Prologue - Chapter 1 – The Giver

It was high summer in Azeroth. The greens of spring were starting to fade as the temperatures rose. It was the season of crop growing and farmer's markets in the squares of Stormwind. It was a time to play for children and for adults to feel their youths again.

Djenni walked into the great entrance of the Keep. The Keep she now called home. She looked up at the great walls. She sighed and walked into the front courtyard passing guards who saluted her. She was the daughter of a royal now even if she were not royal blood.

Her family was a very complex one. Her father was Highlord Darion Mograine leader of the Knights of Ebon Blade, a sect of the Death Knights who though were former warriors of the Scourge were now friends to both the Alliance and the Horde. Her mother was Lady Helene, daughter of the Queen of the Alliance and her first husband, Grekko. The King, however, had formally adopted Rhenn's adult children and spoiled her grandchildren, including Djenni, to the point of access. Her sister the half Draenei, half human Neumu was charming and with their cousin Thea, they were inseparable much of the time.

Djenni walked toward the gardens around the great cathedral completely lost in thought. She walked by the canals around the Dwarven District and continued to the bridge to Cathedral Square. She went around the side and into the green cemetery where the well tended graves of the citizens were houses.

She walked do the path and found herself in front of her parent's graves. She sighed. Born to a blood elf and a human she had never really had a place in the world until the Mograines had adopted her last Winter Veil. She did not feel different with them. She sighed and sat down under the tree that stood as a sentinel over the small graves. She missed them, though she hardly remembered them. She could not quite remember her mother's face.

She sighed and tucked her knees to her chest thinking. It was her birthday in a couple days and no one had seemed to even mention the fact. Birthdays were always meager occurrences at the orphanage and so she was not sure why she was taking this one so hard. A small piece of chocolate, a knitted item, and a pat on the head. Those had been her presents for years. She looked down and pulled a small threadbare doll from her pocket. It was her small doll she had named Mariah. It had been the last present she had received from her parents.

Not far off Darion Mograine stood. He removed his helm and looked at his daughter. Though she had only been a Mograine for six months and wanted for nothing, she still never asked for anything. She would wear her clothing to holes before asking for a new dress and even then she would repair them several times herself. He shook his head. She was a beautiful child and never thought of her own well being and upkeep, putting others ahead of herself. She even had a penny jar for spare coins she found and she donated the whole thing to the orphanage every month rather than picking out a new doll to play with. The silly girl made her own dolls from scraps of cloth, straw, and thread. She had sewn together with skill.

He had come from his duties in Icecrown to be there for her first birthday party as his daughter. The offensive to the north, though it was starting to move forward as the land began to thaw, it was still well within the grasp of Highlord Fordring to lead the men until he returned. After all Fordring often traveled to Stormwind on his own affairs leaving Mograine in charge of the two armies. Turn about was fair play, even if Tirion had had to nearly tie him to the gryphon to get him to leave. He saw it as a great bonding opportunity and a time for the new family to be a family.

Darion had left only a few days after her adoption to be with his men leaving his wife and children behind in Stormwind to be together without him during the cold harsh months. He did not feel it, but Helene and her children did. They often had sat by the fire writing letters to Darion, which he received on the battlefront. He had more mail from home than even Tirion Fordring received and that was a feat. He read, answered, and shared all of his mail with his fellow death knights. It seemed to warm their spirits as much as his own, and then only as much as it could happen to an undead.

She was weeping. Tears always made the Death Knight uneasy. He stepped forward and he noted she heard his heavy boots on the cobblestones. She looked up her green eyes full of sadness as she looked up at him. "Daddy!" She gasped.

He reached her and in one quick motion knelt, scooped her up in his arms, and straightened. She hugged him and began to sob more. He held her gently unsure what else to do as he gently rubbed her back as he had seen Helene do with Neumu when she had woken from nightmares and was crying.

She finally managed to gain a hold of herself and pulled back to look at him. He smiled at her and she bent and kissed his cheek. "I love you." She said. "Sorry Daddy. I…I…"

He looked down and saw the graves. He had been told by the Matron she often came here to think. "You miss your parents?"

"Yes, but I have you and Momma now."

He lifted her and settled her in his arms more securely. "Do you know why I am here?"

"No, but I am glad you came."

"I was told you were becoming a year older." He smiled at her. His unearthly white eyes and pale features did not seem to faze the young girl.

"Yes, I suppose. I do not keep track really anymore."

"And what would you like?"

"Truly?"

"Yes, of course." He said walking toward the cemetery entrance, his heavy boots clicking against the flagstones.

"To have the orphanage have cake and ice cream and a day of smiles." She said. "They deserve it." She said.

He paused and looked at her. "Do you ever think of yourself?"

She cocked her head. "I am. I am making my friends happy and so I am happy."

He chuckled, a metallic sound. "Do you ever think of yourself?" He asked again mystified at how much of a giver this girl was. He knew well that Neumu had broken a vase that had been in the castle for centuries less than a week ago. She tried to own up, but Djenni who was both newer to the family home and thinking to save her sister punishment told everyone she had broken it. King Varian had listened to her and in the end demanded one thing from her and Neumu, to join him in the Trade District for ice cream and sweets. He had hated that vase since he was a child and had been the one piece of the Keep he had hoped Doomhammer had smashed to pieces. His granddaughters breaking it made him just smile, though he composed himself long enough to listen and give out the "punishment".

He carried her back to the Keep. Helene was already busily ordering treats for the orphanage since her small new daughter had made it clear of what she had wanted. She was in the hall talking to the master baker when Darion and Djenni came into view. The tiny blood elf and human half girl looked like a doll in her father's arms. Then again any child did. Neumu looked just as small and she was nearly a foot taller.

Darion embraced his wife while still holding Djenni in the crook of his other arm. He kissed Helene deeply and pulled back hearing the soft giggle of his daughter as she watched. Helene smiled and looked at her husband a moment before looking at Djenni. She waved her hand dismissing the baker before leaning in to kiss the small girl.

"Everything will be perfect for you." She said.

zZz

Highlord Darion Mograine had never been a man for parties let alone parties with many screaming children that were so high on sugar they could not keep still. However, he felt he could manage at least for now, since this was for his daughter.

Djenni had several presents and as she sat in her new dress and shoes at a table watching her friends run around Cathedral Square playing tag, she felt very much at ease.

"Enjoying yourself, little one?" A deep voice asked her from her left.

She turned and then jumped up and bowed. It was the King of not only Stormwind, but the Alliance who stood near her. The King was huge compared to her petite frame and made even more so by his great armor. His sword was sheathed at his side and he calmly regarded her, his gray eyes watching her with amusement.

"Come now, child, I am your grandfather now, no need to be bowing to me like a peasant." He held out a hand.

She took it and looked up at him, her eyes bright, but without fear.

"I did not think your highness would come to such an affair."

He stepped to her and winked. "I am here for the cake." He then gently patted her head. "Oh yes, it is your birthday is it not?" He grinned. "I would bring your gift, but your mother swore she would have my head if I brought her within the walls of the Cathedral and let her soil the flagstones."

She blinked unsure.

"My wife's, your grandmother's, the Queen's mare has given birth to a beautiful filly. She is not yet named, but she will grow to be delicate and surefooted." He grinned. "The perfect mount for the daughter of a duchess," He mused.

"Your highness, grandfather, I…that is too much. Isn't there other grandchildren that come before me?"

He laughed and lifted her in his arms. "For that reason I know you are deserving." He smiled and kissed her cheek. "Come now. It is my job to spoil you."

"But you already have." She protested.

"Ah, but not every day of your life. That is to come, my dear." He said. He then hugged her lightly. "It does my old heart good to have such life near me. The more grandchildren the better as far as I am concerned. More to keep my attention, devote my love to, and get hugs and smiles from."

She flashed a smile and he grinned back.

"See, exactly so." He said. For a man who had been a warrior all his adult life and been through many trials, Varian did have a soft side. People rarely saw it, but he did not wish to frighten the poor child. It was true, his grandchildren soothed his soul and he loved them, one and all.

She looked at him and then touched his face feeling the scar unbidden. He allowed the gentle touch. She looked as though she wished she could help him somehow. He chuckled. "Not everything can be fixed by your hand, little giver, but I assure you, you have a soothing touch."

She retracted her hand almost instantly and looked at him wide eyed as if she realized what she had done. "Forgive me."

"Curiosity, never, since there is nothing to forgive." He kissed her cheek again and then turned hearing Helene call for Djenni. "Ahhh duty calls, my dear."

Helene smiled at her step father who set the little girl on the earth and then took her hand to take her to the presents. She had several gifts from the King and Queen who stood nearby watching. She had two from Aramathea, one from the orphanage, many from her parents, many from her aunts and uncles, even one from Highlord Fordring, and one from Neumu, her new sister. The draenei girl had made her a picture of the whole family together by the lake.

Djenni burst into tears at all the gifts for her. She had never had her own things and it was alien to her. She took a moment to compose herself as her father held her gently and Neumu touched her. She put on a smile for the children watching and thanked everyone.

Thea and Anduin collected her to take her for a gryphon ride around the city. It had been one of her few requests she had mentioned and Anduin was determined to let her have that wish above all else. Once in the air she spread her arms. She was free and felt at peace in the air.

Anduin smiled at her reaction and held her about her waist as they few around the city above the buildings until the young girl had had her fill. When they returned the party had been cleaned up. Darion carried his daughters to his Death Charger and lifted them onto the undead horse's saddle. The mount turned his head to regard them before he turned his head back. His master pulled on his reins and walked him toward the Keep.

The Keep was merry and the evening meal had all of Djenni's favor foods. When she was too full to eat anymore, the Mograines took her to their rooms, had her take a quick bath, and then put her to bed. As he closed the door, Darion regarded his wife as she picked up the papers that had fallen from the gifts. He looked back through the crack in the door and saw that she already slept with her arm about the doll he had given her. Though it was simple, he had a feeling she would like it. He smiled. Fordring had been right. The doll was a good choice.

He shut the door and walked to his wife who sat down with a cup of tea in her heads. "Our daughters are beautiful and will grow to be beauties to rival the fairytales of the land."

She laughed. "With a Death Knight father to protect their virtue."

"Indeed." He said. "Perhaps I should sharpen my blade now, eh?" He mused.

She chuckled and slapped his arm playfully.

He took a cup of tea and held it in his cool, pale hands. "She is a giving spirit. She does not think she deserves anything we have given her, including a family."

"She will learn." Helene said.

"Yes. She is a Mograine now, daughter of a Highlord. She will want for nothing." He said and sipped the tea. "Come wife." He said finishing it. "Let's to bed."

She finished her own and set it beside its mate before taking her husband's hand.