Preparations. Ban had no idea where to begin. The house smelled of gun oil as Evelyn prepared, readying a pile of weapons that had once belonged to him. He guessed that in a roundabout way, they still did. He envied her, she had somethingto do. He didn't. He had no weapons. No special gear. It was just…him.
Board another boat. Return to Gilneas. Fight again. He shouldn't be looking forward to that, with all that he'd learned, he should be dreading it. War was hell, but the knowledge they were going filled him with a focus, a purpose, again.
Liberate Gilneas. It was a concept so large; he had trouble getting his mind around it. And he was going to be there… He and Evelyn, both. He moved to the doorway, studying her as she methodically moved through the task before her. "What?" She asked without looking up.
"Nothing. I wish there was something I could do."
"So the Sanctum is not working out?" Her voice was level, and he sighed in exasperation. How could he explain? Should he even bother? How could something he truly felt called to do, become such a chore? It was as if it died the moment someone tried to teach him to do it.
"Evie."
"Yes or no, Ban. Don't you Evie me."
"No." He responded, an edge of defiance in his voice, and that finally drew her gaze up. "I don't want to be an over glorified librarian in a purple dress!" The very idea of years of it, in spite of Genn's stated wishes, put Ban's teeth on edge.
She chuckled, returning her attention to the weapon across her knees. It was not the answer he'd been expecting, and he eyed her warily. He was on the verge of walking away from yet another school of magic more than willing to teach him, and she only laughed? "Evie?"
"Ban."
"I wish I could." He sat across from her. "I really do. I just…can't."
"So be it."
"Genn…"
She limbered the weapon, sighting down the barrel. "To hell with Genn." She stated coldly, and he blinked in disbelief. "You've fought for him. Bled for him. Run yourself into the ground for him. Played games for him. Given him a fortune. And you'll fight…again. How dare he ask for you to make yourself miserable? You'll find your way, Ban, when it's right. And this isn't right."
"Love you, Evie." He chuckled, and she merely glared at him in response.
"Someone has to look out for you." She muttered, replacing the long arm on the table. "You haven't been doing such a fine job of looking out for yourself lately." She answered his highly offended look with a half shrug. "Just letting you know."
"Bah." He replied, "I'm no hero. Never claimed I was."
She only nodded in answer, going on to the next pistol. He sighed, settling down in the chair next to the blessedly empty fireplace, his gaze locked on the windows facing the docks. So soon… He had thought it was difficult to be just dropped into conflict, but this waiting was a thousand times worse.
"We'll work it out after we liberate Gilneas." She stated, not a hint of doubt in her voice. Evelyn had always been the one who believed, concretely. He was the one who saw a myriad ways to fail. She only ever saw one way to succeed. "Would it be so bad to just be a merchant again?"
Yes. His soul whispered, and she glanced up again as if he'd spoken it. "Fine." She sighed, staring at the pile of weapons before her. "That is no place either one of us can go back to. Too much gone for that, for both of us."
"Exactly." He had been a poor excuse for a merchant before this, and now… Bram had been the merchant. He had the disposition for it, if not the gifts for it. Ban had the mind that put numbers in their place, made a ledger give up all of its secrets, but the day to day minutiae of the job was mind numbingly boring. And he'd had no intrinsic ability to choose stock that would sell, all he saw were things he'd want…and few people had his tastes. The plan had been that Bram and Evelyn would front the business, and Ban would handle the numbers side of it. "I don't know…Evie."
She shrugged, placing the final weapon down on the table and wiping gun oil from her fingers. "Right now I know all I need to. Tomorrow, we go after Gilneas. There's no point in worrying about a business that doesn't exist."
He sighed, shaking his head. She was a terrible pragmatist, always had been, and it looked as if she always would be. But he needed a level head, and she was his.
"Get some sleep, Ban." She said, and he gazed at her in disbelief. Sleep? Now? Now that there was a row of warships at dock, taking on supplies, as they spoke?
"There will be plenty of time to sleep on the passage over."
She grimaced at the words. She'd never been a good sailor, prone to seasickness. All of those beautiful days at Keel, she'd been happy to sit on the shore with his mother… while he and Bram learned the basics of sailing. "You are not my friend." She growled, and he grinned back at her.
"It's a much shorter trip than to and from Teldrassil." He offered gently, and she chuckled.
"True enough, and I wouldn't miss it for the world."
As he'd expected, sleep had escaped Banastre, and judging by Evelyn's appearance the next morning, had eluded her as well. She said nothing to him, merely clipping the leash to the furtive mastiff, and gathering up her pack and gun cases. He nodded, picking up his own very small pack and leading the way out into the streets. They were filled with people, and he could smell the heavy overtones of worgen…his people…his pack… in great numbers. For the first time since arriving at Stormwind, he felt...almost safe. He could hear the tones of Gilneas from so many of those on the narrow alleyways, so many were dressed correctly now. Ten thousand Gilneans, at Stormwind… It was time to get this done.
