As a women during this time, with very few rights or power, you were considered defenseless to most. It helped slightly that you had social status, and were given a good education.
That didn’t mean that with your tightened corset and heavy dressing that you could be protected from the world around you.
You thought about this often. How unfair it was that most men didn’t have to feel the consistent fear, the vulnerability of having to depend on the opposite sex. Most men talked down upon women with little to know power if the women allowed it.
That’s why, you were so happy to have found someone who treated you with this much respect, who treated you as an intellectual equal.
You had remembered stepping out of your carriage that one faithful Saturday. Philip had already been outside, waiting. You remembered the smile that appeared on his face as he walked over and opened the door for you, offering you help out of the carriage and nodding when you politely declined.
You stepped out, the door having already been shut behind you. Phillip turned to you, a grin on his freckled face as grabbed your hand and kissed it. “Hello Y/N.”
“Hello Philip.” You smiled. a slight blush grazing your face.
“How would you like to start today? Inside or would you like to go on a walk?” He asked, allowing you the choice.
“A walk would be lovely.”
That was nearly half a year ago though. You had both continued with this, sending letters back and forth, going on walks, sometimes sitting together for a meal or going to balls to dance. Sometimes just dancing because you wanted to.
Most of the time on these walks you would discuss and have debates one the discussions others wouldn’t include them in. At the young age of nineteen, just beginning with more serious careers, it was hard to get respect, that’s why Philip wasn’t allowed in most discussions except with relatives who realized his potential.
You weren’t allowed in for the sake of your sex.
It was refreshing for the both of you. You saw each other on an equal level, he did let his ego get ahead of himself at times, trying to give himself a boost of reassurance in debates, but unlike most he would realize this and even apologize at times.
That was always the best part.
During those times in his letters he would write you poems. You fell deeper in love with each word, with every poem. Every single one adding to the bridge that led a path from your heart to his hands.
You had fallen face first into love, and it had hit you as hard as a wave crashing in.
It wasn’t just that either. Being with him made you feel suddenly more safe. You felt stronger. Less vulnerable.
It wasn’t just how he treated you equally. No one bothered you when you were with him. No more catcalling, or getting harassed in public.
You was exhilarating.
Months later, you were courting each other. You would continue your walks, your discussions, everything.
You were both so happy. You had someone beside you no matter what. Someone to sing with, to laugh with, to dance with.
Then suddenly you were left alone, and vulnerable again.
Can you guys guess what happened?
I bet you know what happened. I didn’t add the sadness to it because I wanted this to be here for the people who want to keep the fluff, but if you want to see what happens next then feel free to request it!
Mar rubbed the back of her head, it was a gesture of helplessness, so very unfitting for the woman who usually was so strict following rules and codex that there was never time for helpessness. The moment she realized what she was doing she gave a jerk, like a deer caught in a trap and promptly stiffed her standing:
“Before the Cataclysm…you might remember the time when there were earthquakes shaking the ground but beside this earthquakes and the feeling that something was wrong, there were no catastrophes yet.” Mar cleared her throat a little too loud to make the sound appear natural, than she crossed her arms behind her back as if she was a soldier saluting, in a try to appear taller and with that more confident:
“Everyone was scared, of course. Scared and panicky waiting for what would come after the earthquakes. Around this time a orcshaman, who was worried for her family living on a small Farm in Ashenvale, asked for my help, because the earthquakes had destroyed their farmland and she couldn´t ask the elements for help. Since already some years they were in conflict with a Nigtelffarmer about the border of their land. All in all a suprisingly peaceful conflict actually, they would roll another rocks on the fields or in the night or destroy another the harvesters or throw the cattles dung after another.. . After all, they were just farmers…”
“Anyway, with the Cataclysms earthquakes the farmland had suddenly become smaller and the Kaldoreifarmer had one night stolen crop from the Orcfamily for he insisted those had grown on his part of the land.” Once again the Halforc cleared ther throat, before one of her hands nervously fumbled after the Hood of her Gugel and pulled it down in her face: “Long story said short, the Orcfamily send me out. So I visited him, took back the crop, destroyed his harvesters and give the man a real scare with my swordblade on his throat. I didn´t killed him since I thought…well, he was a farmer.They all were. Nothing more.When this was done I returned to the Orcfamily, fetched my payment and traveled back to Ogrimmar.” In the shadow the hood was drawing on her face Mar closed her eyes, her jaws were cramped, her body tensed as if the words she spoke had stuck in her flesh like a thick thorn that she tried to pull out, but by now it had dig too deep in her skin, her flesh, her muscles, her soul:
“A few days later I was told that the same Farmer hired a group of Nigtelfwarriors and let them slaughter the Orcfamily. Even the children.”