swiftdawn: (I wanna live not just survive)
(For [personal profile] deadcertain.)

"How's the leg?"

Her companion winced. "Broken," she said, blearily, leaning back against the pillows propped up at the end of the cot. "Some fellow dressed it, but they don' have any heals to spare. Forsaken, y'know, not real big on that." Her speech was uncharacteristically slurred, a side-effect of what Alexia personally thought was a slightly inadvisable number of numbing potions consumed over the course of their slog back to the encampment near Andorhal. "Took a potion to speed it along, but it'll still be a while before I can take another hit f'r you."

"Yeah, sorry about that..." Alexia grimaced, and rubbed her temples. "I suppose I'll just have to go on my own," she said. "I hate not being able to keep appointments, and keeping up a good relationship with the Argent Crusade is important if we actually want to be able to keep the hold we've got in Lordaeron. If Tirion Fordring decides that Sylvanas is worth moving against, it'll be a nightmare."

The other woman coughed. "An' you won't be able to see y'r boyfriend."

Alexia rolled her eyes. "Oh, hush. Get some rest, Adaia. I'm sure I'll be fine."

"You always say that right b'fore you come back with some horrible inj'ry. Make them loan you someone to take with you f'r a bodyguard, at least. Do that thing you do where you smile f'r too long an' they feel compelled t' give you anything to make you go 'way."

"...well, yes," said Alexia, not bothering to deny it. "I'll do my best to keep safe so long as you don't menace anyone more than a hundred and ten percent of what they menace you and make sure to rest up. And don't you die."

"Don't think I'm the one in danger of that, boss."

"Sass is not resting, Adaia."


As it turned out, the officer she spoke to had someone to recommend for her to take along without her even doing much aggressive prompting—a priest by the name of Cecily Ashrot. Likely one of the followers of the Shadow that was so popular among the Forsaken, then; if she wasn't, then she imagined she'd have been tending to Adaia. That, and so few of the Forsaken priesthood wielded the Holy Light, since even to the free-willed undead of the right temperament it caused immense pain even as it healed.

Whatever her specialty, though, she'd come well-recommended; the squad leader had been quite eager to tell Alexia that Ashrot would be just what she was looking for and ready to hit the road as soon as possible. She quite liked that; she got little enough respect as a diplomat in the Horde, and she'd never seen someone so happy to be helpful. It was actually a little disconcerting.

Well, maybe sometime soon she could get used to it. People didn't think much of her ideas, but she'd make it so that finding fault with her results would be impossible. She shifted, shrugging her pack higher on her shoulders, and leaned against a post by the edge of the camp to wait for her new escort.