"Explain to me one thing," Colin said, suddenly feeling quite bold. "The story goes that you died when still an infant."

The MacConnick looked up at his father. "Politics. My father was gaining favor among the Stormwind nobles and some thought to put an end to that. They planned to kill his wife and child." He looked down at his open hands, where one cupped the other. "My mother had her own plans. She induced an early birth and a dead newborn was put in my place. Suddenly everyone was very sympathetic."

Again he looked down at his hands and the memories of pain and loss he must have felt as a child flitted across his face. "I was raised on the darker side of the family blanket. I do know it broke her heart to have to give another child away."

"That first child was my ancestor," Colin whispered and coughed in his excitement. "Stories have come down how much he hated her for leaving him in the Stormwind orphanage."

The MacConnick met his eyes, then looked away. "I did get to meet her before she died," he said as he pulled a roll of paper from his vest. "This is a copy but it is true to my memory." He held it out to Colin, who took it with shaking hands.

What amazed him was how her general features had been passed down with little change through the years. Even his own daughter had the same brown hair with that maddening swirl at the forehead. And the same muddy brown eyes ringed with a darker shade that almost went to black. The shape of the eyebrows, the tilt of her nose ...

"Men often want women who look like their mothers," he said, frowning at the half breed.

"That was the first thing I noticed," he admitted. "But Tiergan isn't a copy of an Argel MacConnick who lost her parents to the Horde and grew up in the Stormwind orphanage. And who was recruited by the Thieves Guild."

"There is one thing I want to add to this conversation," the blood elf said. "Argel could not kill that child; she could not keep him. She wanted the best for him. And he turned out to not be the best human on this world ..."

The MacConnick made a wry face and a bitter smile flitted across his face as he turned to Colin. "But also consider you would not be here and neither would Tiergan," he said.

Colin turned his scrutiny to the Blood Elf, whose eyes were looking elsewhere; else-when. He felt sorry for the both of them and silently sent a prayer to the Light on their behalf.

"At the end of it all, I'm not the one you have to convince, Lord of Thieves," he said. "It's Tiergan's decision. I will warn you. You lie to her at your own peril. Even the angels will not save you."

"So you won't set against me," The MacConnick said and Colin could see the hope shining in his eyes.

"I will soon be dead and I do not wish my burial shroud to be splattered with your blood," he said. "I just hope I'll get a good seat to watch from - whether it's from hell or heaven."

The blood elf reached out and laid his hand on Colin's leg above his ankle and let it rest there for a moment. Colin could feel new life shining throughout his body. "Am I so near death, you must heal me so I will hear every word of your son's prepared speech?" The other man grinned and Colin could feel an answering wild joy dancing in his blood.

"Our family must be healed," the MacConnick said and Colin would bet that the other man's determination was as strong as his own. "My family is important to me and I want the two halves joined again. There's good people on both sides and I want none of that wasted."

"You have my blessing," Colin said. "I do feel more ... charitable towards you, but it is Tiergan's choice. It has to be."

The MacConnick sat up straight, his body taut with restrained excitement. "Shall I call her?"

Colin laughed and the pure merriment in the sound surprised even him. "Of course, but you do know she already knows."