Thassarian bowed, low and respectful, before stepping inside. It was not unlike his own home, and he was pleased to see it was being kept in good shape. He wasn't the cleanest creature, but he appreciated that things seemed orderly and in their places.
He smiled slightly, but it settled on his face oddly. He couldn't make it show in his eyes the way he ought to.
"Thank you, your highness."
He stands, albeit a bit awkwardly. He hardly knows how to behave around the living, at times. He can be friendly enough, certainly, but some part of him will always feel distinctly apart from them.
Perhaps it was the same thing that could almost feel Anduin's heart beating. Knew how simple it would be to snuff out the small flame of life. He would always struggle with such dark urges. This, too, was part of being what he was.
And yet, for all those dark parts of him that knew he could carve open Anduin's chest, another, stronger part of him, admired the spark of life in him.
He had heard that Anduin was gifted in the Light, and this, too, he admired. As much as he was a cruel being, driven to violence, he was a man of faith. He had seen the Light work. It was not simply something that he had prayed to, as a child. He was no paladin, no zealot, but he held within him a small bit of faith, of hope.
The smile didn't leave his face, and he nodded slightly.
"I...had heard you were here. I wished to see that you were well."
He was ever a soldier- sometimes nothing more than that. But he knew what was proper, what was polite, and that was to make himself known to Anduin. They had not been acquainted, before, but know Anduin was the closest thing he had to a king, to a crown to serve.
Odd, that he might find himself, again, in service to a prince.
The thought brought with it a deep sense of regret. He could still recall Arthas. How just, how right everything had seemed. He hadn't known- he had trusted, blindly. It had been his ruin, but was the sin in believing in something? He couldn't think that it honestly was.
So here he was, again.
Perhaps they had always been right abut him- he was nothing more than a follower.
"And I wanted to tell you that, should you need anything of me, it is yours. I'm afraid I don't have much but my blades, but I hope they will be enough."
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He smiled slightly, but it settled on his face oddly. He couldn't make it show in his eyes the way he ought to.
"Thank you, your highness."
He stands, albeit a bit awkwardly. He hardly knows how to behave around the living, at times. He can be friendly enough, certainly, but some part of him will always feel distinctly apart from them.
Perhaps it was the same thing that could almost feel Anduin's heart beating. Knew how simple it would be to snuff out the small flame of life. He would always struggle with such dark urges. This, too, was part of being what he was.
And yet, for all those dark parts of him that knew he could carve open Anduin's chest, another, stronger part of him, admired the spark of life in him.
He had heard that Anduin was gifted in the Light, and this, too, he admired. As much as he was a cruel being, driven to violence, he was a man of faith. He had seen the Light work. It was not simply something that he had prayed to, as a child. He was no paladin, no zealot, but he held within him a small bit of faith, of hope.
The smile didn't leave his face, and he nodded slightly.
"I...had heard you were here. I wished to see that you were well."
He was ever a soldier- sometimes nothing more than that. But he knew what was proper, what was polite, and that was to make himself known to Anduin. They had not been acquainted, before, but know Anduin was the closest thing he had to a king, to a crown to serve.
Odd, that he might find himself, again, in service to a prince.
The thought brought with it a deep sense of regret. He could still recall Arthas. How just, how right everything had seemed. He hadn't known- he had trusted, blindly. It had been his ruin, but was the sin in believing in something? He couldn't think that it honestly was.
So here he was, again.
Perhaps they had always been right abut him- he was nothing more than a follower.
"And I wanted to tell you that, should you need anything of me, it is yours. I'm afraid I don't have much but my blades, but I hope they will be enough."