We Go Together

The teapot had long since stopped steaming.

Kymëra sat cross-legged on the floor near the low table, turning the small porcelain cup slowly between her fingers. Outside the window of The Steeping Moon, the city murmured in its usual evening rhythm — distant laughter, boots on stone, the faint clatter of the canal bridges closing for the night.

It was a comfortable kind of noise.

The kind that meant nothing unexpected was about to happen.

Across the room, Elaxin leaned against the windowsill, arms loosely folded, watching the canal lights reflect in the water below. The quiet strength of his posture and the steady presence that seemed to follow him wherever he went was something Kymëra had grown to appreciate.

Kymëra tilted her head thoughtfully.

“You know,” she said.

Elaxin didn’t turn yet. “That usually means trouble.”

“Not trouble,” she replied lightly. “Curiosity.”

That got a quiet breath of amusement from him.

She set the cup down.

“I’ve been thinking about something.”

Now he did turn, one brow lifting slightly. “That sounds worse.”

Kymëra smiled at that — the soft, unbothered kind that made it difficult to tell whether she was teasing him or entirely serious.

“I’ve never seen Silvermoon.”

The words hung there for a moment.

Outside, a pair of gryphons passed overhead, their shadows gliding briefly across the window.

Elaxin’s expression didn’t change immediately, but something in his posture sharpened.

“Silvermoon,” he repeated.

“Yes.” She reached for the teapot, out of habit more than need, as it was already empty. “Golden towers. Arcane terraces. The Sunwell humming like a kettle left on too long.”

She glanced up at him.

“Travellers talk about it all the time.”

“And you thought,” Elaxin said slowly, “you might simply walk into the capital of the sin’dorei.”

Kymëra shrugged gently.

“Well… when you say it like that, it does sound a little dramatic.”

He pushed away from the window, crossing the room with quiet, deliberate steps. There was something unmistakably protective in the way he moved. He stopped a few paces from her.

“You are Alliance.”

“Yes.”

“I am a worgen.”

She nodded.

“And you want to wander through Silvermoon.”

She tilted her head again, eyes warm.

“I want to see it.”

Elaxin ran a hand through his fur, exhaling softly through his nose.

“That city is not Stormwind. They will not greet us with open arms.”

Kymëra considered that.

“That is true,” she admitted.

Once, the Horde and the Alliance were bitter enemies across Azeroth. Crossing into one another’s cities was never even considered. Today, Stormwind and Orgrimmar still remain faction strongholds, but many other cities tolerate visitors from either side.

In recent years, things have grown quieter. Since the upheaval in Quel’Thalas, Silvermoon has cautiously opened much of the city — its gates and harbour alike — to the Alliance. Some streets, though, still bear only red banners, a clear signal that outsiders are not welcome.

Tolerance had grown in Azeroth. Trust had not.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then she added gently, “But the world is very large, Elaxin.” Her gaze drifted toward the window, where the canal lights shimmered. “And I did not leave Pandaria just to see one city.”

That was the heart of it. The wandering. The quiet curiosity that pulled her toward new roads and unfamiliar horizons.

Elaxin knew that look in her eyes by now. He had seen it the first time she stood at the harbour watching ships leave for distant coasts.

He rubbed the back of his neck, thinking.

“Silvermoon,” he murmured again.

Kymëra waited.

Finally, he looked down at her. “You should know something.”

“Oh?”

“If you walk into Silvermoon alone…” he said calmly, “you will last approximately six minutes before someone tries to arrest you, challenge you, or ask why a Pandaren is drinking tea in the middle of their courtyard.”

Kymëra blinked.

“…six minutes seems generous.”

Elaxin almost smiled.

“And if you wander somewhere we shouldn’t, the guards will remind you very quickly.”

“Then I will walk carefully,” she said. “And if I am chased out… at least I will have seen something beautiful.”

She paused a moment and looked up at him.

“Still,” she added softly, “journeys into uncertain places are often improved by good company.”

He sighed and shook his head slightly.

“You are impossible.”

“Frequently.”

Another quiet moment passed before he reached down and picked up her empty cup, setting it aside.

“If you go,” he said at last.

Kymëra looked up.

Elaxin’s voice was steady — the same tone he used when making a decision he had already accepted — as he reached for her paw.

“We go together.”

Her expression softened immediately.

“You’re sure?”

“No,” he replied honestly.

She laughed softly at that.

“But,” he continued, resting one hand lightly on the back of her chair, “if you insist on wandering into dangerous places out of curiosity…”

His golden eyes met hers.

“…someone should be there to make sure you come back out again.”

Kymëra reached for the teapot once more, peering inside as if hoping more tea might magically appear.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “Silvermoon does have very nice courtyards.”

Elaxin sighed.

“Kymëra.”

“Yes?”

“…we are bringing extra tea, aren’t we?”

Her smile widened.

“Oh, absolutely.”