Welp. I'm completely obsessed with the demon hunters. And those intro cut scenes are fucking AMAZING. As someone who is fairly new to Warcraft (like 3 months playing) Illidan seems like a really interesting character. Even more so after I did some reading on his backstory. But then I've always liked the emotionally unstable assholes who murder even bigger assholes.
-Static
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This was a rare event. A pair of men stood opposite each other in the middle of the temporary ring. One was very noticeably larger than the other, but the smaller one didn't seem fazed in the least. He readied his glaives and the night elf opposite him did nothing. The blinded man waited, listening for the sound of his opponent's weapon, and the battle was over just like that.
"Throwing it is generally a good idea against a simple creature." The elder stated, holding the glaive against the other's throat. "Such as an imp or a lion. However against a more sentient enemy you may as well just hand it over."
"I'll keep that in mind, Lord Illidan. Thank you for your help." And the new recruit was left to train with his new weapons on his own.
Lilythae had very conflicted feelings about her master.
In many ways Lord Illidan was a respectable leader, if such a thing ever existed. She admired him greatly. Instead of barking orders from his lavish palace he fought alongside his followers. He took an active role in the workings of his Illidari. He presided over ceremonies welcoming the few who survived the transformations. He made time to assist in training when he could, though their numbers had grown to the point that it was unusual for anyone to get any kind of training with him anymore. He spoke with scouts himself, drafted battle plans himself, and he was happy to take opinions from his lieutenants. Even if his possessions were a little finer than those of his followers, he didn't lord it over them. He demanded nothing from them other than their trust and their respect.
As well as their devotion and their obedience.
The one and only thing that Lilythae did not like about Illidan was that the demon hunters treated him almost like a deity, as though he were a force to be worshipped akin to the Light or Elune herself. And he reveled in it. Always they said to trust in Lord Illidan's plan, but as one of his lieutenants Lilythae knew how dangerous that could be. Though he was powerful and exceptionally knowledgeable Illidan was just a man, and his followers were incredibly young.
Illidan had been alive for thousands of years where many of the elves here – night and blood alike – were barely more than children. They had experienced the pain of becoming orphaned, of losing brothers and sisters, husbands and wives, and the new recruits were maybe twenty years old on average.
Lilythae herself had experienced her own painful loss. A loss that had filled her heart with grief and a rage potent enough to burn down the remnants of the destroyed city to rubble.
And it was that very grief and anger that Illidan preyed on.
"You appear distracted." A voice rang out, deep, rich, and just vaguely threatening. "Is something on your mind?"
"Not at all, my lord." Lilythae answered, her own voice soft and tranquil. She was sitting down with a cup of warm chocolate, sipping every so often as she enjoyed her brief break. She rather liked to watch the training matches, even when she'd spent all day teaching basic techniques to newbies. Illidan arched a single black eyebrow.
"You aren't very convincing." He pried. "Speak your mind and be done with it."
"I'm just thinking about Mardum. I know it's still a week away, but I am making peace with the possibility of my death." She smoothly lied. She admired Illidan, yes, but she knew better.
"Oh?"
"If I succeed, then I am one step closer to vengeance. If I die…"
"If you die…?"
"Then I get to see my loved ones again. I'd like to think that either way, things will end well for me but…." She shrugged. For a moment Illidan was silent, then he beckoned to her with a single clawed hand. The message was clear. Follow me.
He led her through the halls and out the entryway and started heading away from the temple. Further and further out, almost as if he were luring her away from the other demon hunters.
Almost an hour had passed before the pair encountered a small troupe of demons. It wasn't until he left her to deal with them that she entertained the anxiety that began to cloud her mind. Illidan hadn't spoken a word, and he knew what she could do. He knew she'd make short work of the scouts, they had taken no more than five seconds of her time, and yet he watched her now the way he'd watched her the first time they'd gone hunting together: observant, critical, waiting to see if she'd fail.
Why?
She made her way back and craned her neck to look up into his face. Lilythae would have been lying if she said she wasn't afraid of Illidan. She would have been stupid to be comfortable in his presence. She knew exactly what he was capable of, what he had done in the past, and what he intended to do in the future. She suspected he knew what she thought of him, and though he didn't outright harm those within the Illidari for idle questions and concerns he would not hesitate to kill her if she pissed him off.
At this point they had to be miles away from the Black Temple, and even if they were situated right in the center of the damned place she would receive no help. No one would dare stand up to Illidan. In fact if he killed her right in front of them, they'd think it well-deserved. In spite of her various displays of loyalty, time and again, they would believe what Illidan told them.
And yet he chose to bring her out here.
If there was one thing the other Stormrage twin respected it was courage. Right now that was all she had to offer in her confusion as she stared up at him, waiting for him to speak.
Almost immediately his hand snapped out, grabbing her by the neck and slamming her into a nearby boulder. She cried out, startled, and her fingers instinctively rose to her throat to pry at her masters talons.
"You're not much of a liar, Lilythae." He growled. "The Illidari are so close. We almost have the Legion, and I will not have your distrust of me destroying our chance." And with that he threw her to the ground, coughing and regaining her breath. He walked away as he spoke. "Now tell me: what has this distrust stemmed from?"
Slowly Lilythae let her eyes flicker up. Illidan was casually leaning against one of the many fel-tinted boulders that littered Shadowmoon Valley. He stared out into the distance with his back to her, a breeze lightly tousling his long black hair. No doubt he was listening for her to get up. Slowly, she sat back on her knees and took a sip from the water skin at her hip. She took the time to think about what to say next. It was abundantly clear. Illidan had taken her out here to decide whether or not to kill her. If she wanted to survive this encounter she had to choose her words extremely carefully.
"It is not that I don't trust you, Illidan." She said slowly, her voice echoing softly in the air. "But I think many of the Illidari are akin to lost children. Not once have I seen you recruit someone who is sane, who is not drowning in their emotions, or under Kael'Thas's spell."
"You think me manipulative." He filled in, continuing to glare out at the landscape. Yes. Lilythae thought. Exactly it.
"I think you know this world in ways we do not. I think you are charismatic. I think you have suffered greatly, and I think it is you who wants vengeance most of all. You have let it consume you, and you use the pain of others in the hopes of furthering your goals." She said. Illidan's gaze lazily turned back to her.
"And tell me, Lilythae, how is it that I've suffered. Do you know?"
For a moment she wondered if he was toying with her. On occasion the man seemed insane, with his soft rantings about Tyrande and Malfurion. It would be difficult to not know what Illidan's problem was. The longer she stared at him, the angrier she got. Screw this. She thought. I will not play his games. I may as well die with dignity.
"I could ask you the same question." She answered, a hint of ire tainting her voice. "Do you know how I've suffered? How any of the rest of us have suffered? Do you honestly care as much about our stories as the others believe you do?" There was a brief pause as Illidan's eyebrows shot up. She had actually taken him by surprise, and for a moment he almost looked to be at a loss for what to do. It was quickly replaced by an expression so impassive that Lilythae wondered if she had imagined it.
"You lost your child." He stated softly. "You lost her to the demons, and you burned your neutral city to the ground, killing any and all who might have survived." He turned the rest of the way, and though a simple blindfold decorated his face she could still feel his gaze boring through her. "You find me lacking in compassion, yet you have committed crimes just as terrible as mine. I have no use for you if you will treat me with contempt."
Immediately, Illidan rushed her and she just barely managed to dodge the blade that had been dead set on slicing her in half.
"The Illidari worship the ground you walk on!" Lilythae snarled. "Have you no appreciation for that?!" And she threw her glaive at Illidan's head. Even in spite of the enormous horns sprouting from his skull he managed to dodge the heavy metal blade with ease, entirely unimpressed. He raised a hand and caught it as it returned. He threw it back down to her feet.
"Perhaps you should have spent more time training, rather than mulling over my leadership choices. Didn't you hear what I was telling that recruit earlier?" But just as he finished speaking, she rushed up to him, her fel magic stinging him, and swung the other glaive across his body. He dodged at the last second, but he hadn't evaded her completely. A shallow cut had opened across Illidan's chest, trailing down to his chiseled stomach. Though it healed almost instantaneously, his face quickly contorted into something violent and Lilythae felt her own stomach drop.
She'd pissed him off. She'd seen what Lord Illidan did to the people who pissed him off.
Quickly he grabbed her by her horns and threw her. Lilythae expanded her wings and let herself glide back to the ground. She stumbled and fell back into a boulder, but before she could right herself Illidan had materialized before her and with one hand pinned her wrists above her head. With the other he held his own glaive at her stomach, the metal grazing her exposed skin. Though she knew it wouldn't have made the slightest bit of difference, she found herself cursing her clothing choices.
Demon hunters liked to show off their tattoos. That reigned true for them all, but that didn't mean it was practical.
"It'll look suspicious if you return without me." She stated, silently cursing the shakiness in her voice. She wasn't going to escape. At this point she knew that, but if she could stall just a moment more she really could make her peace with death. Her demonic power might have been damn near as potent as his, but when it came to matters of physical strength she was still nearly four feet shorter than Illidan's metamorphosis. There was no way she could overpower him, not like this.
I could try and use my magic. She mused. But even then I still don't think I'll win.
"Like you said, they worship the ground I walk on. I can tell them something happened to you. Maybe we were ambushed by demons. Perhaps one of Azeroth's self-proclaimed heroes got lucky. There are plenty of things that could have resulted in your untimely demise." Illidan hissed, studying her a moment before letting his glaive trail just a little lower. She could feel the metal as it wandered her skin, freezing the flesh, before it finally fell away. Yet he continued to hold her against the rock. Illidan sighed.
"Well? Are you going to kill me?" The woman questioned.
"You're that eager to die?" He asked.
"No. But if you're going to do it, I'd like it over with." Lilythae said. She watched as her master lowered his head, careful to avoid the sharp points of her curved horns. He stopped just centimeters away from her face.
"I have no desire to kill you." He murmured. He dropped the glaive and his fingers came up to trace the violet swirls decorating her pale flesh. It wasn't until his thumb stopped just beneath her breast that it really clicked.
Oh.
Oh.
Needless to say, Lilythae was not prepared.
/*\
Illidan had very conflicted feelings regarding his lieutenant. Her power was daunting. Her petite body held an enormous amount of fel energy and strength, and she only just barely used it. It might have gone unnoticed if not for the steady thrumming glow that encased her silhouette.
Illidan had traded in his eyes for a sort of spectral sight. Perhaps not strictly because he wanted to, but that wasn't the point. This tiny elf woman, unremarkable in every way, held enough power to rival his own. On top of that, she could keep that power in check. He had never once seen her lose control. In fact it was so seamless, so well-bound, he sometimes wondered if she was even aware it existed. Though she didn't know, that was what initially earned her the promotion. He wanted to keep that kind of magic close. There were no physical implications of her strength and yet her aura glowed, invisible to all but her peers. She was as bright as the moon whereas most of the others were little more than the pinpricks of stars.
Now this didn't mean the other women of the Illidari escaped his attention. He most certainly had his own fun with them. His own pain was difficult to wash away, and he wouldn't say no if a pretty girl wanted to offer him a moment of solace. They were all too happy to serve their master in whatever way he pleased, and well, he wanted to be pleased.
He had his pick before any other man within the ranks. He could have whoever he wanted whenever he wanted, and yet none of his encounters were as satisfying as he might have liked them to be. His intimate partners were too complacent, too concerned with his desires. It was fun to be domineering, but he received submission so easily. It had gotten so boring.
At this point in his life he couldn't decide if he wanted this or not. Right now he was at war. He was doing something important. Trying to pursue an emotional connection would not end well, for him or the woman. Still he knew that, eventually at least, he wanted a woman who saw him rather than the borderline god he sold to the elves who chose to follow him. Someone who saw him and looked at him not with disgust but something else. Lilythae certainly seemed to see him. Unlike the others, male and female alike, she did not grovel at his feet. She behaved professionally and got things done, but she remained distant. Unlike many of the other demon hunters she refused to take comfort in the embrace of one of her fellow Illidari, though he knew she used to get many propositions.
He'd quickly put a stop to that.
To the best he could figure she rejected romance and intimacy because of her daughter. He could not say this for all of his followers but he remembered the day he'd met Lilythae. She'd once been a talented mage, her magic had been the thing he noticed first. In her despair flames consumed buildings and demons and people alike. She had been entirely out of control, wild and untamed. She didn't care who she'd hurt as long as her wrath was appeased.
He didn't know if he admired or pitied her. Perhaps both.
To the point, she was not to be trifled with. From the very beginning she had been aloof and her distant nature persisted. She had proven her loyalty many times over with the deaths of high profile demons and the exposing of traitors within their ranks. Always she performed above and beyond for him, treating him with the respect he deserved but unlike the other women she never jumped at the chance to spend a night in his chamber. In fact she'd seemed rather insulted when he first made an advance. That was where she'd drawn the line.
He wasn't used to lines.
Illidan began to catch himself. Sometimes he would stare a moment too long, letting his gaze ravage her exposed torso. Sometimes he'd speak her name, giving her menial tasks just so he'd have an excuse to look at her. He had even found himself fantasizing about what it might be like if she ever let him remove the too-long skirt that hid her legs.
As he tried to increase his encounters with her he found that she was not as simple as the women who shared his bed. She helped in the first aid tents and did her best to offer emotional support to the newest recruits. She was certainly an asset in the war room and her tongue was as sharp as her glaive. She could cut down any demon in her path with little effort, and she rarely returned with harsh injuries. She was as beautiful as she was clever, and though it was certainly an attractive combination it meant something else: she didn't buy his bullshit.
He found that he was rather surprised at himself. After the high priestess of the moon, he figured he was done with this. Her disinterest had been made clear, because the priestess was not impressed by his dark sorcery. She had wanted Malfurion's light, his natural power. She wanted things that were inherently good, pale in her black and white world, and Illidan hadn't been it. She was the one who had rejected him. The one who had pushed him in this direction. The one who, in spite of everything, he still completely adored. In his hurt and his fury he sold his soul to the demons, much like how he persuaded these young elves to sell their souls to him.
Somehow he had made his peace with that. He knew he would always love her. If his affection survived ten thousand years while he rotted away in a cell, nothing could destroy it. She had been his ruin in every way imaginable, and in spite of his exhaustion he still bore no ill will against her. Yet by some miracle Tyrande no longer plagued his mind. Instead the newest object of his obsession lay stretched out on a large rock, her wrists bound in his hand while the other explored the blood elf's creamy skin. Unlike many of the other demon hunters – himself included – her flesh had not become discolored and scaly. At least he assumed it hadn't been discolored. He could see the outline of her face, the length of her hair, the energy in her eyes, but his color perception had almost completely vanished. He could see the magic that imbued her body, not her.
However he could see that her eyes had remained intact during her transformation. Oddly enough she still wore a blindfold. A set of delicate ram horns sat atop a crown of long, silky hair bound severely into a braid. He caught sight of a pair of tiny fangs as she grimaced at him, awaiting his verdict as he trailed his fingers along the bright runes that decorated her form in violet energy.
"I have no desire to kill you." He hummed. He let his sight meet hers and a flash of terror shot across her face. Illidan froze, hand stilling on her body. Her grimace turned into a frown, and her gaze fell to his chest, the deep purple flesh and his glowing green marks. Quickly Illidan removed his hands, freeing her, and he tilted her face back up. He pulled away the blindfold, allowing it to fall to the ground, and he let his lips descend on hers.
He had reason to think she didn't want him. It wasn't an unfamiliar feeling, but before that he wanted to at least know what this one tasted like. In her surprise she froze up, and even better, her lips were just slightly parted.
The first thing to cross his mind was that Lilythae tasted like the cup of chocolate she'd been drinking earlier. Sweet and spicy and warm. He let his tongue lightly graze her fangs, but still she did not reciprocate. Nor did she resist. Illidan pulled away for a moment to assess her, to gauge her response, and she stared up at him owlishly.
"Really?!" She whispered.
"I've asked you to bed before. Why are you surprised?" To this she narrowed her eyes and turned away.
"True. This isn't new, but you also haven't made that request since you made me a lieutenant. I assumed you'd come to respect me." She snapped. Illidan straightened.
"Explain."
"I will not be a member of your harem." She stated. "I won't lie and say I don't admire you Illidan. You've done much for Azeroth, and in exchange gained the wrath of its people. In spite of that you still continue on, trying to eradicate the legion in the hopes of saving us. Without you they would have already destroyed a great deal more. I would follow you to the ends of the earth. All the same, I will not just let you exploit me." And then lower. "No matter how sexy your magic is."
Illidan quirked a brow.
"You think my magic is sexy? Is that what you just said?" He asked, too mystified to truly be angry. Though it irked him that she spoke to him so casually, that one little statement entirely made up for it. After all, he wanted to impress whatever woman he pursued. Though he had certainly been much more of a show off when he was younger, that didn't mean he'd changed completely.
"That's all you got from that?" She scoffed. "Many of the girls who throw themselves at you are blood elf. In sin'dorei culture, arcane talent is considered extremely attractive."
What an interesting turn this conversation had taken. He took her out here to kill her, and instead gave in to the urge to kiss her, touch her, and take her clothes off. Though he hadn't quite made it to that latter stage just yet, she hadn't outright rejected him. Rather he gained an admission from her. The realization left him feeling quite, well, satisfied. Yet he wanted more.
"You were a powerful sorceress yourself." He replied. "I've witnessed your mortal power myself. A weak man would not suit you, but surely I've proven myself." It wasn't a question.
"Time and again." She said slowly. "But my point stands. I am not a whore. Not for you or anyone else."
"What makes you think I view you as a whore?" He demanded. Lilythae raised an eyebrow.
"What do you use the Den of Mortal Delights for, Illidan?"
He slammed his fists into the rock on either side of her head. She didn't even flinch.
"That is Lord Illidan to you." He snarled, then calmer. "What is it that you want, Lilythae?"
"I don't follow."
"Why do you refuse?" He asked. "Many would consider it an honor to lie with me."
"Then it is an honor you bestow carelessly." She immediately shot back. "I am tired. My brother made me watch as he murdered my husband. Then I found my child-" She stopped. "To the point: I have nothing left. I still grieve for them both, and I cannot bring myself to just sleep with anything that walks. Kill me or leave me be, but pick one."
Slowly Illidan backed away. Her refusal both infuriated him to no end and excited him, but he wouldn't permit her to see that. He'd gotten the answer he was searching for. Now he just needed to figure out what to do with it.
"I see." He said. "In that case return to the Black Temple. Do whatever it was you were doing before I so rudely interrupted you."
He didn't give her a chance to respond before he bolted off somewhere, vanishing before her eyes.
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I think this is off to a good start. Did I do a good job keeping Illidan in character?
-Statyck