A/N: Hello, loves. So, I had mentioned this once before in one of the Jaina/Arthas oneshots. I've been working on this for about six months now, and I finally decided I'm going to start posting the chapters. A few things I wanted to say real quickly.

One, trying to follow the lore of WotA is a nightmare. I refused to read the trilogy as I was working on this, because I didn't want it to end up as a retelling. All my lore has come from wikis and other such places. This gave me the freedom to fill in the gaps as I saw fit.

Two, as this is a fanfiction and not simply recycling the wiki pages, there are some things I made changes to from the original lore. Either because I didn't think they made sense, or I didn't think they benefitted my story. But for the most part, the actual war parts are relatively canon.

Three, this is going to end up as a trilogy, at least. So I hope you'll stay for the long adventure. Reviews always welcome, but play nice, yeah?

Obviously, I don't own Warcraft or any such affiliations. Otherwise this would all be canon, and my heart wouldn't always be so damn broken.

one

The first thing he felt was the pain taking over his body. His head was spinning and everything was dark, which he should have been used to anyway, but this was a different kind of darkness. It took a few minutes for him to gather the strength to push himself up off the cold, hard ground. He didn't know where he was or where he was going, if there was even anywhere to go. He didn't know anything except the pounding in his head and the hot, coppery taste of blood in his mouth.

Managing to push himself to his feet, stumbling in the shadows for something to support him, he finally felt his body collide with the damp stone wall. His legs were threatening to give out beneath him, but still he took a few steps, wiping the blood away from his lips. Fading in and out of consciousness, drifting somewhere between pitch black and something even darker, a thousand memories flashed across his mind. Once upon a time it had all seemed so simple. So innocent. But then the shadows had descended, and suddenly there was nothing else. Just the remnants of a dream long since forgotten.

Somewhere, he could hear voices, and he wasn't sure if they were real or in his head, because everything was sort of blurring together. The sound of his name reached his ears, then, spoken in a sweetly soft and tragically broken voice. Like a dagger tearing into his flesh. Of all the times he had heard his name fall from her lips, it had never hurt him as much as it did then.

He strained himself, trying to hear, trying to make out what they were saying, but his head was spinning and he honestly wasn't sure if he was conscious anymore, so it all sounded muffled and far away. Just a memory, playing back, over and over to remind him of all the things he had lost. All the things for which he had not been prepared.

The second thing he felt was the pain in his chest, the kind that made it hard to breathe. And then it was easy to succumb to the darkness, which he should have been used to anyway.

…

Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Tyrande Whisperwind gently opened the book on her lap and glanced up at the sky. It was the most precise shade of navy blue, dotted with stars and illuminated with the ethereal light of the moon. The night was perfect, a slight breeze blowing, tugging at the hem of her dress and teasing her skin wherever it was exposed. The perfect night to sit out between the trees and the moonlight, catch up on some reading, and try to calm her nerves.

She had been trying repeatedly to tell herself that tomorrow would go smoothly. But there was a lingering anxiety that she couldn't seem to shake. Trying to keep herself distracted from any fears or doubts, she focused once more on the book. She supposed it only made sense that she would be nervous, considering it was possible the most important day of her life. In one day she would be officially inaugurated into the Sisterhood of Elune. All her hard work and time and effort, all building up to this-

"Gotcha!"

A surprised scream fell from her lips as Tyrande felt a pair of arms snake around her waist. It quickly turned to laughter as she struggled to wriggle free of the hold, knocking her book into the dewy grass in the process. Rolling her eyes, she pushed her tangled hair out of her eyes and glared at the person standing in front of her.

"Very funny, Illidan," she huffed as she crossed her arms.

The night elf offered up half a smirk. "I thought so," he retorted. He knew fully well that she could never really be upset with him, a fact that was confirmed a moment later when she flashed a small smile. The pair had been inseparable for as long as he could remember, probably even longer than that. They'd grown up together, played together as children, stood side by side as they slowly started to find their paths in life. There weren't a whole lot of things in life Illidan could count on, but he was pretty certain that Tyrande was one of them.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" Illidan finally asked, reaching to retrieve her book.

Snatching it up, Tyrande smoothed out her skirts and gave her best friend a pointed look. "I was trying to calm myself down a little bit. So thank you for scaring me half to death. It did wonders for my nerves."

Without even realizing it, the pair had begun to walk. They fell into step together naturally, effortlessly. That was sort of how their friendship had always felt to Tyrande. Effortless. From when they were barely old enough to pick up a weapon, there had been something pulling them towards each other. Lately, it had just seemed to be pulling a little harder.

"You have nothing to be worried about," Illidan told her, his voice surprisingly soothing. Usually he was more closed off, maybe even cold at times, but every now and again Tyrande would find this sincerity in his tone that always caught her off guard. He had stopped walking now, reaching out to grab her hand and hold her in place. She looked up through her lashes to see him giving her a serious look. "You're going to be amazing, Tyra. You already are. Everything is going to be fine tomorrow."

She really wanted to believe his words, but still she had this feeling that something big was about to happen. Bigger than either of them could even begin to imagine. She glanced up at the moon, but it had been veiled by some clouds. Tyrande tried not to take that as a bad omen.

They had started to walk again, through the expansive gardens that rested in the center of their city. Suramar was a great, sprawling place, with the Temple of Elune looming over, silently keeping vigil watch. In the distance was the Eternal Palace, and just beyond that rested the Well. Every so often Illidan would steal a glance at her, taking in the way the moonlight danced off her dark hair, making the blue pigments show even more. The way her bottom lip would quiver just slightly when she had a particularly upsetting thought. The way she kept pushing her bangs from her face even though she knew they would just fall right back.

Feeling Illidan's strong gaze upon her, a slight blush crept onto her cheeks. Tyrande realized their hands were still clasped and quickly pulled away. "I should go," she murmured. She caught the way Illidan's gaze shifted to the ground, only for a second, before he nodded. There was a sudden shift in the atmosphere around them, a tension she couldn't quite place. For as long as she could remember, their relationship had been effortless. But lately, it seemed like it was a little more strained. She wanted desperately to make that go away. She wanted desperately to keep things how they had always been.

After a moment of hesitation, she leaned in to wrap her arms around him in a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

Illidan slipped his arms around her waist, holding her small frame to him, cherishing the fleeting moment. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

He lingered there for a moment longer and watched her enter the temple before turning to retreat back to his own empty bed. There was a wistfulness he couldn't quite seem to shake, an emptiness he couldn't place. He was happy for Tyrande, of course. She was his oldest and closest friend. And she was going to be great. She had chosen Elune, or rather the goddess had chosen her.

But him, he had no path. He was lost, stuck waiting for some great destiny to present itself to him. He just hoped it wouldn't wait much longer.

…

"And with my warmest blessings, I welcome each of you into the Sisterhood of Elune." The High Priestess Dejahna smiled brightly at each of the students standing before her. Her stomach finally managing to unknot itself, Tyrande beamed back. She had done it. All her work had paid off, and she had finally achieved her goals. This was the beginning of the rest of her life.

The girls were all congratulating each other, a few even clasping hands or hugging. After Tyrande had shared in their excitement, she bounded off the stage and straight towards Illidan. He had been watching from one of the rows through the entire ceremony, a slight smile tugging at his own lips. With the moonlight filtering in through the expansive, open ceilings, he didn't think she had ever looked as beautiful as she did in that moment.

Illidan pulled his best friend in for a quick hug, letting her go much sooner than he would have liked. "See?" He said teasingly. "That wasn't so bad." The blue haired elf nodded eagerly, unable to conceal her excitement.

There was a slight change in the air around them as Illidan glanced away, his amber eyes fixated off on nothing. For as long as he had known her, Tyrande had had this power over him, this way of making him forget everything else but her. And many times, he had tried to work up the courage to tell her so, to tell her everything he so desperately needed her to know. But it just never seemed like the right time. Or maybe he was just a coward.

Now, though, she was looking at him expectantly, like she was waiting for something even if she wasn't sure what it was, exactly. And Illidan couldn't stop thinking about the way she had looked during her coronation, more vibrant and alive than she had ever appeared before. He looked back at her, overly aware of every inch between them.

"Illy?" Tyrande asked softly, using her childhood nickname for him, reaching out to grasp his hand in hers. "Is everything okay?"

A slow sigh escaped his lips. "Tyrande, I just-" he cut himself off as he watched her gaze travel past him, catching the way her eyes lit up, glowing even brighter through the darkness that surrounded them. With a slight frown he glanced over her shoulder, feeling his heart sink as he followed her gaze.

"Malfurion," she breathed in an eager whisper. Excusing herself in a soft murmur, Tyrande moved gracefully across the room and right into the arms of a tall, muscled elf. And all Illidan could do was watch from a distance at the way he wrapped her in his hold, lifting her off the ground. Something twisted deep inside of him, but he managed to push it aside and make his way towards them.

Tyrande was talking excitedly to him, tucking her hair behind her pointed ear and occasionally biting down on her bottom lip. But she snapped her mouth shut as Illidan sauntered up to her side, her eyes flickering carefully between the two men. There was a tangible tension in the air around them.

But finally, Malfurion stepped forward to pull Illidan into an embrace. "Hello, little brother," he greeted, his voice genuine and caring.

Illidan fought to break free of his hold. When he was at last able to take a step back, he gave a pointed glare to the emerald-haired elf before him. He was trying his best to appear serious, but there was a small grin tugging at his lips that was just barely noticeable. "I am hardly little," Illidan remarked. "And barely younger than you."

Malfurion let out a quick laugh. "But, still younger," he replied. "And I do not intend on letting you forget it."

Illidan crossed his arms over his chest. Five minutes in, and his twin was already trying his patience. This was nothing new, though, nothing he hadn't been expecting upon his return to Suramar. They had been like this since birth, always bickering, always competing, always trying to prove who was the strongest of the pair. At least it was usually jokingly, Illidan thought. He shuddered to imagine them coming face to face in any real conflict.

"So," Tyrande said then, clasping her hands together. "Tell us everything! You must have so many stories to share. I didn't realize you would be home in time for my ceremony."

Malfurion took the invitation, and easily launched into a long tirade about his time away, the things he had seen and placed he had been. It had barely felt like a day since his brother had left, beginning his own journey to become attuned to his own druidic powers. Illidan mostly tuned him out, though Tyrande appeared to be hanging on every word. Almost literally, by the way she was leaning in towards him, her small hands resting on arm as he talked.

After what felt like an eternity, Illidan decided that no one would notice if he slipped away. He took a few steps back, and then turned fully and made his way out the entrance to the temple. The night was beautiful, the air cooled by a steady breeze, the stars all aglow above him. But it felt empty, somehow. Something was missing; he just wasn't sure what it was. Pushing the thoughts aside, he began to walk away from the temple, and just as he had suspected, no one seemed to realize he was gone.