The Frustrations of Leadership

Fandral was angry. He was usually angry, but this time, he had only himself to direct his rage at. But he had no time to sit alone to fight it out; a representative of Nighthaven was present and speaking to him of matters of utmost importance, undoubtedly. He didn't care much. They constantly pestered him. Why are we doing this? Why aren't we doing that? Bah, he thought. One day per week, I'd like a day away from these ambassadors. It's bad enough we've lost our immortality... But these repetitive fools are probably aging me faster with their drivel. The representative kept speaking. Fandral kept listening, thoughts skipping around now and then. The representative would arrive daily at the same time to report, request, and relax Fandral’s attention span. He had little time to daydream during most of the night, when night elves typically took care of their various businesses, but this visitor was the one in whose presence Fandral could just sit, nod, and glare. I suppose I should be thankful… Still, his daydreaming was rudely interrupted today by his own nagging thought: he had embraced Sintas. There was surely nothing wrong with it.
To most people.
He, however, was Fandral Staghelm, Archdruid, known with fear as Kar’sis, “hand of the earth,” by… Well. The insectoid race he would rather not mention, even to himself. But the fact still remained: He was a public figure, leader of the druids, held in high regard by many, and he had no time for the silly act he had done the day before. And it was silly. He reassured himself of that fact. It should not have happened.
Wait, what will I do when she reports today? He thought, frowning. The representative raised his brows.
“Archdruid?”
“Yes, what?” he snapped.
“Ah. I thought something was the matter. You didn’t look very pleased with what I was saying.”
Fandral rolled his eyes. “I think I misheard you. You don’t mind repeating it, do you?”
The representative nodded quickly, backtracking on his list of issues to discuss. Fandral tried keeping his face neutral, which for him was a mix of annoyance, impatience, and anger. Sometimes he would throw in evident disappointment to cause whoever came to bother him to try harder for his approval.
“Ah, and as always, we require another shipment of maple seeds.”
Fandral raised his brow. Something that interested him, at last! “More? You received two in the past two weeks. Either the druids aren’t progressing or there are simply hundreds of them… Which is it?”
The representative shifted a bit. “Ah, well, a mix of the two, I suppose. As you know, the battles against the Scourge escalate ever higher, and that seems to be a catalyst for more of our own to study a path of life and balance.” He nodded.
“So some are still lagging behind.”
He sighed. “Yes, some are. There are always some, though.”
Fandral rolled his eyes. “I suppose not all of us can be amazing. Very well, is that it?” He glanced to the door’s creamy, nearly opaque glass window. A silhouette stood patiently in it. “I have another appointment.”
The representative stood up, bowing. “Yes, that concludes our business. Thank you for your time, Archdruid.”
Fandral gestured to the door. “Indeed. Allow my next visitor entrance, if you don’t mind.” He waited, seated, for the bench in front of him to become occupied again. Who cared who came in next?
Surprisingly, the bench was not filled. Instead, a human in leather armor of questionable durability stepped in, carrying a bag. Fandral gave the human an appraising look. She appeared to be about twenty-five, was brown-haired, and carried two swords on her belt. She held the bag out to him.
“Morrowgrain for you, sir!”
Fandral blinked. “Good. Give it to Mathrengyl.”
The human tilted her head. “Who?”
He sighed. “The druid on the floor directly below this chamber.”
She quickly nodded. “Ohhhh, okay! Sorry!” She pranced out through the door she forgot to close, winding her way around the walkway. She hummed a song to herself, consisting of about five notes, then met face-to-face at a rather high speed with Sintas. The bag’s flimsy flap flew open, spilling the morrowgrain onto the two of them. The human girl quickly stood up, looking at the herb scattered about, then to Sintas, offering her a hand. Sintas shook her head a bit to send the morrowgrain from her face to the walkway, then took the girl’s hand.
The girl smiled. “Sorry, miss! Should really watch where you’re goin’ there!”
Sintas rubbed her head a bit, a headache quickly setting in from the herb’s properties. It was similar to the magic used by the more primitive cultures of the world: simple, natural, but difficult to tolerate, even without direction given to it by a caster.
“It’s fine… You’re right. Sorry about that.” She looked to the girl, then to the massive form looming behind the girl.
“I think you owe her more of an apology,” Fandral rumbled.
Sintas quickly shook her head. “Ah, no, it’s fine!” She smiled a bit. “I was miles away, I wasn’t paying enough attention!”
Fandral frowned at her. “Scatterbrained, as usual.”
She nodded, stepping past the now terrified girl, busy with picking up the morrowgrain. She frowned. Reminds me of when I first began reporting to Fandral… That was such a mess. She followed Fandral back to his chamber. Looking around the room, she eyed a small dent on the back wall. Maybe that bang I heard was—
“Alright. Have you heard from Saturna?”
Sintas blinked, nodding quickly. “Yes. He wanted your approval to reroute one of the rivers in Terokkar—“
“Denied.”
She sighed, head lowering a bit. This is how he was going to be today. “Might I ask the reason?”
“For one, it’s a waste of time.” Fandral snorted. “Outland isn’t our biggest concern right now. Preparing to clean up Northrend after the Lich King is destroyed, however, is.”
Sintas raised her brows, looking up at him again. “What? They’re moving forward with plans with that finally?”
He nodded. “Indeed. We will need to work in Crystalsong, in Sholazar, the Hills, probably…” He rubbed his beard. “Well, the whole thing, probably. Dragonblight will be the dragons’ problem.” A shrug. “Now then, to other business—“
“Fandral?” Sintas looked up at him questioningly.
He stopped, giving her a strange look. “Yes, what?”
She bit her lip. “What exactly happened yesterday?”
He waved his hand, shaking his head. “It was nothing—“
“It was certainly something.”
He stopped again, glaring. “That’s twice you’ve interrupted me. You haven’t even been here for five minutes.”
Sintas folded her arms, lowering her brow a bit. “Yes, but I think it’s rather important, since that isn’t how you usually act.”
Damnit. Give it a rest, Sintas, he thought. She’s not going to let this go, though… Bah, females. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I told you, it’s nothing. Now, are you here to be given an assignment? I’ve plenty of other appointments—“
“No you don’t. I asked.”
He clenched his jaw, glaring at her again. “Three times! That’s far too—“
“Four!”
He growled. The nerve! What had gotten into her today? He gave her a hard stare. She returned with her own. They stood there for a moment, waiting for each other to stand down…
Sintas stepped back, folding her arms. “Look. I thought it mattered, since you’re such a control freak.” Fandral opened his mouth to speak, but she quickly held up her hand to his mouth. “And yes, that’s more of that terrible human slang. Now listen. That’s a sign of trouble when it comes to you. I want to know what’s going on.” She let out a short sigh. “I think it’s pertinent to my business here.”
Fandral blinked. She had her hand on his mouth again. And she had figured him out completely. He couldn’t allow this… This was insubordination, wasn’t it? Yes, she was being difficult. And he was her superior. This couldn’t be allowed.
But she had a point. Damnit.
He pulled her hand from his mouth.
“You don’t need an answer.”
A hard slap connected with his face, driven by a great deal of impatience. “Fine. Now I just know you’re either unwilling to be honest with yourself or you’re unwilling to be honest with me.” Sintas shook her head. “You said you trusted me. In fact, you assured me that you did.” She tugged her hand a bit, still held from being taken off his mouth. “If that’s the case, I have other things to do… Now let go.”
Fandral held onto her hand, looking down at her. His expression had softened: instead of his scowl, his disappointment, he instead wore his disbelief and uncertainty. Though he tried to maintain an over-all stern look, it was almost difficult. This woman… He didn’t know how much he had given away about himself to her. She knew him. She had come to him as just another timid druid, reporting the happenings of her work, and had unknowingly become the unofficial advisor he most looked forward to meeting each day. And the days she didn’t show up were dull… But she was not timid anymore. She, like many others, had heard Fandral was difficult to speak to. But she had gotten past his height, past his personality. Now, she was able to strike back. No longer afraid, no longer concerned with what he would think. But past arguments had usually brought revelations about the argument’s subject to both of them, and they were… stronger for it.
Fandral watched the glints of amber in Sintas’ determined eyes. “You really do understand me, don’t you…”
She nodded. “Enough to figure that out.”
He looked to the dent in the wall. He hadn’t understood it at the time, why he had become so angry with such a simple situation as last night had been. Now he knew. He looked back to Sintas. She was still tugging on her hand, trying to pull it away. But her expression had changed to uncertainty. Whereas before, she was simply angry and frustrated with him, now she had lost her bit of command on the situation. Fandral was acting differently. She didn’t know what he would do next.
He lifted his free hand to her chin, setting his fingertips just under it to tilt her head up to his. Her eyes were special, and now he couldn’t escape them.
“F-Fandral?”
He leaned down, tearing them from his view as he closed his own golden eyes, pressing his lips to hers. Her face rose in temperature against his, her breath stuttering. Maybe she is still that timid druid of the first visit, unsure of how to react to my actions…
But why was she tapping his shoulder? Fandral pulled back, disappointed. He looked down at her for an explanation. She pointed repeatedly to the door.
Fandral looked to his left. The door had been left open. And standing in the door was a messenger. Fandral hardened his gaze, about to speak, but the messenger took off like a bolt of lightning down the walkway, dropping the note he had in his hand.
Sintas stared up at Fandral, cheeks flushed. Her lips were parted slightly, and she almost looked… Scared. Fandral blinked slowly. What was it he had done? It had just been…
Affection. She’s worried about me because I’m being affectionate.
Before he could speak, though, Sintas pulled back yet again, yanking her hand free of his and running out the door. She leapt over the railing of the walkway, disappearing from view. A storm crow glided away.
Fandral sighed, watching the bird disappear from view. He looked down, noticing the folded note the messenger had dropped. He bent over, picking the note from the floor and unfolding it.

Archdruid Fandral Staghelm:
You are reminded of

Fandral crushed the note in his palm, tossing it to the floor. He shut the door of his chamber, flicking his finger against the lock, which had dutifully latched. Pressing his fingertips against the door, he set off to pace across the chamber. You’re intelligent, Fandral. No one doubts it. Now, what do you do? He rubbed his beard. Smooth over relations, let it go, never mention it again, or simply move her to another part of the world? He frowned. But she’s good at what she does… And what she does is act as a messenger… Plus, she can heal anyone of just about anything, from the sound of it… He sighed. What to do… Smooth over relations? Yes, but how? Let it go? How the fel would he do that? Never mention it again? That may work…
Move her to another part of the world?
Fandral looked to the dent in the wall. No… Never.
He raised a brow, stopping his pacing. His fingertips rubbed his beard. Or… Pursue her. He bit the inner side of his lip. Bah. I’m too busy for her, though. She knows that… He sighed. And she didn’t look very pleased at my actions… Shaking his head, he pinched the bridge of his nose. And the council meeting. She had better attend.
He eyed the door of his chamber, striding towards it.