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“All I’m saying is they should have found someone who looks a little more like Greatfather Winter, that’s all,” Thassarian explained, hoping to forestall the argument he’d likely already provoked.
Koltira raised an eyebrow over his glass of hard cider. “Are you saying a blood elf can’t adequately portray the character?”
Thassarian gulped down more of his own drink, hoping the sweet burning sensation would wash away his ill-chosen words. It didn’t, so he let his glowing blue eyes wander over the festive crowd, trying to think of something he could say to pacify the other death knight.
It was the Feast of Winter Veil, and it seemed like all of Azeroth was celebrating. Thassarian and Koltira had paused at a refreshment stand in the city’s main square, mingling with the holiday revelers and watching the long line of children visiting ‘Greatfather Winter’ to tell him what they wanted for Winter Veil. In Thassarian’s opinion, however, the actor playing the beloved character was far from the optimum choice.
“It wasn’t meant as a slight against your people,” he said hastily. “It’s just…well, look at him, Koltira. He’s shorter than some of the kids, and he’s way too scrawny. Greatfather Winter is supposed to be big and jolly! And that beard is so obviously fake it wouldn’t fool a drunken ogre,” he pronounced. “They should have gotten someone who looks more like the traditional Greatfather Winter.”
His fellow death knight grinned. “Oh, you mean someone like you?”
Thassarian stared at his friend for a few seconds, then burst into laughter. “That’s a good one, ‘tira. That’s really good.”
Koltira’s smile widened. “No, I mean it. You’re tall, you’ve got white hair and a beard, and you’re certainly not scrawny. All you need is the outfit and you’d make a perfect Greatfather Winter.”
Thassarian snorted. “Sure, if I wouldn’t scare the children away.”
“Thass, we broke free from the Lich King’s control over twenty years ago. Knights of the Ebon Blade are common sights in Azeroth now. Most kids these days wouldn’t even know to be afraid of us.”
Thassarian considered this. Then he chuckled. “All right, ‘little boy’. Why don’t you sit on Greatfather Winter’s lap and tell me what you want for Winter Veil?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Koltira smirked. “Much as I would love to sit on your lap, we’re wearing far too many clothes for that, plus we’re in a public place. But don’t worry, I’ve already got what I want for Winter Veil.”
“And what is that?”
Koltira took one of Thassarian's hands in his. "I have you," he replied simply. "I have you, and I will never have to worry about you falling to the tyranny of human mortality." He gave the other man's hand a squeeze. "If we had met under…more normal circumstances…I would need to accept that I would eventually lose you to old age or disease. But being with you, and knowing that your lifespan is now equal to mine…that's the best gift I could ever imagine."
Even after all these years, Koltira could still touch Thassarian's heart like no-one else. He brought the blood elf's hand to his lips, kissing it. "And the best gift I could ever imagine, Koltira Deathweaver, is to spend the rest of my days with you."