[Prompt] Family

[Gharion-ragnaros (Gharion)]

This a continuation of another prompt you posted a while ago:

(And in light of the entries already posted here, i decided to make this one a tad more humorous, hope you dont mind )

[Prompt] The Egg

To the surprise of many, Death Knight Gharion was quite fond of nature- mind you, that did not mean nature -or druids, for that matter- were fond of him. Butterflies, for example, were not among his top priority destructables. There are so many people out there. People that he doesn’t like much. While butterflies- butterflies just go about their fluttery business and have interesting patterns. Butterflies -surprisingly- also did not seem to mind him being a dead man walking, which was always w…

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Death Knight Gharion was not a man you crossed. In fact, he wasn’t the sort of man you wanted under the impression that you were even thinking about entertaining of the thought of maybe doing something even mildly villainous.

This was for two reasons.

Three, actually, if you wanted to count the sword and powers as different reasons.

The other was a nickname he had worked very hard for and was very sure he deserved.

The Horde Slayer.

“Amaranthine, you know I go where the work leads.” He told the clingy opportunist he nevertheless felt obligated to protect and nurture. Said shameless opportunist just so happened to be a dark whelping already the size of an adult eagle.

“If this is about all the ‘you must repent for your wrongness, sparkle sparkle sacred paladin noises’ uncle Geralt does then you could at least brought me with you so I wouldn’t need to sneak inside your backpack!”

The fact that a two year old critter was able to snark at someone with the moniker of ‘Horde Slayer’ spoke volumes of her trust that he would not harm her, her bravery and her insanity.

And also how low the mighty had fallen. But, hey, he was once a paladin and now existed as a glorified pain vampire- he wasn’t exactly in a position to cast any judgements.

“This has nothing to do with my brother and his annoying morals, I simply felt the obligation to finish what had been started in Pandaria, I could not refuse the call to Dreanor.” Gharion shook his head.

She rolled her small eyes. “Oh, sure, reasonable innit? Frigging garba-” The tips of her jaws where firmly but gently seized by a purple force, just as Gharion’s hand also glowed with the same power. His eyes narrowed towards the dark whelping, cold and stern.

“If you wish to continue this conversation, you shall do so without swearing,” He explained to her, calmly. “It is unbecoming.” His hand glowed no more and fell to his side, Amaranthine breathed a sigh of relief.

Gharion sighed. “Listen, I too am terrible at apologies, so I won’t endeavor to get one out of you. I know what I promised when you requested a name and I gave you yours - but I would have been a terrible guardian if had brought you here with me, to an open battlefield.”

He raised a finger when she was about to interrupt. “An open battlefield in another planet .”

He sighed. “When I found your egg during the Pandaria Campaign, I had nowhere safe to leave you. Since I do now, I left you at Amal’thazad’s care until I returned- I even had Darion’s reluctant blessing to this agreement.”

He stroked his beard in thought. “And if I were a gambling man, I would wager that you somehow angered our Highlord and fled, mmmh?”

She fumed in a bad attempt of mock outrage. “Hey! it’s not my fault Darion is one salty cun-”

“Amaranthine…” Gharion interrupted her, not wanting to let her finish her curse.

The dark whelping gulped and smiled sheepishly at him. “Right, right, sorry. So you really think Dad-rion Mom-graine has all his screws on? Do you REALLY think so? I mean, he stabbed himself in the chest once. At this point I’m convinced he’s either completely hollow inside or trying to get there. Won’t be long before we see him wandering around trying to take souls from any passersby.”

Gharion pinched the bridge of nose as he screamed internally, then he leaned close. Good Light, either preserve me or just smite me already. “Young lady, either you get yourself to The Acherus right now or I will drag you there by your wings.”

The dark whelping looked at him right in the eye in defiance. “I will count to ten.” Gharion folded his arms and then raised a single, armored digit.

Then another.

Amaranthine continued her posturing as bravely as her diminutive size allowed her, but by the fifth finger her eyes had grown wide and watery as they darted around, avoiding his gaze- all while she sweated nervously (as well as a whelping could, anyway). After a moment of consideration, she admitted defeat and flew over to Gharion’s shoulder, perching herself on his armor.

At this point in their relationship, Gharion considered Amaranthine as some luck of surrogate daughter or niece he only occasionally felt the urge to kill. She considered him as a super strong being that kept random adventurers from turning her into an ugly out-of-fashion scaled purse, gave her food and occasional headpats and scratches behind the ears.

Creatures of carnage and deceit that they were, both of them knew that this was not healthy nor normal. And, were the circumstances more ideal, both of the could have probally done better for themselves.

But, honestly, why ruin a good thing?