The Patron of Teldrassil

Sintas Ilthalaine walked quickly along the path to the Cenarion Enclave in Darnassus. The iridescent flagstones pressed back against her feet, still sore from her long trek to the great tree upon which the city itself lay. She glanced up to the top of the archdruid's tree, curbing her inherent desire to simply marvel at the fact that night elves still retained the ability to dwell within living trees, even in these difficult days. She shook her head to herself at the sight of a silhouette in one of the top floor's windows. He wouldn't be happy with her tardiness, not one bit. But then again, what did make the man happy?
The fair druid sighed, finally reaching the ramp into the tree. She gave a hurried wave to each of the suppliers on the first level, offered a quick bow to Mathengryl on the second level, then scurried along the outer walkway that wound its way around the tree, leading her up to the top level. She raised a tired fist to knock on the door, but it struck air. The door was yanked open before she could offer her announcement of arrival, and worse, the visage that greeted her was none other than the stern gaze of one terribly displeased Archdruid Fandral Staghelm.
"You're late," he declared flatly.
Sintas sighed, nodding in resignation.
He rolled his eyes, setting a hand on her arm to usher her in. The door swung closed, rattling its frame slightly.
Sintas stepped over to a bench, ignoring the usual magical this-or-that sitting on the table next to the bench in favor of simply holding up a cloth-bound stack of papers to Staghelm. He snapped it up quickly, and then unwrapped it slowly as he spoke.
"Late, always late. I dare to wonder how well you plan on serving the Cenarion Circle when you cannot even show up on time. Wasting my time, wasting the Circle’s time."
Sintas remained silent, knowing nothing she could say would cause him to be any nicer towards her. She was all too familiar with his way of domineering conversations.
And yet, she thought, why wouldn't he? He is about eight feet tall, after all. Certainly, he must feel some sort of power over all others because of that alone.
Staghelm paged through the report, golden eyes scanning each hand-written paragraph. The discerning orbs flickered to Sintas' direction now and then, as if to be sure she was still sitting complacently, not about to argue with him. He dropped the report on the table abruptly, causing Sintas to jump.
"Skittish, as usual."
Sintas ventured a glance up at him. Such a stern visage, indeed! Staghelm’s eyes always read with a mixed expression. His was a demeanor of grief, lashed out at whoever strayed into his attention. He never seemed quite angry at her, but he certainly took it out on her. Only once had she seen him smile. It was a rare occurrence.
Sintas smiled up at him a bit.
"Only in your presence, Archdruid."
He scoffed, his voice irritated. "You've been calling me by first name for how long?"
She raised a brow. "...I thought you would like to be called by your title now and then. My apologies, Fandral."
He let out a heavy sigh. "Being addressed by my title simply spurs the instinct that I'm about to be requested to do something I wouldn't normally do. My first name is preferred." He looked her over a bit. "What progress has been made in Outland?"
Sintas shrugged. "Well... I've figured out a new path for one of the rivers... But the problem of it is that--"
"It's a dying planet. A speck of a grand world clinging to life, but losing its grip rapidly. Yes, I know."
Sintas sighed. Here he goes, she thought.
"Honestly, there shouldn't be any effort put into it. Let it die in peace. After all, it's not as though we would be losing anything or anyone important."
Sintas frowned. "Yes, I know your views on, how should I say it this time, anyone without long ears, tall stature, and at least nine thousand years of life lived."
Staghelm waved a dismissive hand. "On second thought, take Outland's business up with Saturna instead. He'd give you more satisfactory answers, undoubtedly."
Sintas leaned back on the wall behind the bench, frowning. She sat there for a moment, fidgeting with a feather on her kilt as Staghelm watched expectantly. She hesitantly opened her mouth to speak.
"Has there been any word from--"
"No."
She sighed. "It's been so long... I fear for him deeply."
Staghelm raised a brow, watching her carefully. "Yes, we are all concerned. Yet you look just as the high priestess does when he's discussed in her presence."
Sintas blushed.
Staghelm frowned. "Out with it."
Sintas shrugged. "I... Well, I've been spending the majority of my time in the Eastern Kingdoms, as you know."
"Get to the point. I'm the one who assigns your work, I know where you've been."
Sintas nodded quickly. "Yes. Well, the men there are rather... insufferable."
Staghelm blinked. "Ah. But you have... Whoever he is to protect you, yes?"
Sintas shook her head.
Staghelm's brows shot up.
"But I thought you had promised yourself to--"
"No," she said flatly, signaling her abhorrence to discussing the person further.
Staghelm eyed her a moment, then nodded slowly.
"I see..." He coughed. "Back to what you were saying earlier."
Sintas nodded, eyes on her hands, resting on her lap. "Yes. Anyways, many of them have approached me for..." She wrinkled her nose. "...Various purposes. Some of them elves, others humans. And I've given a few of them a chance. But... I've become convinced." She nodded purposefully.
Staghelm waited for her to continue. He drummed his fingers on his knee a moment.
"Convinced of what?"
"Convinced that..." She bit her lip. "That... None of them are..." She sighed. "I feel terrible. I feel as though I'm above every single one of them. I try to keep myself open to honest suggestions, but I can't help but feel as though--" She blinked, realizing Staghelm wore a wide, entertained smile. "What?"
Staghelm smirked. "Nothing, nothing. You're simply naïve, Sintas."
"Naïve? Of what?"
Staghelm looked about the room nonchalantly. "Of yourself. You haven't changed one bit in your life, so it seems to me."
Sintas frowned. "I'm well aware of myself. And you make sure of it when I slip up."
"I point out your flaws in the hopes you'll become the better for them. Surely you understand."
She sighed. "Of course." After a moment of thought, though, she blinked. "Wait. But if that's the case, what do you think of me?"
He met her confused gaze with a confident, thoughtful look of his own.
"The world knows not what it has been blessed with."
Sintas shifted a bit, having promptly become uncomfortable. "Ah. So... I am doing well in my works, yes? Is that what you mean?"
Staghelm watched her for a moment, relishing the uncertain expression on her face as she awaited his confirmation. He smiled.
"Yes, of course. You're a very talented druid, Sintas. No one is in a position to question that."
Sintas nodded slightly. "I-I see. It's good to hear such kind words from you, Fandral." She glanced at the door. "You have my next assignment, correct?"
Staghelm nodded, standing up. "Yes. I'd like you to deliver this report to Saturna. I have other business to attend to, another druid to meet with. Return to me once you've discussed the contents of the report with him."
Sintas smiled, assured now that nothing was amiss. "I'll make haste." She nodded, stepping to the door and turning the handle. She blinked, chiding herself mentally for forgetting to check the lock on the door. A quick turn of the lock, a twist of the handle, and the door opened.