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Description

Crysanthemum spent most of her days seperated from society as a whole. It was quieter here, a deserted area where she could be free from expectation, be free from the sidelong glances and glares. Free of the fear in others eyes. Here; She could just be herself.
So it came to a surprise to her that anyone would bother to travel out her way; Even her sisters rarely made the trip.
Even more surprising, was the man who stepped foot into her home, His eyes familiar, though now a simmering gold rather than fel-green, and something small and breathing tucked against his chest. His dark red locks framed his un-aging face in a way that might have made her heart ache in another time. She stood, brushing her hands against her dress slightly, warily moving towards him, her glowing blue eyes unblinking against the harsh light in the doorway.
“I wasn’t sure you’d settle anywhere.” He said quietly, his voice no louder than a whisper. “It took me months to get Xaedrienne to tell me the truth about your whereabouts, and even then, she wanted to know why.” Crysanthemum tilted her head.
“I have to admit.” She said slowly. “I myself don’t understand why. Care to explain?” He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, and Crysanthemum narrowed her eyes.
“I felt that it could wait no longer.” He said quietly, his eyes flickering to the small creature wrapped in his arms. “I’ve put it off for one too many years and… well…” He shifted and the bundle fell away slightly. In his arms, half awake, was a child. Small, not uncommon for a blood elven child. But her skin was not the shade of peach she was familiar with. Her hair was closer to pink than it was red. Her ears were wider and slightly cantered back. Crysanthemum’s brow furrowed.
“I don’t understand.” She replied bluntly. The man looked intensely pained. The child shifted, her eyes zeroing in on the Death Knight with a strangely ephemeral intensity.
“You don’t remember?” He asked softly, setting the girl down gently. She hugged a peach colored bear to her chest, her cheeks warming slightly, a familiar fear of the unfamiliar present in her eyes. The goblin thought for a moment, and for a moment, a glimpse of something flashed behind her eyes. A Memory. A night. passion. A birth. A promise. All broken. Her eyes widened and she recoiled back, falling to her knees in horror.
“No-” She whispered, hugging her shoulders. “Why- Why would you do this to me!”
The pity behind his eyes was palpable, but she could not accept this as recompense. How dare he? The child looked at her as if seeing her in a new light, and she could nearly feel the judgement of the Light upon her skin. Would she never stop suffering for her crimes?
“This isn’t a punishment Crys.” He tells her, leaning down and pushing on the girl slightly. She steps forward, still clinging to the bear. “This is me giving you something you desperately need. You have to acknowledge her. You have to acknowledge your daughter. You can’t continue to suffer seclusion when you don’t even remember what you should be fighting for.” If Crysanthemum’s heart wasn’t dead, it would be breaking into a million pieces, she was sure. This little child, who couldn’t be more than five or six; She’d missed so many years, unwilling, and then forgotten her own kin? One born of her own body?
“Don’t push her away like you do to everyone else.” He tells her, leaning down and giving the small girl another push. “You have to take responsibility for things you’ve done, yes. But you also have to accept that you’ve never done those things because you wanted to. But this… but her? She was born of a love that is not dead. Not like you think it is.” He gave her one last little push and she was hardly a foot from Crysanthemum, her eyes round as saucers and knuckles nearly white against the bear.
“She needs you to remember her Crys. You need you to remember her. Because there are some things that are worth protecting. There are some things worth coming out of solitude for. The Horde needs you. We need you. She needs you.”
Crysanthemum tore her eyes from the man she once loved, and her eyes widened as she watched the girls hand lift, a single finger extended, as if to verify that she was real. Almost as if in a trance, she lifted her hand to meet it, mesmerized by the small child that by all accounts, should never have been brought this far.
Yet here she was, and she wasn’t going anywhere. She was real. Something to protect.
–
Another What if Scenario! In this AU, Crysanthemum and Dess had a child just before her death. Dess raised the daughter alone for five years, at which time he finally tracks down Crysanthemum (Who was in self imposed solitude.) and reminds her of her daughter’s existance.

Description

Crysanthemum spent most of her days seperated from society as a whole. It was quieter here, a deserted area where she could be free from expectation, be free from the sidelong glances and glares. Free of the fear in others eyes. Here; She could just be herself.
So it came to a surprise to her that anyone would bother to travel out her way; Even her sisters rarely made the trip.
Even more surprising, was the man who stepped foot into her home, His eyes familiar, though now a simmering gold rather than fel-green, and something small and breathing tucked against his chest. His dark red locks framed his un-aging face in a way that might have made her heart ache in another time. She stood, brushing her hands against her dress slightly, warily moving towards him, her glowing blue eyes unblinking against the harsh light in the doorway.
“I wasn’t sure you’d settle anywhere.” He said quietly, his voice no louder than a whisper. “It took me months to get Xaedrienne to tell me the truth about your whereabouts, and even then, she wanted to know why.” Crysanthemum tilted her head.
“I have to admit.” She said slowly. “I myself don’t understand why. Care to explain?” He seemed uncomfortable for a moment, and Crysanthemum narrowed her eyes.
“I felt that it could wait no longer.” He said quietly, his eyes flickering to the small creature wrapped in his arms. “I’ve put it off for one too many years and… well…” He shifted and the bundle fell away slightly. In his arms, half awake, was a child. Small, not uncommon for a blood elven child. But her skin was not the shade of peach she was familiar with. Her hair was closer to pink than it was red. Her ears were wider and slightly cantered back. Crysanthemum’s brow furrowed.
“I don’t understand.” She replied bluntly. The man looked intensely pained. The child shifted, her eyes zeroing in on the Death Knight with a strangely ephemeral intensity.
“You don’t remember?” He asked softly, setting the girl down gently. She hugged a peach colored bear to her chest, her cheeks warming slightly, a familiar fear of the unfamiliar present in her eyes. The goblin thought for a moment, and for a moment, a glimpse of something flashed behind her eyes. A Memory. A night. passion. A birth. A promise. All broken. Her eyes widened and she recoiled back, falling to her knees in horror.
“No-” She whispered, hugging her shoulders. “Why- Why would you do this to me!”
The pity behind his eyes was palpable, but she could not accept this as recompense. How dare he? The child looked at her as if seeing her in a new light, and she could nearly feel the judgement of the Light upon her skin. Would she never stop suffering for her crimes?
“This isn’t a punishment Crys.” He tells her, leaning down and pushing on the girl slightly. She steps forward, still clinging to the bear. “This is me giving you something you desperately need. You have to acknowledge her. You have to acknowledge your daughter. You can’t continue to suffer seclusion when you don’t even remember what you should be fighting for.” If Crysanthemum’s heart wasn’t dead, it would be breaking into a million pieces, she was sure. This little child, who couldn’t be more than five or six; She’d missed so many years, unwilling, and then forgotten her own kin? One born of her own body?
“Don’t push her away like you do to everyone else.” He tells her, leaning down and giving the small girl another push. “You have to take responsibility for things you’ve done, yes. But you also have to accept that you’ve never done those things because you wanted to. But this… but her? She was born of a love that is not dead. Not like you think it is.” He gave her one last little push and she was hardly a foot from Crysanthemum, her eyes round as saucers and knuckles nearly white against the bear.
“She needs you to remember her Crys. You need you to remember her. Because there are some things that are worth protecting. There are some things worth coming out of solitude for. The Horde needs you. We need you. She needs you.”
Crysanthemum tore her eyes from the man she once loved, and her eyes widened as she watched the girls hand lift, a single finger extended, as if to verify that she was real. Almost as if in a trance, she lifted her hand to meet it, mesmerized by the small child that by all accounts, should never have been brought this far.
Yet here she was, and she wasn’t going anywhere. She was real. Something to protect.
–
Another What if Scenario! In this AU, Crysanthemum and Dess had a child just before her death. Dess raised the daughter alone for five years, at which time he finally tracks down Crysanthemum (Who was in self imposed solitude.) and reminds her of her daughter’s existance.