Recycling

“Is it morbid that we hang onto so much stuff that belonged to our dead companions?”  Ambrosine rested her hands on her hips as she stared at clutter in her basement.

The house itself was a relic of the dead–a small manor house in Stormwind, as opposed to the farm she actually lived on. It had belonged to her cousin, before she’d been murdered. Ambrosine couldn’t bring herself to sell it, but neither could she live there.

Thus, the basement full of stuff.

“I do not think morbid is the term I would use,” Mina said, clambering up a stack of boxes. “We miss them, so we cannot bear to part with all of their things. Now, what is it we are looking for again?”

“Vainglory’s armor. I know there’s at two sets back here somewhere.”

“Ah yes. She had her fancy set, yes? For when she was being Fancy Commander? And then what she actually fought in. That was not destroyed when she was killed?”

Ambrosine walked around the stack of boxes like a normal person, and began pulling sheets off armor stands. “No, she was in civvies. Her armor should all be in good shape.” The first stands she’d uncovered had been empty, actually. They’d stored Illy’s things down here until the warrior had made her improbable return. That’s probably what those had been. The next stands–

Ambrosine froze as the sheets hit the ground.

She remained that way until Mina landed next to her with a thud, and recovered the gleaming plate. “Ssh, sssh. Ambrosine. It is okay. Ambrosine? Here. You go sit down, and I will find it.”

The druid nudged and pushed the death knight over to a dusty chair and sat her down. Then Mina made sure that all sign of Ambrosine’s old, paladin stuff was out of sight before she resumed the hunt. “Here, there are more large things under cloth! They must be Vee’s, yes? They are tall and–yes! Here they are. Two sets of armor for one draenei death knight. You should give the fancy set to your friend first, as a joke. Right? That would be funny.”

“No, I don’t think it would.”

Mina glanced over her should and frowned. Ambrosine was looking at the ground more than anything.

“If your old things trouble you, why do you still keep them?”

“Same reason we keep the rest of the stuff,” Ambrosine said softly. “Mourning.” Abruptly she stood, slapping imaginary dust off her hands. “Okay! So we just need to pull that armor out of here and get it to Illy. Then I’ll track down Aunne at some point, because I’m sure Illy doesn’t want to make adjustments blind. But maybe a stiff drink before all of that, aye?”

“No.” Mina walked over to Ambrosine.

“Yes,” Ambrosine started to turn and head upstairs, but the Kaldorei–who, while small for her people, was still taller than Ambrosine–grabbed her and turned her back around.

Mina leaned down so that her face was close to Ambrosine’s. “No.”

And Ambrosine, who had had similar discussions with Jamethera, swallowed her hypocrisy. At least, for the moment. “Fine. But you get to wrap that armor back up while I call Illy and let her know we’re coming.”

Knowing she’d won, Mina’s sunny demeanor returned instantly. “Okay!”