This is my first WoW story, so I am sorry if any of the Lore is a little off. PLEASE no flames. I did a lot of research, but I know slip ups happen! Obviously this never happened nor did Kael really have a sister (that I know of) but that's why its FanFICTION. lol
I am also aware that in the game, Night Elves cannot be warlocks. But for the sake of my story....pretend. Thanks =)
I have been working on this for quite some time now. Went back and forth about oneshot or chappie fic. Went with the latter =)
Alcmene (al-k-ME-nay) not based off of a character, name of greek hero Hercules' mother
Amathan- my boyfriend's character, although in the game he is an Orc, not Night Elf, but I changed it with his permission for the story.
Please read and review! More to come soon, now that its summertime!
I DO NOT own Warcraft or the preexisting characters nor am I affiliated with Blizzard (accept for the fact that I play WoW teeheehee)
The long desired quest for peace would never be fulfilled. Peace could not exist as long as the Horde and Alliance continued to fight day and night, rain or shine. The ever-impending threat of a raid on their cities left the princess of the Blood Elves prepared for anything.
As the young sister of the esteemed Prince Kael'thas Sunstrider, Alcmene was sheltered beyond imagine. Since she had been a small girl, her very existence and identity had been kept secret. It was believed by most that she had died in the infamous Scourge attack. Very few knew her true identity. Most just assumed she was affluent based off of the exquisite robes she often wore. She was considered beautiful and charming among those who knew her with her slender frame and always cheerful appearance. Her long flowing blonde hair was typical for her kind but shimmered with distinct regal luster. Kael had received and declined several offers for her hand in marriage, though the authors never knew to whom they were truly addressing.
Though she was a fair maiden now, she was treated more like an infant. A vast array of guards surrounded her at all times. She had scarcely been permitted out of the palace in Silvermoon her entire life. The face of her brother was dwindling, as she had not seen him since she had been a toddler. Her faith in his abilities never faded, however, for she believed in him. One day she could help lead their people to the lands he promised them.
Though she was not allowed to wander the streets freely, Kael had recently allowed her to begin training whichever class she desired. She had chosen the ways of a paladin, believing it to be her calling. The blend of magic with close range fighting seemed to be fitting for her personality. No other title seemed to satisfy her. It was her destiny.
Kael wrote to her often, sometimes sending flight paths or routes being taken by nearby Alliance forces. He had many spies in the area and had recently written to the city's current overseer of defense and Alcmene's caretaker, Jahnin. The letter warned of a possible Night Elf attack on the city, which Jahnin promptly dismissed, thinking a loosely banded guild of other elves would not unite and attack other elves without just cause. Surely they wouldn't dare risk such heavy losses. The Blood Elves had grown numerous and had been keeping to themselves, mind the help from the Forsaken.
But the Prince's sources and spies had been right and the largest band of Night Elves the city had ever seen now snapped at the city gates. Archers' bows failed to penetrate the waves of attackers as they slammed the walls and outlying defenses. These were highly skilled and trained Night Elves, not the poorly equipped and organized lot the city had been accustomed to fighting. The force moved with fluidity and poise throughout the city, acting as a unit of power.
It was only a matter of time before they made their way to the palace, as they often did. Alcmene dashed from her window where she had been watching the battles to her hiding place. Her miniature army took their places nearby.
Curled in a ball with her knees under her chin, the princess closed her eyes and waited. She envisioned a happier place, where she could be freed from all of this routine and fighting. The Alliance's never-ending need for Blood Elf blood was enraging.
Then, she flew open her eyes to the sounds of swords parrying and shouts echoing in her halls. Usually the intruders bypassed her room altogether and her hiding was simply a formality. Her heart beat faster. Something felt off. Something wasn't right. Just as she took a deep breath, the door to her hiding passage flew open and a flailing maid reached inside. She fell, part of her upper body landing inside the compartments.
"Leayna!" cried the princess. She scurried out from her sanctuary to help her exasperated servant. Examining her frame in the light from the hall windows, Alcmene saw that she was not really wounded but simply perplexed and confused. Regardless, she placed a calming spell on the distressed maid. Alcmene propped Leavna up against the window seat and tried to reason with her. Glancing around for an instant, she saw that her guards were no where to be seen.
"Leayna, what have you seen? Are you alright? What must you tell me?" she asked, sensing the urgency growing in the maid's eyes.
"Princess…." She sputtered, eyes wide. "They….are…." she collapsed again on the floor.
Alcmene did not even need to turn to hear the clanging and rustle of Night Elf attackers looming behind her. As they neared her and her fainted servant, she gripped her fists tightly. What should she do? Run? No, that was cowardly. Attack? Surely she would be evaded and then killed. She rose slowly from her kneeling position, prepared for the worst. The laughter and crude calls from the invaders caught her attention.
"Turn and face us, blood whore," spat one warrior. Alcmene's face became ridden with anger.
"I know not of whom you speak, for though of the Horde I am, a whore I am not," replied the princess with elegance. A few other Night Elves snickered at their mocked comrade, who grunted, walking at a fast pace towards the girl who insulted him.
He turned her by her shoulder swiftly and she stumbled backwards over the fragile body of her maidservant, nearly tripping. The Night Elf caught her by the throat.
"Just who do you think you are?" he sputtered, tightening his grip. Her eyes bulged and she clawed at his grasp. With one hand, she conjured a spell of judgment to cast on her attacker. The blast of energy blinded the elf and he released her. Falling to her knees, she gasped for air, clutching at her bruised neck. She looked up to see an enraged warrior looming over her with his sword drawn. She winced, preparing for the end, when suddenly she felt a dark and powerful energy approaching. It was that of one who controlled magic. Her racial instincts drew her to such power.
"Stop!" a loud, thunderous voice commanded. The elf's blade stopped short of her head, glowing with a bright pale glimmer: the power of a warlock. Alcmene glanced up to view her sudden savior. He too was a Night Elf with lavender skin and long black hair. He was taller than the rest, looming over them by several inches. His chest was broader and more defined muscles bulged under his embellished uniformed robes. Alcmene was ashamed for an instant, thinking to herself that this Elf was rather good looking for being of their rival race. Just as she cursed herself, a thin smirk emerged from his glare.
"But Sir…" the attacker stammered. The mysterious warlock held up his hand to silence him, his eyes never moving from the girl that lie before him. His amber eyes pierced into her, as though they were intruding into her mind.
"Well, well, well, what have we here?" he asked, continuing to look at her, cocking an eyebrow.
"Lord Amathan, we found her resisting Sir, but she didn't run like the rest of the scum," another reported.
"Yes, I was watching from down the corridor Thenes. " He walked towards the princess. "I saw her effective judgment spell also. How are you recovering, Agthen?"
They all laughed and Alcmene's attacker frowned. Amathan walked closer to the frightened girl. He cast a simple levitation spell, lifting her from where she knelt. He summoned her closer and was amused by her feeble attempt to resist. As he examined her, he felt a familiar presence about her aura. The warlock closed his eyes, remembering where he had felt this same bloodline.
'It couldn't be…' he thought to himself. But the features were the same, the gaze, the arrogance. . . Suddenly he opened his eyes with assurance: Kael Sunstrider. The two of them had been introduced on the battlefield and bonded in combat. Multiple times the two had found themselves facing each other's blades or spells. Though Kael had befriended Illidan, (the proud Night Elf leader Mulfurion Stormrage's brother), he was nothing but a self-righteous, cocky, spoiled prince in Amathan's opinion. Plus Illidan had long since turned from the ways of the Kal'Dorei.
"You see here boys, she is no ordinary Blood Elf. We have ourselves a little Paladin Princess," he smirked. The others behind him ooohed and ahhhed, laughing. "She is the long-lost baby sister of our dear friend Prince Kael, a very worthy prize…" She darted her head up sharply at his remark, as her attention was caught. Her gaze was more displeased than she meant for it to be.
"Oh no, did I make you mad? I'm terrified," joked Amathan, placing his hands on his hips. She was losing control of her actions again as she drifted even closer to the handsome Night Elf. This time he stopped stopping her just short of his face.
"However, we don't have times for games. Your powers are actually needed," he said, smiling at her sarcastically. The others were surprised.
"Sir, could our paladins not heal efficiently?"
"There is some power at work here that our healers are unfamiliar with," Amathan replied. "What is your name?"
"Why…should I help you?" cried Alcmene.
"Feisty are we?" laughed Amathan, hurling her against the wall. "You should choose your words wisely when being manipulated by an unfriendly warlock."
She did not respond as he walked closer to her, sprawled on her stomach. For some reason, this girl was unlike the rest of her people. She dared speak to him with such audacious words when others had fled for their lives. Amathan was no fool; he was not about to kill this valuable addition to his cause. Having Kael's baby sister in his grasp would drive his rival mad with anger.
"So, little Sin'dorei, rise and address your conquerors. If you cooperate, you might be spared," he snickered.
"Spared for what, a life as a slave?" asked Alcmene rising up on all fours, then leaning back, kneeling in front of Amathan. She wasn't sure where these courageous words were coming from, but she refused to give in easily.
"Not a bad idea, actually," he responded, holding out his right hand to offer her his help. She rose without taking his hand in effort to show her independence. He sighed. 'Apparently arrogance runs in the family,' he thought to himself.
"You know, rejecting my kindness now will come back to haunt you in time, my dear," Amathan warned as he walked away, placing a slight hex on the princess. She gritted her teeth in pain, but it wasn't the worst she had ever felt. Once he relinquished his spell, she felt faint and nearly toppled forward.
"Come, this way," he called over his shoulder. She sighed and felt as though she had no choice.
Amathan and his men exited the living quarters and headed to the ballroom where they had set up a makeshift camp. Alcmene felt her anger returning as she saw priceless artifacts being tossed aside and exquisite linen being ruined. Her emotions were distracted with Amathan's commanding voice.
"This is Hedret. One of your guards placed a spell on him that our paladins cannot remedy. Alleviate his suffering, and I will find comfortable use for you, Princess," Amathan ordered, eying the frail girl before him. She knelt beside him and reached out her hand, uttering a few Blood Elfish incantations. Within moments, his wound began to heal and his face relaxed.
"Excellent," he said. "We leave in one hour!" The men cheered, running off to find whatever else they so desired to take from the palace. Alcmene looked around nervously, fearing the worst now that her helpfulness had about run out.
"As for you," Amathan began, turning to eye her and tossed her a bag. "Go gather whatever belongings you can fit in this parcel."
She did not respond but simply nodded and headed to her room for her things. She leapt onto her bed to sob for what felt like forever, not even caring about her things. Her entire way of life was uncertain now. Would her brother save her? Surely he would send someone for her or perhaps arrange a financial exchange, but she doubted he could risk the entire operation that their people depended on simply for her sake. She was a princess and princesses made sacrifices for their people.
Amathan slowly crept up the stairs to watch this mysterious elf. He peered into her room, noticing how she was sitting on her bed, sniffling. She had been crying, no doubt. She then walked to her vanity and began filling her bag with her possessions. He intended for this female to be a substantial part of his quests for some time, predicting that Kael would mistake his conquest for a bluff. He would send proof and wait for Kael to offer a ransom or suggest a duel. Surely he wouldn't leave his family to the mercy of the Alliance. Of course if he did, Amathan wouldn't be caught complaining. She was beautiful, after all, and he would be envied for having such a creature in his possession. He slowly crept up behind her as she continued to pack.
"You know, crying is bad for the complexion, I hear," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. She jumped, startled.
"You…scared me," she said, shaking. Alcmene stared at her captor, afraid of what the night elf might do to her now that they were alone. She gulped and clutched her parcel tight to her chest, as if to subconsciously hide her bosom. "Why would you care about my complexion?" questioned the princess.
"I don't, but your future customers might," he replied with a smirk. Speechless, Alcmene stared at him, amazed that someone could be so bold. He was a Night Elf after all, but she was simply not used to such treatment. She instinctively raised a hand to slap him for his saucy comment, but he grabbed her arm abruptly and she gasped, her face tight with anger.
"How dare you!" she cried, trying to free her hand. He simply chuckled and began to drag her away.
"I don't have time for your pathetic resistance. Come, it is time to leave." The pair walked from the palace to the caravan of Night Elves preparing to depart from the city. Most of the Night Elves were mounted, riding on various creatures, but a few carts and wagons were among the bunch. Amathan directed her towards a carriage.
"I'm sure you'll find the accommodations lovely," he said, patting the side.
"Sir, the binds?" another asked.
"Oh, yes. I almost forgot," Amathan said, pulling a set of magical handcuffs from the crate the guard held and placed them on Alcmene's wrists. Once he did, they vanished. She gasped, startled. She had never seen such magic.
"They can only be released by my touch," he said, answering her question before she even asked.
"Very well," Alcmene responded with her head held high. Amathan was impressed by her continuous display of nobility despite the circumstances. Kael's confidence was apparent in her nature.
She sat herself down on the harsh, cold seat of the wooden carriage and leaned back, dwelling in her unavoidable loneliness. Her enclosure was dirty and damp, accommodated only with a jar of water and a few pieces of bread. The Night Elf territories were nowhere near Silvermoon City, so it could be days before she set foot on the earth again. Wondering where she would be taken and how she would be treated plagued her thoughts. Her worst fear was being paraded around like some sort of trophy or made into any kind of slave. It would be unbearably degrading. As she began to prepare for the worst that could be yet to come, she curled into a ball and drifted slowly into sleep.
Several hours later, Alcmene was jolted awake by a loud thud of the door opening, then closing.
"She is sound asleep, Sir," a familiar voice reported.
"Very well. I'll be eating with the captains. Move the train along in twenty minutes," Amathan's distinct voice commanded. After a moment, the door opened again slowly. She heard a faint laugh, one filled with bitter intentions.
"So we meet again, Princess," the Night Elf whispered. Agthen! Alcmene remained calm and pretended to be asleep. Her guise failed as he turned her over abruptly to face him, her eyes bulging with fear. Agthen placed his hand over her mouth to muffle her scream. She continued to cry out, hoping someone might hear, thinking someone might care. She writhed, trying to pry herself away from his wandering hands that were roaming her body.
"Don't fight it, it'll only take a minute," he pleaded sinisterly, fumbling with his armor. She refused to be handled this way. Knowing little else to do, she gathered fleeting strength for an arcane torrent. She was at a disadvantage with her hands bound, but she was able to angle her palm directly upwards. The blast was upon Agthen before he realized what she was conjuring. Scrambling from her former place of solitude, Alcmene dove for the door, forcing it open. She fell onto the hard ground abruptly, but it was better than that creature's treacherous touch. As she began to crawl away, she felt a sharp point slice the side of her leg and pin her skirt to the ground.
"You bitch!" Agthen yelled from the carriage, holding one hand over his eye. Alcmene reached for her injured leg and retrieved a hand lightly coated in a line of blood. Just as she lifted up painstakingly to make one last escape attempt, she heard Agthen scream out in anguish. Turning her head sharply, Alcmene saw Amathan's minion attacking her attacker. He was standing behind the creature, arms crossed.
"Now Agthen. What did I tell you about her?" Amathan asked.
"Said…she…prize…worthy!" he yelled in pain.
"Yes, and why?"
"Kael…sister!"
"That's better. I can't have you scoundrels damaging our biggest asset to the cause, physically or…well, physically," he said, receiving several laughs from those who had laid strolling eyes upon the fallen princess. "No one is to lay a hand on her! "
Several guards helped Alcmene up as she was suddenly face-to-face again with Amathan.
"Bring her to my carriage." Alcmene gulped as she was shoved after their leader, wondering what would become of her now. She had a sense that this particular, superior warlock would not harm her, for he knew and respected her status. Certainly he did not revere her the same way her own people did, but he must realize that foul treatment by his eager fighters was not permissible.
As she stepped into the carriage, she felt his eyes upon her now dirty face. She turned her head to wipe what she could on her shoulder.
"Quite the troublemaker, aren't you?" he asked once the carriage began to move.
"I was not going to allow that heathen to touch me," she replied, keeping her eyes low.
"Yes, I cannot blame you for that. But I can't have you engulfing my men in a blaze of arcane either. What to do about this…." He said, hand on his chin. Alcmene waited for a punishment or at least ridicule, but none came. Instead, Amathan reached forward, eyeing his prisoner carefully as he fingered the trinket around her neck. It was a beautiful sapphire gem, bordered with gold and small diamonds.
"Family heirloom?" he asked, lightly allowing his fingers to lightly touch her collarbone and chest.
"Yes, it was my mother's," she responded nervously. Alcmene wanted to resist, but she knew the necklace wasn't worth her life. She didn't know why, but him touching her so lightly wasn't making her as uncomfortable as she had imagined. Perhaps it was so unlike the rest of him, she was simply mesmerized with disbelief. Just as his hand reached the very top of her cleavage, making her gasp, he tugged sharply on the gem and the chain behind her neck snapped. She jumped at his sudden shift back to his harsh manner.
"Kneel," Amathan ordered as he pocketed the necklace. He would later have it sent off to Kael as proof of his newly acquired advantage.
"What?" Alcmene asked, confused.
"I said kneel," he repeated calmly. She slowly lowered herself onto her knees before him in the narrow space separating their seats in the carriage. Unsure of what he was waiting for, Alcmene bowed her head slightly, hoping the sign of respect might be what he desired. Amathan chuckled inside. Though she was proud, she was learning. She had to know by now that he was not going to harm her, yet she still understood her situation. Withdrawing another item from his other pocket, Amathan placed a different trinket around her neck. It was a shimmering crescent moon shape on a gold chain. Leaning back, Alcmene admired the necklace.
"What is this for?" she asked daintily.
"It is to serve as a symbol representing your importance to me, warding off those who might do you harm once we enter Alliance territory. If anyone should foolishly attempt to harm you despite this, it will summon my minion to your aid at once," he replied with a satisfied look. This ought to keep her safe.
As she tried to stand and return to her seat, Alcmene cried out in pain and grabbed her injured leg, sinking back to the floor of the carriage. Amathan eyed her, puzzled. Seeing her hand smeared with blood, he lifted her back to the seat across from him and reached for her leg, flipping back part of her robes to see the gash on her upper calf. She blushed feeling rather exposed, as her leg was visible up to her mid thigh. Many other Blood Elf girls wore dresses with slits that high, but she was not permitted to do so as a princess. Amathan held her leg in place in his lap with one hand on her ankle and reached for some nearby cloth to assemble a bandage.
"Agthen did this to you?" he asked, almost not really asking at all. He knew he did. It infuriated him that he had not been able to stop his soldier sooner, and as a result she had been injured. He needed her believe him when he said she would be safe in his captivity. Seeing her reddened face lightened his anger slightly, as he knew she had never been remotely intimate with a man. Even this experience was likely nerve-wracking for the girl.
"Yes, he threw his dagger at me," she said softly as he tended to her wound. Alcmene was even more stunned by her captor's return of sudden compassion and stared at him, her eyes darting as he glanced up to look at her once or twice. She had assumed he would let her bleed or maybe send for a medic, but he was helping her himself. Perhaps he was trained in first aid. Perhaps this was easier than stopping the whole group. Perhaps he wanted to get a better look at her figure.
As a matter of fact, Amathan was thinking about all of those things. The warlock carefully wrapped the cloth over her leg several times, enough to keep it in place and stop the bleeding. He hoped that with better care upon arriving home, it would not leave a scar. He did not want his trophy permanently damaged, at least not by anyone but him. As he finished her bandage, his eyes instinctively trailed up her smooth leg. Amathan felt his lust for this girl growing greater by the minute. Every second longer he spent with her unnecessarily could cause him to lose his reserve. He could not give in to his male tendencies with her, at least not at this point. There were pleasure slaves for that…for now.
"Thank…you…for the bandage and the necklace…" she said with hesitation, lowering her gaze. She blushed as she saw his eyes wander upward and under her robes. From the angle from which she was looking, she couldn't tell how much he had really been able to see. He laughed again, not responding to her remark. With sudden aggression, he shoved her leg off of his lap. She was confused, but not hurt physically by the gesture.
"Now that I've done something kind for you, why don't you tell me your name?" he asked wittily.
"Alcmene..." she whispered after a moment.
"Aclmene. Yes, that is fitting I suppose. Anyway, try to cast another arcane torrent," he ordered.
"What? Why?" she asked, confused.
"Ash Karath!" he demanded. She was shocked at his sudden shift to Darnassian, but she understood. She attempted to conjure her racial ability, but she could not. She knew her strength was not at maximum potential, but this was highly unusual.
"I can't...what did you do to me?" cried Alcmene.
"As I said, I can't have you harming my men either, so the charm also weakens your own power," Amathan stated as he wiped his hands on a cloth.
"But…I'll be defenseless! What if Agthen…" Alcmene stuttered.
"No more," he demanded, holding out his hand to signal her silence. "He has been dealt with, as have you. He wouldn't dare press further. And no one would be so foolish as to attack or threaten what I have blatantly labeled as mine…for the cause of course."
She nodded and looked at her feet again, something she was unaccustomed to doing. She had been taught that as a Blood Elf, but especially as royalty, she was to always hold her head high. However, she did not want to seem uncooperative or challenging of his authority, so she resorted to these subservient mannerisms. Usually she would have objected to any sort of ownership such as this, but she was almost thankful for Amathan's care. She could trust no one in the Alliance, but since he planned to use her as bait, she knew he had to keep her alive and away from harm. Any one else might not have such intentions with her. Amathan knew this as well. Countless men would pay a lifetime's worth of gold to have one night with the Blood Elf princess. Clearly he could make some money off of her if Kael's efforts to save her were futile or nonexistent. But those were worries for later. He studied her further, sensing her complacency with what he had told her. She was being forced to trust him.
"Are you frightened?" he asked, smirking. She glanced at him gently, hesitant.
"I suppose I am," she sighed, looking out the window to her right. "I have never been so far away from home nor have I ever been held hostage. I am being taken to a place where my people are despised…"
"No, no, just the ones who uphold their racial honor. There are several…interesting Blood Elves among us. They simply are loyal to no one," he assured her.
"What do you mean interesting?" she inquired, curiously looking at him once more.
"Remember when Agthen referred to you as 'Blood whore'?"
"Yes…"
"That's because the only Blood Elf women he is accustomed to seeing are the concubines in our establishment," he said grinning.
"You cannot be serious!" Alcmene was enraged at the thought of women of her kind sinking so low.
"Oh I assure you I am Princess. You'll see them, don't worry," he replied.
"So you intend to defile me and make me one of them? Is that your plan?" she asked, horrified. She had thought this was a likely possibility after his comment in her bedroom, but had hoped if she forgot about what was mentioned, it wouldn't come true.
"Not in the least! I wouldn't imagine simply casting you into the harem and putting you up for any noble's pleasure. No, your fate will be better, hopefully," he smirked.
"What do you mean, hopefully?" she demanded.
"So many questions!" he grunted. "I cannot explain everything to you. After all, you aren't exactly a guest nor anywhere near an equal in any sense. And frankly, I do not know all of the details of your stay yet. That will depend on what dear brother has to say about this arrangement," he said cunningly, whipping out a parchment and began drafting his first letter to Kael.
Alcmene's eyes widened at the mention of her brother again, hoping he would in fact get her out of this mess.
As the time passed on, Alcmene drifted in and out of sleep as she rested, now back in a private enclosure. Time passed by slowly and she felt the shift in every terrain. At one point, she was sure they were flying, perhaps in a zepplin. It seemed as though she was dreaming when she was finally carried from the vessel out into the open again, finally coming to the band's resting place. The guards took her inside a beautiful white stone building, surely Lord Amathan's mansion. It was much more impressive inside with drapes and tapestries adorning the walls, along with glittering chandeliers and winding staircases. However, her chambers were not as luxurious. It was a plain room upstairs, connected to Amathan's suites and also had a door to the main hallway. All she had was a pallet on the floor, a wooden chair, and a small circular window. Alcmene felt as though she had been drugged, her vision cloudy from the journey, her weariness, and the unfamiliar environment. She felt her need for mana and magic surging through her body as she collapsed on the makeshift bed. Luckily, a guard understood and brought her spring water at once. Just after the rejuvenating liquid was all within her, the princess drifted off to sleep in her prison cell.
Next chapter: Kael receives word of his sister's capture and seeks to negotiate with Amathan through emissaries, but one party isn't satisfied; more revealed about Amathan's life and title; Alcmene adjusts to life in her prison, but will it become her sanctuary?
Ash Karath: Darnassian for "Do it!"