, a rose bush scented the air. It wasn't the same strand as those cultivated by her mother (it would have been extreme unlikely to find that in Eversong) but it and the tropical warmth were close enough to trigger a wave of homesickness. Still, she felt more comfortable enjoying the solitude of the garden than roaming Solendenus's house.

(And oh, light, did she never want to accidentally run into his mother.)



Though, it wasn't that lonely. The earth felt alive beneath her. She'd become more aware of the sensation ever since befriending Grit. Even when he wasn't around, she had a feeling that other elementals like him were lurking. She absently wondered if that was what Vi'ta had meant when she asked if Kezrin could sense the earth.

Solendenus was teaching her how to fight. She was learning shamanism from Vi'ta. Kezrin hardly felt like herself anymore, at least not the Kezrin she used to be. Kezrin Goldwick felt so very far away, and yet the smell of roses - living someplace that wasn't a cheap rental -

-the annoyance of standing still to be measured for a dress -

-and suddenly she was remembering that she still was Kezrin Goldwick, underneath it all.

How to balance the two? There was still that jarring moment in her life, when Goldwick disappeared and Kanzelry took over, the day she woke up in Orgrimmar. She once again wished that she had more than hazy memories and bad dreams of her missing year, something to tell her how one person became the other. How did one person, as Yuuko put it, simply move away and start over? It had been presented to Kezrin, fait accompli, by a version of herself she didn’t even know.

Maybe if she weren't trying so hard to be the new Kezrin, who hit things and tried to tackle her problems, she may not have been stupid enough to venture near Moradinel's shop by herself, only days after warning the new courier, Lili, to stay away from him without a Shield. She had only intended to peek in and maybe ask a few questions, but in rather poor timing, he'd been in the front for once instead of his office and spotted her the moment she walked inside.

“Miss Kanzelry!” Moradinel’s voice called out, and she froze half-step, turning around.

“You’re actually here?”

“What brings you here? And of course I am here...why wouldn't I be?”

Wishing he were gone, her mind flew to the flyers recently posted in Silvermoon. “Uh, well, thought I saw somethin' bout ya takin' a trip... to Thousand Needles.”

He cocked his head to one side. "A trip? And where did you hear about this ...trip?"

“Rumors, I guess?”

“Well what did you expect to find with me away?”

Kezrin crossed her arms, stammering an excuse. "Well, ya know, a-as much as I dislike you, uh, you still have - a nice shop"

Moradinel chuckled and welcomed her in. “What do you need made?"

“M-made?” She darted her eyes around for inspiration.
“Yes, that -is- what we do here, sew clothing.”

“Oh, right. Well, um. Something for... Noblegarden?”

“Noblegarden, yes that is soon, something light in color and in function?” He moved around the shop examining different bolts of cloths before finally settling on something light blue, "This… this would be good with your complexion don't you think?"

“I s'ppose? Been fond of blue. really.”

“Wonderful, let me get your measurements and we'll get started right away on it.”

He pulled out a measuring tape and Kezrin’s heart stopped.

“Right now?” she asked in despair.

“Yes, of course, we've settled on a color, then we can talk style and I or one of my people will get on it right away. This is how I make a living, Miss Kanzelry.”

“I just, uh, wasn't really expecting-”

...you to be here…

...you’d actually sell me something…

...and of course you do your own measurments.

She sighed. “Uh, so where?”

“Right here, you needn't undress, we'll just subtract an inch or two as we go.”

Her jaw twitched, but with another sigh, she stood still and with her arms slightly out, well-versed in the art of being measured. She had to close her eyes to concentrate on not to flinch back every time she felt the tape measure, but being able to expect the touches helped. Moradinel was quick and deft with his movements, taking her measurements in a well practiced manner. He spouted out the measurements to an assistant who jotted them down.

When the last measurement was called, she peeked open an eye to locate him. He was putting away the measuring tape with a smile. “All done now.”

“Right. Good. Hate gettin’ measured.” She emphasized the sentiment with a shudder.

“Well then, now for the style what were you thinking?”
Her expression went blank and she tried to think of an answer. "Nothing fancy? Just... a nice dress?" A sudden thought occurred to her. "And nothin' Mormel would sell."


He laughed. "You do realize we supply her with all of her silks, don't you?"

“Yeah, but I'm assuming not her IDEAS. Ya've seen the scarf she calls a dress, ain't ya?”

Moradinel laughed again. “Yes, I’ve seen it.”

Kezrin continued to rambled on, only half talking to him. “I really just don't get her how she thinks, it's insane."

“Insane or not, she's a great saleswoman and that's what matters.”

“Well- maybe. I’m not particularly fond of pushy salespeople.” She dared to look at him while saying that. He definitely counted as a pushy person.

He smiled down at her. “So you much prefer my style to hers?"

That… wasn’t the response she was expecting. Her instinct was to say she’d prefer anyone over him, but then…. she recalled how much Mormel was always pushing Kezrin to buy an outfit, to the point where the other goblin would purposefully not listen to what she was saying.

But then Mormel had never used force against her.

“Fine. Direct comparison, yeah, sure... if you're not busy bein' insane, either. If we're talkin' solely salesmanship."

He frowned. "Surely Miss Kanzelry you are not upset with me?"

“Upset! O' course I am! Why wouldn't I be afta what ya did?”

Moradinel sighed, "Start at the beginning. What has you upset?"

She opened her mouth to yell, at him, but then stopped and stared. “You... hafta... ASK?"

“Yes... why wouldn't I?”

She started gesturing with her hands, pointing at him then not, unable to decide what she should be doing or saying first. "You... you! were toyin' with me! Weren't you? Maybe even now! Tellin' me ta- ta-" her voice dropped, "- kill ya."

He leaned down and lowered his voice. "I was not well Miss Kanzelry. I am now." He smiled at her, it appeared genuine.

She studied him with skepticism. "Not well? That's an understatement. And if ya have a convenient relapse?"

He laughed, "I don't see anything convenient about it."

“It's convenient for thinkin’ why kidnappin' a girl wouldn't- wait.” There was simply no way that even he’d fail to see why she’d be upset about that.

“Kidnapping? What are you talking about?” He narrowed his gaze at her.

“Ya don’t remember, do ya?” she asked, not able to hide some relief.

“What are you talking about, Miss Kanzelry?”

“Ya... ya really dont? Makin' me leave Orgrimmar and everythin'?” She really didn’t want to elaborate on “everything.”

“You came with me because you were in danger?”

“Oh, so ya do.”

“You were giving out kisses?” His brow wrinkled. “And I was there to help you as you were about to be accosted. I saved you.”

She blinked at him, dumbfounded. “The only person who kissed me was-!” She hastily slapped a hand over her mouth before she could blurt more.

He cocked a brow, "Who?"

“F-forget it. Just forget it.”

“Well, how can I forget it when you brought it up, and it seems to cause you a great deal of distress?”

She looked down at her feet to hide her embarrassment. She didn’t want to see his expression. “You,” she mumbled, barely audible.

Unseen, Moradinel looked at her, then above at the wall, a smile befalling his lips, before looing back down. “Do you regret this?”

“A gal like ta choose who she kisses, ya know.”

Laughter. “You didn't answer the question."

She looked up to glare at him. “Well, yeah! I was hopin' the next time someone kissed me, it'd be someone who wasn't tryin' ta hurt me!"

He looked at her, confused. “You think I want to hurt you?"

“You did.”

He frowned again, folding his arms over his chest. “Explain.”

She pointed to her arm. “When I wouldn't go with you, you did something. Like a burn." A new expression of confusion crept into her face as she had to explain it. He really, truly, didn’t remember?

“A burn?” He looked at her curiously. “Show me?”

She hesitated, but decided to roll of her sleeve as proof. The sleeve was loose, but it was tight by the time she rolled it up high enough to see what was left of the burn mark. “Luckily Icee did something ta help it.”

He looked down at the wound. "I see." He said plainly. "Well that's quite unfortunate. I am sorry that this happened, what can I do to make it up to you?"

She pulled the sleeve down with a huff. "I... don't know," she said flatly. "Passed up my chance ta kill, ya afterall."

“Do you regret that?” he echoed his earlier question.

“No.” She was surprised at how quickly the word left her lips. Feeling she needed to explain, she added, “S'not the type of person I want ta be.”

“I am sorry that you were harmed, Miss Kanzelry, allow me to make it up to you. This dress will be on the house, and if you don't like it, we'll find you something you like.”

“Dress?” Somehow she’d already completely forgotten her cover story, lost in thought.

“The dress that we've just spoken of? The one that I just took your measurements on?”

“Oh.. right. Noblegarden. I guess that's a start.”

“Well, I am glad for the opportunity to make things right, Miss Kanzelry.”

It was time to talk about something else. Anything else. “So, uh, dress. Blue. Nothin' like Mormel's stuff.”

“Blue… modest. Got it.”

“Ya need me ta... look at anythin'?”

“No, I think I've got it all now.”

“Right, then, since that's, uh, all I came here for,” - the lie tripped over her tonge- “I'll be goin', Ya can send word ta the AAMS office if ya need anythin'.”

“Very well, we'll be in touch.”

She glanced back at him a few times as she left, half expecting him to stop her for some reason, but nothing happened.

She hadn’t gone straight back to Solendenus’, just to be safe, but left a message with Iciea that she was expecting a package from Moradinel’s shop, just in case someone decided to pre-emptorily throw it out as suspicious.

And now, today, she needed the peace and quiet of the hothouse to settle her mind. She’d gotten some answers to mull over, but at the same time, none at all. Plus, she’d managed to corner herself into a position where she was now accepting gifts from him.

Perhaps Solendenus’s interpretation was just the simplest: Moradinel enjoyed tormenting her, and she made an easy target. Try as hard as she might to be Kezrin Kanzelry, timid Kezrin Goldwick still ruled far too often, was too easy to push over.

Somewhere, a bell tolled. She sighed and climbed to her feet. Whether it would help long term or not, hitting something with a mace would certainly make her feel a lot better right now.