Starting Over

The Odd Couple



Sophie woke with a start. She picked up her head and smiled. Her neck was a little stiff from sleep on Reg’s strong bicep, and they had their arms and legs intertwined. He was snoring gently. ‘I’m glad he doesn’t do that on missions…’ she snorted, thinking how that kind of noise could give away a persons location all too easily. Quietly she pulled out of his embrace and got out of bed. She was starving, and knew Reg had to be terribly hungry too.



She examined her cupboard over the small table in the room. It was charmed for food preservation, keeping any edibles at the ideal temperature and bacteria free. An expensive but handy asset to people like herself who came and went at odd intervals. Nissa had told her to feed Reg lightly, and she was sure the healer meant more than love juices. Sophie pulled out a couple bowls of steaming soup and a loaf of bread and set them on the table.



The man sat up in bed, sniffing. “Do I smell food?” he asked hopefully, swinging his legs around. He walked over to the table grinning and eyeing her and the soup over – the dwarf hadn’t bothered to dress and was still naked and delightfully un-self-conscious. The soup was hot and wet. Sophie had been that same way a short while ago.



“Aye,” she snickered. “I have a vested interest in keeping yer strength up, Reg.” She pulled out a couple spoons and gestured to the chairs, where he gratefully joined her. The pair of adventurers was comfortably quiet while eating their meal, simply enjoying the food and company without the hindrance of talk.



“So it was yesterday morning we were in Alterac?” Reg checked. The lack of windows in Ironforge, coupled with mind-blowing sex and an injury really messed with his sense of time. Sophie nodded. “Any plans for today?”



The hunter shrugged as she spooned up the last of her soup. “I suppose now is a good time for a bit ‘o talk,” she pondered. “I’m not gonna confess my undying love to ye, laddie. I’ve wanted this a long time, and I’m more glad than I can express.” She looked in his eyes to convey sincerity. “But as far as I’m concerned, any time ye are in town, my door and arms are open. I don’t want to be married; I don’t want to set up a home. But I have missed having a man in my bed.”



“Frankly, I’m surprised someone hasn’t grabbed you up, Sophie,” Reg admitted, sopping up the dregs with a hunk of bread. “You are quite the catch, and if I understand local gossip, you come from quite a desirable lineage.” He swallowed the last of the meal and leaned back in his chair, trying to keep his eyes off her very distracting breasts.



She gave a dismissive shrug. “Dwarven men are not complicated, Reg,” she sighed. “I had many offers of marriage after Stoney died. But they all meant the same thing – stay at home and have more sons. My people love their wives and children, but after Stoney, I just wanted more from my life.” She cleared off the tabled and discarded the dishes – the chute she dropped them in would recycle them. “I love being a hunter. Perhaps it’s selfish, but I love to explore and to help folks. I was a good wife for many decades – now it’s time to be a good hunter.”



Reg drummed his fingers on the table. “Ummm, about that family stuff…” he asked with a hint of embarrassment.



Sophie just smiled gently. “Thank ye for asking, but I use ‘the potion’. There will be no wee paladins scampering around. All us ladies in the Alliance do, Reg.” He gave her a quizzical look and she looked down sadly. “If a lady finds herself captured by the Horde, let’s just say death is preferable. Best to be on the potion in case...”



The paladin looked sincerely bothered by the reality of that statement. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He never envied the extra risks his female co-fighters took. After a pause he changed the subject. “I’ve just been staying at the inn here for the last year. I’d be honored to take up with you here when you are in town. I’m not looking for marriage either, and I don’t like catting around.”



“I’ll give ye a key to here,” Sophie smiled. “Ye can come and go as free as ye please. Just please don’t be getting your marvelous tadger into any trouble that comes along with ye to my bed.” Reg blushed deeply at the thought. “Ack – come now. I see how popular ye be – I’m not asking for commitment.”



“No,” he thought to himself. “But you have it anyway.”



“Anyway, for today I think you need to take it pretty easy, Reg,” Sophie said with concern. “You can hand in the books if ye wish, but I hope ye don’t tire yourself. We don’t both have to go, and I need to repair my armor and have my gun checked.” She gestured to the bathroom. “Before we leave, it’s another bath for ye, laddie. Use this though,” as she handed him a bar of soap he hadn’t noticed before.



“What is it?” he asked curiously, coming over to join her.



“It’s a scent neutralizer developed to keep other dwarves out of yer business,” she snickered. “If you do a simple quick scrub without it and head to the guild, every dwarf in the room will know what you’ve been doing and with whom before you’ve walked across the room.”



“You’re joking!” Reg paled at the thought. Every one-night stand was that easy to read for every dwarf? How humiliating.



“Don’t forget yer beard, luv,” Sophie chuckled and gave him a slap on the bum. And a squeeze for good measure.



Reg soaked in the tub alone while Sophie sat in a chair in the door way and chatted. The soap would have been useless if they shared the same bathwater, or got aroused while using it. “So with your nose so sensitive, how can you stand living in a city?” he asked with curiosity.



Sophie winced. “It takes some getting used to, Reg. From what I can figger, humans smell in black and white. It’s either a good smell, or offensive. Very few scents are neutral to ye.” She frowned trying to explain herself. “Most smells to a dwarf are neither yummy or yucky – they just tell us about the world. But when ye get to a city for the first time, it is overwhelming.”



“But you can identify the people in a room, and how many, and all kinds of information,” Reg pondered. “How do you tell them apart?”



She laughed at the difficulty in trying to describe colors to the blind. “Well, if we were in a pub, and the floozy in the corner was wearing really strong perfume, it would throw us off. But most folk in a mixed society understand dwarves don’t like that and keep it weak. She snapped her fingers. “I noticed last year in Stormwind ye enjoyed the orchestra playing while we was helping the guards. Ye mentioned the bassoon player obviously had a new reed in his instrument. How did ye know?”



“You could hear it!” Reg sputtered. “And the kettledrum had not been tuned recently!”



“Ah,” she agreed. “But to unlearned ears like mine, it just sounded nice. And I can not tell you a bassoon from a piccolo.”



“Oh!” the paladin looked at her with new respect. “You can smell all the different ‘instruments’, where to me it’s just one giant scent.” He stepped out of the tub and pulled the drain. “So how do I smell?”



Sophie gave a sad, unhappy sniff. “Very neutral” she sighed.



“We can fix that tonight,” he grinned, leaving the tub for her.



-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-





The guild was glad to see him. Devon, the guild master, was pleased to get the books and glad to see the job went off without a hitch. Reg didn’t bother to mention he had been carried back half dead from a poisoned blade. He sat at a table filling out the necessary paperwork, when Fury, one of the dwarven shadow-priests, sashayed by.



“Reg, I’ve missed you,” she purred, drawing a finger across his back seductively.



“Since when?” he asked curiously. He could recall casually flirting with her on occasion, like he did so many of the women in the guild, but nothing ever came of it. Flirtation was a favorite game for most of the members – it didn’t mean anything, but helped eased the tension of a danger-filled life.



She dropped on to the bench next to him and cuddled closer. Reg gave her a wink but returned to his parchments, trying to recall the body count of ogres in the assignment.



“Oh, I think about you a lot,” she purred. “Perhaps if you aren’t busy later we could meet up for a tankard?”



The paladin put his quill down and raised an eyebrow. Why the sudden interest? Fury had never taken him up on a drink in the past, and certainly never asked him. He noted her nostrils were flaring slightly and wondered what she was ‘reading’ with her nose. “Sorry,” he apologized, “I’ve got company tonight.”



Fury stood up gracefully and narrowed her eyes ever-so-slightly at him. “You don’t know what you are missing,” she murmured with a touch of steel. She then left, much to Reg’s relief. The short interchange gave him the willies.



Submitting the paperwork, Reg then decided to pay a visit to the healer to replace the expensive potion Sophie had given him on the field. He knew the potency of the healing potions the dwarf preferred, and didn’t wish for her to have to pay for a new one. He walked into the airy shop and smiled at Nissa, the healer.



“Reg!” she squealed. “What are you doing out of bed so soon?”



“Errr,” the paladin stammered, blushing furiously. Just how good were dwarven noses???



The healer grabbed him by the arm and gently pushed him into a chair. “I told Sophie to try and keep you in bed all today,” she scolded while pulling open the bewildered man’s eye lid and peering intently. Then she felt his forehead, and started to impatiently tap his chest piece like she wanted it removed.



Reg started to back away from the woman. “I just came to pick up a healing potion! I’m not sure what you two have been talking about!” he sputtered with a touch of fear.



“Aren’t you feeling well?” she asked with concern, ignoring his discomfort and peering into his ear. “You shouldn’t need another potion – we took care of the curse.”



“Curse? We? All righty, then. What happened last night?” Reg stood up, arms folded over his chest. He was an imposing figure when he chose to be. Though he had to admit he felt quite a bit of relief that the healer wasn’t talking about his sex life, but seemed to be concerned with his injury.



Nissa stopped her attempted exam and looked at him with a bewildered expression. “I think we need to start over, Reg dear. I’m sorry – I thought you came for a check-up.” She sat down on a chair and gestured to another across from her. Warily the paladin sat down, keeping his back straight and arms crossed in unmistakable body language. She took a deep breath, paused, shook her head and started over. “Hum. OK, what do you know about your injury?”



Reg paled a bit. What hadn’t Sophie told him? He felt ok – better than ok after all the sex. “She just said the blade was poisoned, so she brought me back here instead of letting me resurrect,” he replied, waiting for Nissa to fill in the blanks. “I thought it kind of strange at the time, but then we started talking about other things and I never pushed the point.” ‘Yah – talking. Heh – close enough,’ he inwardly smirked.



The healer gave a laugh. “No wonder you are confused,” she giggled. “Sorry about that. Well, since you are the patient, I’m not divulging any confidence, though Sophie probably should have told you. Perhaps she was embarrassed.”



‘About several things…’ he dryly thought.



“The blade was poisoned and cursed,” Nissa started to explain, but Reg interrupted.



“What kind of curse?” Curses could be bad. Very bad.



“It was a Troll Soulbinder,” she replied, and could see he knew what that was by the paleness that fell over his face.



“I almost really died?” he practically shouted.



Nissa shrugged. “Sophie had the presence of mind to bring you back, get me, and most importantly, bring back the knife. It took Brae and I several hours to heal and cleanse you.”



Reg fell back against the wall. “I owe her my life,” he stated. “Why didn’t she tell me?”



The healer shrugged again, and once again gestured for him to remove his chest piece so she could examine the wound. “You should be completely healed, Reg. I wasn’t expecting to see you again. Sophie probably didn’t want you to feel indebted to her – she’s quite independent.”



Armor off, the healer prodded and poked the barely visible scar and nodded with satisfaction. “Good as new, Reg. And since you are already running around, I suppose you are fine. But try not to tire yourself out.” He nodded dully as he pulled his chest piece back on. “Oh, and Reg?” she stopped him as he paid her for a new potion and started out the door. “I’m glad you two hooked up. Please don’t hurt Sophie – she’s my dearest friend.”



He gave her a startled look and blushed. Damn dwarven noses. She winked at him and pushed him out the door.



The paladin didn’t go far – he was a little tired and had a lot to think about. He summoned his horse and slowly rode out of the city-in-a-mountain to get some fresh air. Sitting still and quiet on Diamond’s back he breathed deeply of the crisp cold air and pondered.



Permanently dead. No talking to the Spirit, no saying good bye – just leave your body on the battle field and hope your mates make it back in one piece. It was hard to take risk seriously when death had little to no meaning, but if the Horde were using soulbinder blades, that brought a whole new angle to the war.



-.-.-.-.-.-.-



Sophie went to the guild after getting her repairs done. It was almost dinner time and the place was pretty empty. Devon waved her over and briefly thanked her for the recovery of the valuable books and gave her the next two days off. She sat to check over Reg’s paperwork and add any changes she could recall. With a sign she requested a private meeting with Devon – the use of soulbinder blades needed to be revealed.



“Why didn’t Reginald tell us this?” Devon flashed with anger. “This is critical information to the war!”



“Nay – do not be blaming Reg!” Sophie cried out, lifting her hands to placate her leader. “I dinnae tell him yet. The healer, priest and I patched him up, but it had no really sunk in. The three of us were up late working on Reg, and I was fair rattled!”



Devon calmed down and gestured his wife, the elf-druid Ascenta, over. He turned and faced the dwarf long enough to say, “we will discuss the implications, then probably send you and Reg out for reconnaissance in a few days. I suggest you find him and let him know, as this will be the subject of much discussion.” With a wave of his hand, she found herself dismissed. Humans and elves could be so stuffy and formal at times.



She gave a sigh as she headed for the door of the guild hall. Fury, one of Sophie’s least favorite guild mates, approached her before she could make her escape. “Ahhh,” the mage drawled after an exaggerated sniff. “You are the second person I’ve noticed with Scent Neutralizer. I wonder what’s going on?” and leered at the blushing hunter.



“Bugger off, child,” Sophie growled impatiently. Fury could be an absolute bitch at times. The priest had been attracted to the Flintmaker’s eldest son, and the parents had not encouraged the relationship. Fury might be a dwarf, but her inclinations tended toward the dark. She seemed at times to blame Sophie for her son’s disappearance.



Fury took one more slow and obvious intake of air and smiled a chilling smile at the hunter, before slinking away back into the room.



Sophie shook her head with distaste, as if it could wipe the image of Fury’s manipulative smirk from her brain. She stood outside the guild and touched the embroidered edge of her tabard’s collar concentrating on Reg. The message charm was activated and the dwarf got a clear image of the paladin being still in Ironforge, though the charm could not tell her his exact location. “Reg – can ye speak for a moment?” she sent through the magical communication device.



He came back immediately – his rich voice sounding through her fingertips and into her brain. “Sure Sophie – I’m not busy.” My – she had never communicated with someone she was intimate with before – the sensation was very erotic.



She gave a sigh and concentrated on her wording. “I need to tell ye more about your injury. Stuff I should have told ye before you left this morning. Can I meet ye?” The hunter was surprised to feel amusement coming across the connection.



“I probably know what it’s about, but sure. I’m just outside the main gates on Diamond.” And with that the connection was broken. Sophie summoned Mutton, mounted and trotted out the gates of the city, wondering how he had found out.



He wasn’t hard to spot – Diamond was standing proud on a small hill east of the entrance, his mane, tail and skirts blowing gently in the breeze. Sophie sniffed the crisp, cold air with delight, taking in the spicy pine and cleansing snow scents, flavored with the musk of Reg. The paladin was casually sitting astride the stallion looking over the valley below, and turned his head with a smile when he caught the sound of Mutton’s cloven hooves.



She pulled up next to him and remained quiet for a while, enjoying the smells from the countryside, blocking out the stench of the city behind. It was nice being mounted – the rams were so tall and hump-backed she was able to see Reg eye to eye for once. With a deep breath Sophie started to open her mouth, but her friend raised his hand to put her off.



“I know about the Soulbinder,” he said simply.



Sophie met his eyes with alarm, searching for signs of anger. “I was so caught up with the loving I simply got distracted, Reg,” she blushed, examining her gloves as an excuse for not meeting his look a second time. “I went to Devon privately and updated yer report. I let him know plain and simple you had not been told, but I would tell ye.” She looked at him quizzically. “How did ye find out?”



Reg gave a dry chuckle. “I appreciate you doing it discreetly.” He reached into a pouch and pulled out a healing potion and tossed it to her. “I went to replace this for you, and was practically undressed by your friend. It was an awkward first few minutes,” and he burst out into a hearty laugh at the memory.



She put the potion into her knapsack with a smile. “Ah Nissa – she probably figured us out once she saw your confusion.”



“Um, yes. I’ll say she did,” Reg shook his head with amusement. “Oh, and I’m afraid one of our priests might know what distracted you.”



“Ack – Fury!” Sophie spat. “She be a real bitch at times.” The dwarf looked over at Reg unhappily. “I dinnae why she keeps on at me all these years – I just wish she’d leave me alone.”



The paladin looked at her quizzically. “You know her from before you joined the guild?”



“Aye,” Sophie grimaced. “She was fair interested in me boy Flint. Although Stoney and me would nae have stopped Flint from taking up with her, we did voice our disapproval.”



Reg raised an eyebrow. “What’s wrong with Fury? Besides bitchiness, I mean.”



It was Sophie’s turn to laugh. “That was the most of our dislike – she has always been a volatile child – hot tempered, self-serving. Little Flinty was attracted to the ‘bad girl’ image, and the power she was displaying. She took up shadow casting quite young.” The dwarf’s gaze grew a bit unfocused as she gazed out at the clouds over the mountains across the valley, looking at memories more than the weather. “Rumors flew around Karanos that she should have been a warlock, drawn as she was to violence and power. We dinnae like the idea of our boy being with a dark-minded lady. Fury wanted us to welcome her to the family with open arms.”



Reg gazed at Sophie sadly. “What happened to your boys, Sophie?” he gently asked.



She shook her head, frowning at the memories. How do you convey years of heartache in a few minutes? But with a deep breath she started in, vowing silently to make it as brief as possible. “The Horde raided Karanos 11 years ago this October. I was out to a friend’s farm delivering some repair work with our boys, Flint and Spark. They were 19 and 18 at the time. We returned that evening to find the town in flames, as ye know. Stoney was dead, our home burned to the ground. As were many other homes that day.” Tears fell silently down her cheeks as she continued to gaze out across the expanse of time. “Friends took us in. We buried Stoney, and I started to plan where to live and what to do once I got my head together. The boys though, they took up with the other teens in town, most of who lost family that day. The lot of them found a drunkard ex-guard to give them the barest of training, and off they ran to avenge their daddy.”



“How much training?” Reg asked with horror. If you did not complete your training and get your certification from the Alliance officials, you did not gain the ability to resurrect! It was a major motivator to get people to sign up and serve. If you didn’t have the discipline to finish your training, you were not going to last long. Once dead, you stayed dead.



She gave an angry snort. “Nowhere nears enough. They bought cheap blades and barely knew which end of them to hold and which to slice with.” Furiously she scrubbed at her cheeks as if she could beat away the tears. “Me boys send letters weekly at first – boasting of their escapades and adventures. I begged them to return and do proper training, to put their momma’s heart at ease, but to no avail.”



Sophie gave a sob, no longer trying to hide her crying. Reg recalled the small portraits on a shelf he had observed in Sophie’s flat – a proud muscular dwarf and two young dwarven men, one with silver hair like his mother. He reined his horse closer and patted her hand sympathetically, trying to understand the horror of what his friend had gone through. The Horde had much to answer for.



The dwarven woman stilled her crying and dried her tears. “During this time Fury was over, nagging me daily about me boys. She would nae leave me alone! I don’t know how far she and Flint got in their relationship, but he never came home smelling of scent neutralizer, if ye catch me drift.” Sophie looked at him with a sad smile and a shrug. “I finally had to ask her to leave me be – if Flinty were interested, she’d be hearing from him. She dinnae take it well. I didn’t see or hear of her for years after that.”



He could well believe that, from what he knew of the sharp-tongued mage.



“After a year or so the letters from me boys simply stopped,” Sophie sighed. “Last I had heard the lot of the children had been up near the Hinterlands, picking off trolls. All our babies disappeared. Us mothers gave up, one at a time, and had to grieve again.”



“Did you ever find out what happened?” Reg asked with shock. But Sophie just silently shook her head in the negative.



“Ye can probably see why I took so long to find a friend to bed with,” she shrugged. “Most men want a wife, or a one-nighter. I don’t mind if you don’t want to come back to my bed, Reg, as long as I still have ye friendship and working relationship. But I dinnae want to give up the Alliance or have more babies.”



He was still holding her hand, grasping her fingers with tight compassion. “Am I the first since your husband died?” he asked with gentle disbelief.



“Aye,” she smiled softly. “Tis why I could nae keep me hands to meself. That and ye be terribly irresistible…” She gave him a saucy wink to break the tension of the moment. Sophie abruptly turned her head facing south, snuffing the air deeply. “Ah! Thunderbrew’s got his grill stoked! Are ye hungry, Reg?”



Though he couldn’t smell what she could, his stomach gave a loud rumble at the thought of food. They both burst out laughing.



“Do ye think Diamond can keep up with a dwarven ram down an icy slope?” she leered with a challenge. “Or be he all looks and show?”



“Hah!” the paladin barked out a challenging laugh. “Where to, m’lady?”



Sophie spun Mutton around and galloped down the road, calling “Karanos!” over her quickly retreating shoulder. With a grin Reg set off in hot pursuit.