ooc: drabble
[This is just a drabble about Med'an and his mother. It is not relevant to the game. Please ignore. XD]
The night before they had left, his mother had come to sit with him.
Finding out who she was...who he was...it seemed too soon afterwards to have to part with her again. He understood why she - and Meryl - were leaving, and they had all promised to write as often as possible and not be apart for too long. And he was pleased that Meryl would be there to look after her, and vice versa. And he did like his great-uncle very much - certainly enough to stay with him and train as a paladin under him. And he was excited to see new places with him, learn new things, meet so many new people. But he wanted to be with the parent he had never had, and the one he did have as well.
But being responsible and mature meant that they had to go separate ways. He told Meryl that he was starting to think that he'd rather just stay a child. (That had earned him a smile and a hug, at least.)
He wondered if he looked anything like her as she brushed his hair off of his forehead. She told him that she didn't know if she was going to be good at parenting, but her touch was gentle and motherly. She looked strong and fierce and sad as she had when he was young and had thought he'd dreamt of a woman watching over him. He loved her already.
That night they just talked. It was simple, and yet it was something they had never gotten the chance to do. All his life he had never known who she was - even that she existed - and when they had finally met there was no time to sit down and chat. But now, she said, they could be together, and spend time together, and they could talk about whatever he wanted.
He asked about his father, and she told him of how they had met. He had heard a similar story before, from the specter of Medivh, left for him to give him just the bare essentials to understand who he was. But this one answered some of his questions, put some of his thoughts to rest. She said that he struggled against Sargeras, although at the time she hadn't recognized it for that. And that he was a good man - his view was so greater than the rest of them, and so his deeds seemed off-kilter at best then, but only because they had not yet been shown the rest of the board on which they played.
"He always said things like that," she said, and then smiled wryly. "He confused me sometimes. He confused all of us. Was hard to know what he was thinking." He was nestled against her side, watching her face, thinking that maybe they had the same eyes.
She looked back at him then. Sad and fierce. "But I do know that he would have loved you. As much as I do, Med'an."
Her smile grew as she looked at him and he felt very, very loved.
The night before they had left, his mother had come to sit with him.
Finding out who she was...who he was...it seemed too soon afterwards to have to part with her again. He understood why she - and Meryl - were leaving, and they had all promised to write as often as possible and not be apart for too long. And he was pleased that Meryl would be there to look after her, and vice versa. And he did like his great-uncle very much - certainly enough to stay with him and train as a paladin under him. And he was excited to see new places with him, learn new things, meet so many new people. But he wanted to be with the parent he had never had, and the one he did have as well.
But being responsible and mature meant that they had to go separate ways. He told Meryl that he was starting to think that he'd rather just stay a child. (That had earned him a smile and a hug, at least.)
He wondered if he looked anything like her as she brushed his hair off of his forehead. She told him that she didn't know if she was going to be good at parenting, but her touch was gentle and motherly. She looked strong and fierce and sad as she had when he was young and had thought he'd dreamt of a woman watching over him. He loved her already.
That night they just talked. It was simple, and yet it was something they had never gotten the chance to do. All his life he had never known who she was - even that she existed - and when they had finally met there was no time to sit down and chat. But now, she said, they could be together, and spend time together, and they could talk about whatever he wanted.
He asked about his father, and she told him of how they had met. He had heard a similar story before, from the specter of Medivh, left for him to give him just the bare essentials to understand who he was. But this one answered some of his questions, put some of his thoughts to rest. She said that he struggled against Sargeras, although at the time she hadn't recognized it for that. And that he was a good man - his view was so greater than the rest of them, and so his deeds seemed off-kilter at best then, but only because they had not yet been shown the rest of the board on which they played.
"He always said things like that," she said, and then smiled wryly. "He confused me sometimes. He confused all of us. Was hard to know what he was thinking." He was nestled against her side, watching her face, thinking that maybe they had the same eyes.
She looked back at him then. Sad and fierce. "But I do know that he would have loved you. As much as I do, Med'an."
Her smile grew as she looked at him and he felt very, very loved.