The prompt: Write about something that really bothered you this week.
- Prompt #110, Creative Writing Prompts

"They went without me!" Arienne fumed, stamping her heel against the hewn stone of her floor.
"You mentioned that." The rogue looked nonplussed, sitting on the edge of a chaise in his mistress' dimly lit salon.
"Yes, but --!" She broke off, stalking across the room, lifting the gauzy curtain to look out the window at Shattrath's lower city. "They went. To Serpentshrine Cavern. Without me." The light coming through the thin slit of a window fell across Arienne's face, bisecting her left eye and her furrowed brow above it. "When you join an expeditionary force, it's with some expectation of sticking with it," she fumed. "I was good enough for Medivh's little tower; I was good enough for Gruul the Dragonkiller. They'd have been lost without me in Tempest Keep! Nobody knows Thalassian tactics like I do! But I'm not good enough to slaughter the Coilfang?" She whirled back around to face the silver haired rogue, curtain fluttering back down into place. He didn't look up from his work, delicately polishing a few freshly cut gems.
"You are good enough, Arienne," he said evenly. "It's obvious you have talent. The Scryers see it, A'dal sees it, and every dead foe you've left in your wake has seen it."
"So why leave me behind?"
"Because," he said, slowly seeming to grow frustrated. "We're building an army, Arienne." He paused, looking up to meet her glaring gaze. He was still wearing her livery. "Milady," he amended, then continued. "We're building an army to stand against the Legion, and that means every blade we can muster needs to be brought to bear. Every combatant needs to try his strength on something more substantial than helboars."
Arienne just looked annoyed. "But I want to contribute to that effort!"
"And sometimes that means standing back and letting those in command do their job."
The blood knight huffed. "I hope they come back to Shattrath licking their wounds."