Daughter of Azeroth

71 | FORBIDDEN

Several hours must have passed, though once Idira recovered and returned to the library, she lost all track of time. As the raven flew up into the reaches of the tower, circling and exploring, the books clustered around her once more, as tender and curious as little birds, hovering beside her. They fluttered ahead, leading her along the rows of bookshelves into the middle of the tower where she discovered a large desk and chair dominating the open space. She turned full circle. All around her, bookshelves fanned away like spokes in a wheel.

She went to the table, curious, her fingers trailing across the open books strewn across the table's heavy oaken surface. A half-empty wine cup sat on the table. Idira lifted it and sniffed its contents. A red wine, full, robust, with tantalising notes of toasted oak. She sipped the ruby liquid, sighing with pleasure as it rolled, complex and buttery over her tongue and down her throat, recalling the moment Khadgar had pulled her away from the portal, his breath smelling of wine. This wine. She touched her lips, her heart beating a little faster as she relived how close he had held her, how easy it would have been for him to have kissed her. She sipped from his cup again savouring the thought, letting the wine soften the aches and pains in her body. She looked up, the books drifted closer, waiting for her, patient.

As she continued to sip the wine, one of the tomes fluttered down and lay itself on the table before her, flicking through its pages, a blur. It stopped with a quiet rustle. She leaned down and read the arcane lettering. How to Conjure the Lost Vintages of Kul Tiras. She smiled. Of course. His homeland, long gone. It would be the first thing she would learn so she could surprise him when he returned.

She began. It didn't take long to learn the spells, but there were so many vintages, and she wanted to find the perfect one. By the time he returned carrying a large paper bag bearing the Bagel Brothers' logo, she was tipsy from tasting all the wines she had conjured.

'Oh!' she exclaimed as she lowered her wine cup, catching him coming up between the bookshelves, looking even better than she remembered. He glanced over the table littered with more than a dozen silver goblets, his expression amused. With a shake of his head, he pushed aside several of the goblets, making space for the bag containing her dinner. He leaned back against one of the bookshelves and crossed his arms over his chest.

'I see you have your priorities right, at least,' he said, his lips quirking into a half-smile.

Idira didn't know what to say. Instead she held out the wine cup containing the vintage she thought he might enjoy. He took it, his eyebrow raised, intrigued.

'You don't intend me to drink alone do you?' he asked, nodding at the table. 'Which one will you have?'

She picked up the second best one and waited for him to lift his cup to her. 'To your studies, then,' he said, soft.

He sipped, keeping his eyes on her. They widened as he tasted the wine. He swallowed, slow. 'This is excellent,' he murmured, moving over to the book, curious. 'Vintages of Kul Tiras,' he read. He glanced back at her, and said, quiet, 'My homeland.'

'I read a book about you, a long time ago,' Idira admitted, feeling her cheeks darken as he watched her, his expression changing in a way that made her heart beat faster. 'I thought you might like something from the home you had to leave behind.'

He sipped again, his eyes holding hers once more. She clutched her wine cup tighter, shivering with pleasure under his steel-grey gaze. 'I do like it,' he said taking his eyes from hers and looking down into the wine as he swirled around, airing it, bringing out the fullness of its notes. 'I like it very much.'

He gestured at the paper bag. 'How about some food to go with this good wine?' he asked.

Idira edged nearer as he opened the bag and pulled out half a dozen wrapped parcels. 'Forgive me,' he said as he opened them, checking their contents, 'I had no idea what you liked so I bought an assortment. Let's see now, there's lamb with minted cress, or roasted tomatoes and pepper with caramelised onions and organic goat's cheese,' he glanced at her, bemused, '—it's a new thing, this organic trend—and what else? Oh yes, smoked whitescale salmon with wild mustard—'