The gnome grunted as he bent down to retrieve a dropped tool, his small hand lifting it as he straightened up and leaned over the work table. The little device shot a spark of electricity into the open box of Beckyann's comm device, making it give a slight hiss of static. The gnome nodded to himself in satisfaction while the death knight stood on the other side of the counter, her arms folded across the front of her dress and her eyes watching the little person's movements through her green-tinted eyewear.
After a few more sparks, the gnome nodded again and looked up at the woman, smiling, "Yeah, I think I can fix this. You should be more careful with your things though, not everyone has the fortune of owning nice things."
Beckyann grinned, a small chuckle escaping her. She shook her head, as if thinking of a joke that only she would get. Curious, the gnome looked up at her, pausing in his work. "What'd I say?"
The blonde woman merely smiled and shrugged, her arms uncrossing as she spoke, "I do believe my mother used to say that exact same thing to me."
The gnome grinned at the dead woman and nodded, placing his tool on the worktable and adjusting the over-sized goggles he had on his head that he'd been using to magnify the inner workings of the comm device. "You know, if ya don't mind, I'd really like to know what your mother was like. I never figured that a..uh...well, you know, one of your kind, had a mother. I guess they all did right?"
For a moment Beckyann fell silent. The gnome could not exactly make out the emotion on her face due to the glasses that hid her eyes, but the angle of her head seemed to show that she was looking past him. Her voice came out, almost distant, "She...she was a very loving woman. I-I remember..."
Curious, the gnome encouraged Beckyann in a soft tone, "It's alright miss. Memories can be good things. What do you remember?"
A soft sigh escaped the death knight as she actually took in a deep breath and let it escape. Her voice remained distant, as if she were struggling to recall something from long ago, "I remember that she used to bake for us. For my father and I. She made the most delicious pies, a-and dinnertime was always special. We didn't have that much coin you see? But she always did her best to make things that would be bland taste wonderful. It was almost like an art to her."
The gnome smiled and replied, "Sounds wonderful! What did she do for a living? You seemed awfully curious about the things in my shop when you came in here."
Beckyann's head tilted and the gnome could tell she was looking at him now, in the present. Her voice was more sturdy as she controlled the flow of memories, "Oh yes. She and my father were both tinkerers and menders. It is how we scraped by. They could fix pots, sharpen your knives, repair a few small gadgets here and there. We were poor, but we lived in a wonderful place called Corin's Crossing. Our neighbors were always there for us, to share and help. They knew how my parents struggled, and they knew how helpful both were to the town. My mother was also skilled in sewing and tailoring and would help mend clothes for the local women. Really both of my parents did any work they could to get by."
The gnome smiled at this, nodding. "Sounds a lot like my family! Although they were able to teach me enough 'bout engineering to open up my own shop here in Stormwind! I suppose you must be pretty handy with things too eh?"
Beckyann laughed outright at this, shaking her head and setting her blonde hair to bouncing around her face, "Oh heavens no! My mother told me that I might as well have been born with four feet since my two hands weren't much use! I fear I was a most disappointing child, always getting into one disaster after another and tearing and staining what little clothing I possessed. My mother always chided me to take better care of my things. She never let me forget that we had very little, and we needed to treasure each and every thing we owned even if our neighbors might have better."
The gnome laughed at this, bending down over the comm device again, "Sounds like she was a very wise woman Miss Eastberg. You had a blessed childhood."
Beckyann's voice drifted over him while he worked, the distant tone making him pause, "Y-yes. I loved her very much I remember..."
The gnome looked up, frowning slightly and pushing his goggles out of the way as he met Beckyann's gaze through her glasses, "I'm sorry Miss Eastberg. Did she...that is, the plague..?"
Beckyann shook her head slowly, and the gnome shivered as he felt and almost undefinable gulf open between the two, even though nothing had changed. Her voice came out hollow and echoing, like a forlorn spirit now, "No. Mother and father passed away when I was seventeen. A flu you see. There was little that the healers in the Crossing could do, and we didn't have the coin to send away for one from Stratholme."
The gnome winced, shaking his head slowly, "I'm sorry to hear that Miss Eastberg."
Beckyann sighed, shaking her head. She turned as if to leave the store, pausing to speak one last time, "It is for the best. We did not have enough coin to make a proper grave for them. I had to give their bodies to the pyre, and in the end, it saved them from being raised when the Scourge came to the Crossing. I know that somewhere they are together and at peace, even if I will never see them again."
Sighing, the gnome shook his head, "You shouldn't say such things Miss Eastberg. I'm sure you will be reunited with them one day."
The blonde woman turned, a hand coming up to push her glasses up. Her glowing blue eyes studied the engineer for a moment before she shook her head, "No. I am bereft of my hereafter. They would not know me now. I...have to go for a bit. I will return in an hour to pick up the comm. Thank you for your help."
Returning her glasses to their place, she reached down to her coin purse. To her surprise, the gnome leaned over his worktable, his hand grasping hers to stop her. "No need for that Miss Eastberg. Consider it a favor hmm? I'll have it fixed up for you in a jiffy."
The death knight nodded wordlessly, a hint of thanks in her expression as she turned and walked from the shop, her skirts swirling around her ankles. The gnome shook his head and sighed again after she was gone, staring at the doorway where she'd been, "Poor thing. Don't think folks understand their kind too well. Everyone's got a mother after all!"
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