A story of how Threnn prepared for the fight against Arthas and the Lich King
“I need you to hold onto this for me.” Threnn slid the box across the counter and watched the Bells’ eyebrows raise.
Robert picked it up and rubbed his thumb across the smooth-polished surface. “This is one of ours, Threnny.” He and William shared an identical dubious glance. “What are we supposed to do with it?”
“Just keep it for me, for a little while.” She gave them her best smile, but they were having none of it. All of Stormwind knew by now that the banners had been called. Still, Robert might have let her get away without digging any deeper, but Will slipped his fingers along the seam and prised open the lid.
Inside, on cushions of silk, were a small fortune in rings, necklaces, and earrings. Atop all of them rested a letter, one word inscribed in Threnn’s flowing hand: [i]Naiara[/i]
Robert hissed in a breath, then threw her a glare that would have sent most sensible people scurrying. “I’m not fucking discussing this with you.” He moved around his brother, grabbed his toolbox, and stalked over to the door. “You’re comin’ back, Threnny, an’ that’s the end of it. Will, if you’ve any sense, you won’t entertain this… this…” His voice broke. He stood there, staring at her in mute rage for a moment, until the tears welled in his eyes. Then he spun on his heel and walked out of the shop, slamming the door behind him.
Threnn and Will stood silently while Robert’s boots stomped up the stairs to the apartment he shared with his brother and his father. That door slammed as well, making the shavings of sawdust tremble on the counter.
“Don’t mind him,” said Will. “He’s spent the morning being reminded that we learned to make coffins before ever we made cradles.”
She smiled. “We’ll be back, Will. This is just… a precaution.”
His brow furrowed, an echo of the hurt Robert had so loudly expressed. “You don’t hand over your things and write letters like that if you believe–”
“Will.” The warning note in her voice was unmistakeable.
He subsided, dipping two long fingers into the box and coming out with an amethyst ring, mounted in silver. “It’s fine work. Always has been.”
“I told him someday he’d be making rings for queens. She’s still just a princess right now, but she’ll grow into them.”
“And you’ll be there to see it.” When Threnn didn’t answer, Will sighed and put the ring back, closed the lid on the box. “Threnny.”
“I’m not making your coffin. You hear me? Bricu’s either. So you’d both better come home, or you’re spending eternity in a box of subpar quality.” He reached across the counter and took her hand. “You come home, and give these to her yourself. Clear?”
The seconds ticked away on the shop’s clock as they regarded one another. For once, Threnn dropped her gaze first. “That’s the plan.”
“Good girl. Now fuck off, yeah? I hear there’s some big to-do up North you ought to be at.”
Threnn looked up at the ceiling, towards the apartment above. “Should I go see him?”
“Nah. He’s liable to say something stupid. I’ll have him buzz you later, when he’s feeling appropriately contrite.” Will came around the counter and wrapped his arms around her.
Threnn breathed in the scent of sawdust and wood polish that had been a comfort to her since childhood. Eventually she pulled away, her eyes dry. “I’ll see you in a few days.”
“Damned right.” He tousled her hair and dodged her swat. When the door closed behind her and Threnn had melded into the foot traffic heading for the trade district, Will sank to his knees and said a prayer, begging the gods to watch over them all.