He reached a hand up to smooth his moss-green mane, concerned that it might have become tangled during his pacing. He mused with himself for a moment, recalling that her hair was never out of place. If a strand were to jut out at any strange angle, though, he probably wouldn't have noticed it. He wondered how she accomplished anything while appearing so... Perfect.
A knock at his door. For once, Fandral was slightly startled. He strode over to the door, opening it.
A young messenger looked up at him, holding up a folded note. "Message for you, Archdruid."
Fandral scowled, snatching the note away. He reached into a bowl by the door and flicked a piece of silver from it to the messenger, closing the door again. Turning from the door, he unfolded the note bearing the seal of the high priestess.
Archdruid Fandral Staghelm,
You are reminded of the council meeting in two days time, to be on September third. You are expected to bring one representative from your respective group to meet concerning a matter of great--
Fandral tossed the note aside, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, Tyrande, I don't like the highborn either. Let's discuss something new next time, such as your lack of leadership, or your silly policies concerning--"
Another knock at the door.
Fandral spun around, stopping himself as he gripped the handle to let out a sigh, expelling the disgust the note brought him. He twisted the handle.
Sintas waved to him, blinking a bit at his still scowling face.
"Is something the matter, Fandral?"
He shook his head quickly, wiping away the expression. "No, not at all. Come in, I've matters to discuss with you."
She nodded, stepping into the room.
"I trust Saturna is well and received your report?"
Sintas nodded. "Yes, he said--"
"Good. There is an event soon I'd like you to attend with me." Fandral winced slightly, displeased with his speed of reaching his point.
Sintas nodded again. "I see. What is it?"
Determined to extend her time spent in his presence, Fandral shifted his jaw slightly. "A council meeting. I've been asked to bring my best representative along with me. That would be you."
She blinked, raising a brow. "I see--"
"And I would be terribly displeased if you did not attend."
Sintas frowned. "Yes, I understa--"
"It will be the third of September. Your calendar is clear on that day, I trust. I can't imagine you have any other--"
Sintas' hand shot up quickly to slap over Fandral's mouth, pressing on it.
"Fandral. Silence yourself a moment. If you would, I'd let you know that I wholeheartedly accept your invitation."
He blinked, taking her hand from his mouth. "Good. Well."
The two druids watched each other a moment. Sintas, to be sure he had no other attempts at assuring her attendance. Fandral, to figure out what she would do next after such a moment of spontaneity.
Sintas sighed. Fandral let her hand free of his grip.
"So..."
"Yes, Fandral?"
"You are able to attend on the--"
"Yes, Fandral."
Fandral shrugged his shoulders a bit, resettling his feathered spaulders. "Good. I shall expect you at the temple, then. Midnight."
Sintas quirked her brow. "Midnight? But the council meets an hour after that. You don't need to give me an hour to arrive, I'll get there on time."
He patted her head. "You were late to meet with me. I would hope the council would be important enough for you to arrive on time, but I can't be sure."
Sintas reached up, taking hold of his hand and lifting it away from her head. He frowned, looking at her questioningly.
"Don't do that."
"Why not?"
"It reminds me of someone."
He nodded. "My apologies... Might I ask who?"
She shook her head.
"I'd prefer that you don't, no."
Fandral looked around the room for a moment. What to do, what to do...
"Ah. Sintas. You are an enchantress, yes?"
Sintas nodded.
"Good. Come here a moment, I'd like you to tell me what you think about this artifact."
Fandral led her over to a table, opening the lacquer box on it. Inside glimmered a white gold, twisted pendant on a chain of matching metal. Sintas eyed the pendant curiously, reaching in to slide her fingertips along its smooth surface.
"What is this?"
Fandral lifted the pendant by its chain. "It is a gift to Tyrande from the highborn of Eldre'thalas. They hope to dazzle her with their magics and amulets to get a share of Darnassus for themselves."Sintas nodded. "Ah. You're suspicious, I presume."
He frowned. "Bah. You say that as though it's unjustified. I'd like for you to check this pendant for any unsavory spellwork."
She nodded, lifting her enchanting rod from its loop on her belt. "Very well."
Raising the rod over the pendant, she held her free hand under the pendant. The crystal focus of the rod, a perfect spike of Draenethyst, glimmered, picking up on the enchantments of the pendant. Slowly, bits of silvery light slipped out of the pendant, expanding into runes floating in the air. Sintas eyed each rune carefully, waving them aside one by one. Fandral watched closely. The glow of the runes, softly alighting her features. Each curve of her face lit as though a crescent--
The glowing stopped abruptly as Sintas nodded. "It's fine. There aren't any I was unable to identify, and they really are beneficial. Things such as memory charms. There were two of those... Oh, and a beauty charm." She smiled, placing her rod back on her belt. "Nothing to worry about with it. I'd say it's safe."
Fandral nodded. "Hrm. That's good. I suppose."
Sintas rolled her eyes. "You and Tyrande. Who needs the highborn to divide us?"
He quickly pointed to her, expression hardening into his usual scowl. "As though my distaste for that woman is unfounded! Bah!" He tossed his hands up. "Do you know how far we've come with her in charge? We haven't moved an inch since Stormrage left!"
Sintas frowned. "Look, Fandral, you're in control of a different part of the night elf forces. You don't have the same--"
"Vision! She lacks it! All we've done is give ground to the Horde in the name of peace! What kind of peace is it when we lose more and more of Ashenvale to the barbarians?"
Sintas glared at him. "Fandral, what would you have her do? Declare all-out war on a people who live so close to our own home? I think you underestimate her years of expe--"
"I don't CARE how many more years she has than me!" he snarled back, lips tight. "Is it my mistake that I was born on a certain date? No! Experience..." He spat. "All it means is one person has had more time to make the same mistakes repeatedly than another given person!"
Sintas frowned.
"By that logic, you don't trust me at all."
Fandral blinked. "What? No, I trust you."
She set her hands on her hips. "That doesn't make sense, Fandral."
He blinked again.
She sighed. "September third?"
Fandral nodded. "Imperative that you arrive."
"Of course."
Sintas turned, stepping over to the door. She turned the lock and twisted the handle, stepping out. Before closing the door, however, she looked back to Fandral.
"By the way, do I have an assignment or not?"
He thought for a moment. Sintas smirked; she received more assignments from the top of his head than any actual reasoning.
"Yes. Go see what the highborn are up to right now. They're lodged in the inn."
"Report back to you?"
"Indeed. Don't introduce yourself." He looked her over a bit. "And perhaps change into something less... obvious of druidism."
Sintas nodded. "Of course."
She closed the door behind her.
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