Heroes and Heroines

"Nice place you've got here. Dark, gloomy, dank, and dismal, but nice."

It briefly occurred to Orphea that in that list of description, she'd used words beginning with "d" three times out of four, and if her father was really listening, he'd have picked up on that.

"Tell me, do they still leave the tribute at the front door? Or do you just zap it in?"

But of course, he wasn't listening. Not her father. Not the Raven Lord. If he'd done so much as utter a sentence to her now, he'd probably have said more to her now than he had over her entire life. But being the oldest, most powerful, most non-family friendly realm lord in the Nexus, all he could do was lead her through the corridors of Ravengarde.

Yes, least family friendly. Queen Neithis was freaky, but at least she produced more than one offspring. Least she cared for them. Least she didn't lead them down through dark, gloomy hallways, open wooden doors, and make a movement with her eyes for her to enter. Least she didn't-

"Neeve!"

All thoughts of her father and other, better realm lords left her mind as she ran over and hugged her guardian. A hug that was returned tenfold.

"Orphea! My dear, it's been so long."

"Only a few years." Orphea broke the embrace and looked at her father. "Doesn't compare to how long you've been around."

The words were directed to both of them. Neeve was well into her eighties, which was over twice as long as many of the denizens of the Raven Court lived on average. Her father…Storm, she had no idea how old he was, only that he was nearly as old as the Nexus itself.

"Oh my dear, I'm not that old," Neeve said. Orphea turned back to look at her guardian, who was still smiling. "Come on, I'll make you some biscuits."

Orphea returned the smile. She'd seen and done much over the last few years when she'd struck out on her own. But nothing could compare to Neeve's chocolate chip biscuits.

"There'll be none of that."

Thoughts of biscuits began to crumble, as two pairs of eyes turned towards the Raven Lord. One pair of eyes, old, wizened, and cruel, looked back at them.

"But my lord, your daughter…I thought…"

"If you want to treat her as a child, you may indulge her with tea." He shifted his gaze to Orphea. "But of course, you're not a child anymore Orphea, are you? Didn't you say as such when you ran away?"

She folded her arms and met her father's gaze with her own. Didn't say anything. Just stared. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Very well," Neeve said quietly. "And for you, my lord?"

"Wine." He used his magic to drag a chair over to the nearby table and collapsed into it.

"What kind of-"

"Good, old wine. Don't care where from, and I don't care who bottled it."

"Very well." Neeve gave Orphea one last smile, and shuffled out of the room.

"Make sure the tea has milk in it," she whispered. "And sugar."

Had Neeve heard that before she exited the room? She didn't know. She supposed she'd find out within the next five to ten minutes.

"Sit."

She looked at her father. He was sitting in his seat. On the other side of the table, besides the crackling fire, was another chair. One smaller and less comfortable looking.

"Sit," her father said.

She folded her arms. She wasn't going to-

She sat down as with a wave of his hand, her father forced her into the chair. She opened her mouth to speak, but the realm lord before her beat her to it.

"Disobey me again, and I'll bind you."

"How considerate of you."

"Speak out of turn again, and I'll gag you." She opened her mouth anyway, but he continued speaking. "And before you use that venomous tongue of yours, bear in mind that I'm not above having it removed."

Her mouth was still open. The look in her father's eyes…the Raven Lord was many things (father, bastard, tyrant, monster), but he wasn't a liar.

"How considerate of you," she murmured.

She waited for the feeling of her tongue leaving her body. Of any kind of them being done to her that was no different to what the Raven Lord did to anyone who attempted to defy him. With the exception of the Grave Keeper, who still held onto his territory at the Cursed Mines, no-one defied him for long. Whereas in contrast, the punishment for such defiance was long.

"Why are you here, Orphea?"

She blinked. She'd been thinking of when her father had sent his knights to peel the skin off Lord Poe. "Pardon?"

Poe hadn't died well.

"Why are you here?" her father asked.

He'd died screaming actually.

"Why do you ask?" she murmured. "I thought you wanted me brought here."

"Wanted you brought here, yes. But I haven't survived the ages by being foolish."

Could have fooled me.

"So before I decide what to do with you, let's entertain the pretext of giving me the respect I deserve, and tell me, why are you here?"

Orphea didn't say anything. Which might have mattered more if Neeve didn't enter the room with a tray – one cup of tea, one empty glass, and one bottle of wine. She set it down on the table.

"Thank you Neeve," Orphea said. Her guardian smiled, but looked at her master.

"Shall I pour it for you my-"

With a flash of light, part of the wine in the bottle vanished, and reappeared in the wine. Orphea watched her father drain half of it.

"That will be all Neeve."

She nodded and headed out again. Orphea took a sip of the tea.

"It's quite-"

But the door was closed. Clearly Neeve, despite her fondness for her ward, didn't want to spend any longer in the room than she had to.

"She spoils you," her father said, looking at his daughter with contempt. "She always spoiled to."

Orphea couldn't blame her for wanting to leave. "Least she did something for me."

"I have done more for you than you could ever imagine. I've defeated usurpers, fought the Storm, kept order in the-"

"Name one thing you did to benefit me that didn't benefit yourself as well." Orphea sipped the tea. "One. Single. Thing."

She watched her father open his mouth, then close it. Watched as he finished off the other half of the wine. Watched as this time, he slowly poured it into the glass.

Crystal. Of course it's crystal.

Watched as he swilled it around.

Love to smash it.

"You didn't answer my question," her father said. "Why are you here?"

And you didn't answer mine.

She didn't say that. She wanted to, but while she'd been in this world (worlds?) for only ten and six years, she knew when to bide her time. So she decided to answer. "I'm here, because while I'd love nothing more than to see all manner of horrible things happen to you, you need my help."

The Raven Lord spat out the wine, spluttering. She watched with contempt as she saw the red liquid be absorbed into the table's wood.

"I…I need your help?" he spluttered. To her continued contempt, she saw that the bastard was actually laughing. "Oh daughter, that's the reason I brought you into this world. Moments like this!" He poured himself some more wine. "Oh, if only your tongue could dance like that more often."

"I wasn't joking."

"I know you weren't. That's why I find it so funny." He took a sip – the bottle was down to only one quarter full (or three quarters empty if she was that kind of person). She watched as her father composed himself. "But very well. Let's entertain the notion I need you for anything other than being a harlequin." He leant back in his chair, swilling the wine around like a vampire of the Raven Court might blood. "Indulge me."

She folded her arms. "I have power. Lots of it. That gift to me has at least been useful."

"In case you've forgotten, I've no shortage of personal power, nor power over others."

"Ah yes, the others. The heroes plucked from worlds outside the Nexus. The ones who'll serve you as readily as your rivals."

"The heroes fight as directed. Given the threat the Nexus faces, we…I…can count on them to pick the right side."

"Can you?" Orphea asked. "Are these the same heroes who will still fight for the Grave Keeper? Are these the same heroes who, even now, do battle with you at Alterac Valley?" She saw her father open his mouth but she pressed on. "Yes, yes, I know that orcs and humans dying by the hundreds means nothing to you, but perhaps you've considered that after ending one war with the Grave Keeper, you've started another with the Lady of Thorns?"

…I'm aware of that."

"Yes, and so am I." She took another sip of tea, making a mental note to thank Neeve, because by the Storm, it tasted excellent. Drinking it gave her the time to pick her next words carefully.

"Here's the thing, Father. These heroes? You can coerce them into serving you, but you'll never gain their loyalty. Not in the long term anyway."

"A lesson I learnt with you," her father said slowly. "But go on."

"Well, the question must be asked, why should they give it? The Nexus isn't their home. They come from worlds beyond ours, and many of them would prefer to return to them. They might fight for the Nexus in the coming battles, but only out of self-preservation. But…"

"But?"

"But, I must point out that I'm not like them. The Nexus is my home. As much as I'd prefer to stay alive, I can at least appreciate the worth of ensuring that future generations continue to enjoy the world…worlds…that we do." She narrowed her gaze. "Even under tyrants like yourself."

"Amusing." She watched her father pretend to not be interested. "So, in your childish mind, you think that I need your help because you have the proper motivation to fight for this place?"

Trying, and failing. "Proper motivation, along with the powers to make that motivation actually count for something. After all, many of your subjects have the motivation to de-throne you, but lack the power." She took another sip. "In contrast, your 'heroes' that you and the other realm lords are so fond of playing with?"

"Power, but no motivation." The Raven Lord put a hand to his chin. "Perhaps you do have some worth in this world, Orphea."

"Really?" She finished off her tea. "How kind of you."

"I can give compliments on the rare occasion that they're earned."

"True. Shame my mother couldn't have given me the same courtesy."

If she'd mentioned her mother earlier on in the conversation, there was a strong chance that her tongue would have been fed to the dogs by now. But that wouldn't happen. Not now. The gears in her father's head were whirring to fast to do anything that drastic.

"Get out," he whispered.

"Get out?" she parroted. "As in, leave the tower? Or this room?"

"Get. Out," he said again.

"Need to be more specific father."

"Leave this room. Do not speak to me again until I have need of your services." He got to his feet, and she did hers. Her father was already taller than her, she didn't want to give him any more of an advantage than he already had.

"A service," she said. "Well, that's fair. How many people of the Raven Court have you already pressedinto service?"

"More than you will ever know or care to thank. And before you play the game of moral outrage, if I hadn't done the things I had, you would have never come into this world." He paused. "Blood is on both our hands Orphea. Far more blood will be on them before the Darkness is defeated."

"Is that what you're calling it? Really?"

"Leave me," he said. He slumped down in his seat. "If you're to be one of my Heroes of the Storm, I suggest you prepare yourself."

She could have pointed out that her travels through the Nexus had prepared her just fine. But she didn't. She'd said what she had to. She'd had her fun. Come a time in the future, but for now, the fun had ended.

All that was left for her to do was leave, not look back, and find her way to Neeve. Cookies being the main reason.

Other reasons…She sighed, and quickened her pace.

Those other reasons were much more complicated.

A/N

So, in recent times, there's been a lot of talk about the notion of original Nexus heroes, and if they're implemented, who they should be. I've given my thoughts on the matter elsewhere, so won't bore you with them here. That said, I figure that if they are added, Orphea's the logical choice. So in that context, drabbled this up. And yes, obviously I'm making complete shots in the dark as to her backstory and her relationship with the Raven Lord, but...creative licence. Shadup.