Disclaimer: I do not own, claim to own any of the World of Warcraft Characters, including but not limited to Illidan Stromrage, Malfurion Stormrage, Tyrande Whisperwind, Lord Xavius, Queen Azshara, Nozdormu, or the Burning Legion. I do however, claim full rights to Azshiri/Azhi as she is mine and mine alone, though her race, status, and other character traits are based on Blizzard's property. Again, I do not own anything in here other than the plot, words, and Azhi. The owners are Blizzard and World of Warcraft.
Prologue-Confessions
Zin-Azshari, Glory of Azshara, Light of Lights, Flower of the Moon. So highly inaccurate terms…They have yet to see the fate of Suramar. They have yet to watch the tree spread her boughs over the tainted waters, yet to find the great tree replaced by yet another. They have not seen the Great Sea—the chasm that will soon hold the remains of Zin-Azshari. And as long as they stay blind, we will not fail.
She jerked awake, her pale eyes heavy with tears. Someone had tied her hair back and sat in the room while she slept. Who? She couldn't tell, she merely hoped the illness that had decided to root in her would fade soon. Her hopes faded as she tried to focus her vision, unable to see past the blur the herbs had induced earlier.
"You've still got quite the fever."
"I had heard…thought, maybe, that our kind could not draw ill…" she mumbled. The scuffling of feet nearby assured her that her speech was less than intelligible. The cool cloth brushed over her forehead and strong arms gently eased her back.
"Who…who are you?" she finally asked.
"Good to know you've already forgotten me, Azhi," it replied, teasing. The voice was male. That made it clear she wasn't in the Temple of the Moon. Lately, she had been told to stay away. Since her coronation as Princess of Zin-Azshari, her mother had kept her on a tight watch. At first she thought herself doomed to be a consort of the Satyr, Lord Xavius. Fortunately, her mother's jealousy saved her virginity and undoubtedly, her life.
"Hey, Azshiri, you in there?"
"Don't call me that!" she hissed. He laughed lightly.
"You dislike your birth name, then?"
"I detest you for even bringing it up, Illidan Stormrage."
His laughter filled the room. "Well, it's good to know you're still feisty. You've been sick for nearly two weeks now with little sign of improvement. Tyrande would have been here taking care of you but…" Illidan's voice trailed off.
"She went with Malfurion somewhere," Azhi finished. A grunt was more than enough confirmation. The past three seasons Illidan had been more than a little in love with Tyrande Whisperwind. Obsessive wasn't quite strong enough either…after being denied the right to apply for the Moon Guard, denied right to study further in the Art of Sorcery, and constantly failing to delve any further into Druidism than a trance, he had become sour. His mind was focused on getting the one thing he had left that he felt he deserved—Tyrande, and when Illidan set his mind to do something, he would do it or fail trying. Azhi feared the result, as she knew what it would be.
He was too focused on trying to gain her approval to actually try for her heart. Malfurion was too focused on becoming a druid to try for her heart, if he even understood he needed to try, and Tyrande was mortified on having to pick one or the other.
The hard fact was that Tyr would pick Malfurion and Illidan would be left waiting, searching.
"Azhi…I am finding it complicated to love my brother, and at the same time, complicated to dislike him at all."
"Complicated? That word choice makes it sound like you had a lover's spat."
"Maybe we did."
"You've got to be—"
"Yes Azhi, I am joking," he sighed, sitting back down on the bed next to her. "You need to start getting better. My mind is going bad."
Azhi tried to laugh but wound up coughing instead. "Going? I thought you'd determined a long time ago your mind was gone. It can't go bad if it isn't there."
"I wasn't…I wasn't joking, Azhi. I'm thinking things, acting on things, feeling things I shouldn't," he explained, balling his fist up and letting a red aura circle around it. "I've begun to think that things would be simpler if Tyrande wasn't around. For all three of us, really…I don't want her dead, don't even suggest that. But is this situation even partially fair to any of us? Mal's my twin brother…my other half."
"No, Illidan, it isn't fair to anyone. Being twins, you've shared everything from day one, including your first breath. Now, after five thousand seasons, sharing isn't so easy anymore. I don't know that I'd wish Tyrande away, but perhaps another suitor. Then you two could mope around together then move on."
Illidan growled and Azhi laughed. "If anyone else even tried to lay so much as a hand on her…"
"Elune will see to it that the best happens for her favored child, Illidan, and she'll guide the rest of her children if they ask. Try not to get too worried about it, would you?"
She began coughing again, harder, deeper. He sat her up and wiped her brow once more with the cool cloth, blind to the fact that Azhi could be his mate just as easily, perhaps moreso, than Tyrande. To gain the favor of the Princess would gain favor of the Queen, instant access into the Moon Guard, and power and glory for eternity.
In the next room, two hooves plodded towards the Queen's Court, their owner smirking as he tossed a bronze disk up and caught it with his other hand. If things would be simpler without Tyrande Whisperwind for Illidan and Malfurion Stormrage, thwarters of the Master's plan, by all means, things need to be simpler. Certainly you agree, my dearest pet, Nozdormu.