37 | COFFEE & CHOCOLATE

926 102 5
                                    

Idira hadn't moved since he'd left. She lay on her side, sound asleep, a small smile curving her lips. Khadgar sat on the edge of the bed and conjured a mug of coffee. It appeared on the bedside table, its rich aroma filling the air. Idira stirred, sleepy, and rolled onto her back. She smiled up at him.

"That coffee smells good."

Khadgar bent over and kissed her, before presenting the wrapped bundle with a flourish. He set it on the bed, beside her. She watched him as he opened it. The croissants tumbled out, their warm buttery scent mixing with the coffee's, making the bedroom smell like the interior of Dalaran's finest coffee house, the Legerdemain Lounge.

She sat up, her hair tousled. Her violet eyes shone, delighted. Holding the blanket against her chest, she picked up a croissant, and broke off a piece. He watched her eat, his heart aching with love. He had no idea he could ever feel this way. He almost couldn't stand it. Almost.

He held out the coffee to her. She blew on it before sipping.

Khadgar reached out to tuck a stray lock of her hair behind her ear.

"Today we must go into the font, so you can examine the tunnel and Gul'dan's wards."

She nodded and picked up another croissant. She bit into it, discovering the melting chocolate inside. Her face filled with rapture. She held it up, pointing at the croissant's dark, liquid centre.

"What is this?"

Khadgar shook his head, taken aback. "Have you never tasted chocolate before?"

She didn't answer, she was too busy devouring the croissant. He almost laughed when she began breaking the other ones apart, searching their centres for more chocolate. She found two more, her delight at her sudden bounty touching him.

He pushed himself back onto the bed and leaned against the bed's headboard, stretching his legs out in front of him, crossed at the ankles. He conjured himself a mug of coffee, and settled back to enjoy it, so Idira could take her time savouring her first experience of chocolate. He made a mental note to make sure to bring her chocolate every day from now on. He wondered what else she had been deprived of during her upbringing in Westfall. He clenched his jaw and forced the thought away. That was in the past. From now on she would want for nothing.

Idira finished her breakfast with a satisfied sigh. Brushing the crumbs onto the napkin she folded it up and set it aside. Khadgar put his arm around her as she settled against him and sipped the last of her coffee.

"So, you are a frost mage, then?" Khadgar asked.

She smiled. "I have no idea how you were able to figure that out."

"A wild guess," he set his empty mug onto the bedside table. "Do you suffer much from it?"

She nodded, and bit her lip. Not that again. He took hold of her chin, and lifted her face to his. "That drives me crazy, just so you know." She bit her lip harder, teasing him.

He groaned and pushed himself from the bed. He held out his hand to her. "Come, the font awaits. We have work to do."

She took his hand and stepped out of the bed. Light wove up from her feet, wrapping around her, clothing her. Khadgar watched, fascinated. Her powers were beautiful to behold. There was not a drop of darkness in her. She was pure light. When she was done, she stood before him in a shimmering white gown, its neckline, waist and hips accented with glittering diamonds. Silver thread shot through the material, edging it with embroidered frost runes. A silver circlet, embossed with glowing violet runes wove through her upswept hair. Gone was the shy young woman from Westfall who had stood on his office's balcony in a threadbare linen gown. Now a woman far beyond his wildest imagination stood before him; a silver staff, crackling with power rested in her hand, its crown encircled with threads of white light. Ancient power emanated from her. He could see her breath as the temperature in the room dropped.

He knelt, overcome. "My Lady . . . I am not worthy of you."

She touched his shoulder. He came to his feet, feeling as though the tables had turned--he had become the novice and she the master. She looked up at him, earnest. "Never do that again. To you, at least, I must be Idira."

Her skin sparkled with frost, offsetting the brilliance of her violet eyes. He found her utterly breathtaking, the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. He nodded. "And so it shall be, my love."

She smiled, delighted at his choice of words. "Then let us do this thing. I am ready. Take me to the font."

Into the LightWhere stories live. Discover now