It was dark. However, it was a different dark then the last time she had awaken, and the last time her eyes were open. The priestess looked up and saw glittering stars, gently dusting the sky. Below her, the dirt was cool, and she shivered, pulling her cloak around her tighter.

She let out a cry of agony, as her side felt like it was splitting in two. She took out a small dagger, where she tore a chunk of her robe apart, and examined her side in the darkness. She focused on a dark color around her ribs, and concluded that she must have broken a rib or two. Orlaith forced herself to rise from her spot, and she realized that she was alone. She muttered a curse under her breath, and summoned her mount. She let a few tears roll down her cheeks as every breath she took felt like her chest was being ripped apart. She carefully got on her faithful saber, as he realized that there was a problem with his master. Orlaith slowly pulled out her tracker, and turned it on. The green dot started blinking deep within Thunder Bluff. She cursed again. That bastard had left her to rot in the desert. She felt lucky that a prowler hadn't made a meal out of her skinny, unconscious body. The priestess gave her mount a little kick, letting him know to travel slowly, and they headed towards Thunder Bluff.

Kayalos was in the local bar, once again sitting in a far corner, downing his alcohol to drown out the screams that haunted his sleep. The paladin took another drink before the thought of Orlaith came into his head again. Maybe he should go find her, and take her to Darnasass, and make her forget about wars and tell her to just find a local man to make her happy. He shook his head in anger, feeling a swelling twinge of pain in his gut. Why should he help the weak? He drank down more of his alcohol and ordered another Caraway Burnwine. He watched the slender blood elf barmaid wander around, serving her guests. She looked at him, gave him a small grin, and quickly looked away before he could respond. Maybe she could chase away whatever was haunting him tonight. He shook the feeling off, knowing loneliness was a weakness he couldn't afford. For now, burnwine would suffice.

It was well after midnight, as he stumbled up to his room. He kicked the door of his room open, and sat down at the desk, where Akken had written him the instructions for tomorrow. He reviewed them in his head.

"1. Be upbeat, Amuuru needs to see that, 2. Don't talk of any battles or war, 3. Don't pick a fight in front of her, and 4. Bring her something nice."

Amuuru was a Tauren shaman, and Akken's mother. Amuuru was the only thing closest to a parent he ever had, and she was dying. When he was turned away from learning magic at Silvermoon, The shaman took him in, raised him beside her nephew. Akken's parents were killed by the Alliance almost immediately after he was born, so she was raising him. Kayalos hadn't seen his foster mother in years, but she had written him frequently since he left for Northrend.

Suddenly, a knock came at his door. He figured it had to be the barmaiden. He was used to women coming to his quarters late at night. Some more passionate than others in their pursuit of him. However, he wasn't in any mood for such company tonight. He went to the door, and answered it, ready to give a handful of excuses to the barmaiden, when a cloaked figure stood in his doorway.

"You wretch," it hissed, angrily, before collapsing in his arms. He held the figure up to prevent falling, and the helm of the cloak fell at the maiden's shoulders. Her white hair fell to her waist, and he stood there in astonishment.

"Orlaith?" He whispered, kicking the door shut, and pulling her upright. Suddenly, he didn't feel so drunk anymore.

"I'll kill you," she said through clenched teeth, "Say your last prayers." She grasped her dagger in her palm.

"By the light," he held her, as she tried to regain her footing, but her knees failed her as they buckled. The priestess cursed. She quickly, but weakly pushed the dagger into his shoulder armor, and tried to push him away. But the dagger fell to their feet, the plate deflecting the blow, and he held her tighter, pulling her closer to him.

"How did you get here?" He demanded.

"None of it matters," she tried to fight, but her weakened and abused body, refused to obey. The paladin seemed to understand, as he lifted her from her feet, and carried her to the bed. She moaned in pain as he lowered her to the sheets.

"Let me go!" She demanded, trying to get up from the bed, but he pushed her back down, she cried out in pain again.

"What?" He let her go, as she struggled. "Stop moving! You're making whatever it is worse!" She thought for a minute, and gave in to his logic, her side begging for relief. She moaned, clutching the blankets in her palms as her knuckles grew white.

"Show me," he demanded. "I can help." She let out a cruel laugh.

"Don't make me laugh," she growled.

"It's either me, or the horde prison guard. Which is where you're going if you keep screaming like that." She stopped laughing. Suddenly, she realized what she had done, sneaking past the guards and up to his room. Orlaith had successfully infiltrated Thunder Bluff, but she left herself no way out. Not to mention he still lived, and she needed strength to kill this blood elf. So she gave in.

"You-" she gasped, "broke-" she pulled the torn cloth up, exposing her ribs. It looked much worse in the light than it had out in the starlight. The area had turned a pure black, as the blood pooled under the skin. The paladin's expression changed to his stern battle-face.

"I'm sorry," he apologized. He removing his plated gloves, placing it on the floor beside her. "I'm going to see where it broke, okay?" He warned, holding his bare hand above her exposed midsection. She whimpered, but nodded. He gently pressed on her first rib, which she cried out in agony. He saw a tear roll down her cheek, as he removed his hand. Kay looked at her, as the priestess stared at the wall opposite from him, holding up her cloak and robe so he could examine her. He pulled out an earthroot that Akken had given him. Alchemists like him came in handy in times like these.

"Here, bite down on this," he instructed. She eyed him, suspiciously.

"This is the second time," she glared, "I've gotten in this situation."

"We're enemies, remember?" Kayalos glared back. Just because she kept getting in the way, didn't mean he had to be gentle. She took the earthroot from him.

"Then why are you helping me?" She demanded. The priestess's glare seared into him, but he pressed another rib, and she cried out.

"Well that one's broken, too," he declared, and he was about to move to the next rib, when she quickly put the root in her mouth and braced herself for the next test. He put pressure on the next few ribs surrounding the bruised area, and then got up to get her some water.

"Congratulations, you have three broken ribs," he said, handing her the flask as she gulped it down. She choked on it, coughing, and Kay sat down next to her on the bed, taking the flask from her. She fell back down to the bed, her silver hair opening like a fan out on the pillow. She felt her energy draining, but the pulsing pain from her ribs. She closed her eyes wishing she were stronger. "So, what do plan on doing?" Kayalos asked, as he stood up and walked to the dresser, where there was pitcher of water and a washbowl.

"What do you mean?" She demanded, sitting up, wincing at the pain. "I'm here to kill you." Kayalos ignored her as he splashed the cool water on his face. He toweled off and walked back to her, his plate boots thumping on the wooden floor.

"If you think you can fight me now, go for it." He challenged. Orlaith pursed her lips together, knowing the truth. She barely had the strength to combat him when she was at her full potential. Now, there was no chance. So the priestess made a decision.

"Then I'll just have to meet you when I'm stronger," she said, and started to get off the bed. She waited for a minute, letting her ribs get used to sitting upright. She felt grinding in her bones, and she shuddered. Her ribs were grinding together when she moved.

"Before you go," Kayalos started, he dug through his bags, and pulled out another root, "eat this. It'll subside the pain."

"I'll eat it later," she said, taking it from him and putting it in her sack. She started to stand up when the paladin moved in front of her.

"You'll make it further. Besides, you can run around Thunder Bluff wounded. That's way too suspicious." He informed her. "If you get caught, you'll be killed on the spot for entering Horde territory." Orlaith bit her lip. The paladin had a point. She removed the root, and took a bite.

"Well, it's not as bitter as I thought," she said, taking another bite. The texture was hard and a little gritty, but it had a sweet taste, almost like butter. After she finished half, she put the rest in her bag. Kayalos still stood before her, blocking her way. He stared at her, in a different way than he had been looking at her all night. Instead of anger, it was replaced with something else. She couldn't think what exactly the expression was, or what he was probably thinking, but it was definitely less harsh than before. She scooted a few inches away from him so she could stand up comfortably. This time, the pain had subsided a little. She looked down at her side, still bruised and ugly, and then she looked at the blood elf.

"Thank you for the pain reliever," she said. He said nothing, but still kept giving her that intense look. "Um, it's not polite to stare." She said, suddenly feeling warm. She looked away, towards the door, and started to move towards it.

"It wasn't wise for you to come here," he ordered. Orlaith froze in her tracks, and her attention snapped back to him.

"What?"

"It would've been easier if you had stayed out there," the paladin said, taking a step closer to her, some of his dark golden hair fell over his eyes as he looked down to her level.

"It doesn't matter now, I'm," she felt a little dizzy. The priestess swayed a little, and she grabbed the paladin's steady shoulders to right herself. The paladin gently held her, and smelled the earth in her hair as she brushed up close to him. He found himself wishing to be rid of his plate armor. Orlaith looked up to him, her body responding to his strong arms holding her steady. She felt her pulse quicken and white-hot electricity surging up from her lower back and shoulder, where he held onto her. The touch was almost unbearable, her body begging for him to answer it's call. His strong lines of his face beckoned her, and suddenly his face came closer to hers. Orlaith's heart pounded beneath her breast, and he seized her lips in his. The world started spinning, but all she could feel right then and there was the hot electricity that surged through her body. She couldn't breathe with his strong lips to hers. She felt his warm breath on her cheek as he breathed out. It felt good, it was like answering a question she didn't even know was there, and then she felt the world fading around her, but it wasn't as blissful. This feeling was alarming, and she pushed him back a little.

"K-kay?" she said, leaning her body weight into his arms, knees buckling, and clinging to his armor to keep herself from falling over. "W-what's happening?" She felt light, as he lifted her up into his arms, her knees under one arm, her head falling to his chest, and the vibrant colors of the room suddenly turning gray. She looked up to the paladin's face, with the same gentle expression as she had observed him staring at her moments before. He was the last thing she saw before fainting again.

It's about time that sedative kicked in, Kayalos thought to himself, as he gently rested the priestess on his bed. She looked so peaceful, her face relaxed. He followed the contours of her face, her high cheekbones and her small nose which slightly pointed upward at the tip. He followed the lines to her ruby lips, where she had accepted his kiss. He also had drugged her, so who knows what she would have really done had he kissed her with her emotions in check. He chuckled to himself, as he put on his gloves, and grabbed a bag. He locked the door behind him, but not without stealing another glance at the priestess resting in his feather bed.

He wandered to Amuuru and Akken's home in Spirit Rise. There, he woke his friend up from his slumber in a hammock. The tauren yawned and stretched.

"Kay." He sounded annoyed. "Do you have any idea what time it is? She isn't going to be up for a while."

"She came back. The priestess." The paladin informed him. The tauren's eyes widened.

"I don't believe it." He swung his feet around and rubbed his eyes. "She's got spirit, I'll give her that."

"She's wounded." Kayalos said, sounded as if he was telling the tauren the weather.

"How in Azeroth did she-" The warrior stopped and grew pensive. "Your tackle from the mammoth, or even the blow to the head would have done her good. So what is it? What can I do?"

"I'll need more of that sedative, some bandages, and" He stopped for a moment. "What else does a few broken ribs need?" The tauren buried his face in his huge hands.

"Hell, Kay," Akken mumbled.

"She's a night elf. It doesn't matter." The paladin said coldly.

"Yes," Akken admitted, but stared back at him just as cold, "then why are you here?" The blood elf glared at his friend.

"There are plenty of alchemists in this town, I can find another." Kayalos spun on his heel, and started for the door, when he heard Akken grumbling.

"Wait, I'll get it," Akken rose to his feet, stumbling around in a tall cabinet. Glass clinked as the bottles of elixirs and potions knocked around together. He finally gathered everything he needed and came to his friend with a few handfuls of potions. "Just keep her breathing steady. There's not much you can do for broken ribs but keep her pain at a minimum. She's going to be in a lot of pain for a few weeks, I suggest you not move her."

"So, what do I do? Keep her here in a Horde City?" The blood elf demanded. His friend just stared at him.

"Three ribs is a lot to break. She is going to have trouble breathing. If you move her, her lung could collapse." Akken eyed him suspiciously. "If you want her to die-"

"Thank you, Akken, I'll see you in the morning," Kayalos took the medicine bottles from him and piled them into his bag. The warrior pulled out bandages and gave them to him.

"You know she can heal herself," he asked. The paladin shrugged.

"How fast?"

"With the ribs? I'd say a week or two. Just keep her sitting for now." The tauren let out a long yawn. "I'm going back to sleep. I suggest you get some shut eye, too." His friend warned. Kay nodded, and with his treasures, the blood elf took his leave.

Kayalos returned to the room, drowsy and with more problems than he really wanted. He removed his chest armor, bracers, and shoulder armor, leaving himself in his tunic. He removed his lower armor too, as he breathed a sigh of relief that the heavy armor was gone, unlike his situation right now. The burden's of others were always ignored. He had lived on his own so long that it never really occurred to him that people might need his help. Kay closed the door behind him, facing it and leaning towards it, he breathed in deep and closed his eyes. What have you gotten yourself into? He demanded from himself. He made a fist, and punched the door as hard as he could. The door splintered and cracked, and the hinges shifted. Suddenly, the priestess behind him stirred. He looked over his shoulder to see her shift her position, and she breathed in deeply. Unfortunately, that put her into a coughing fit. The priestess sat up gently, covering her mouth and wiping her lips. When the coughing subsided she turned to the blood elf. Their eyes locked on each other, and there was silence in the room. However, the gaze of the other was a reaction all on it's own. Orlaith's lip quivered as she was fully awake now, and she gripped the sheets.

There was a sound of liquid dripping on the wood as Orlaith quickly started to look around for the distraction. She found the source and gasped.

"Kayalos," she said, sharply. "Your hand." The paladin looked down at the hand he had just rammed into the wood without his gloves. The skin had broken immediately on contact, and spinters had wedged their way into the muscle of his fingers and knuckles. Blood spilled down his fingers, now pooling at the floor. He shrugged, shaking the blood off as it splattered on the floor and wall.

"Stop that!" Orlaith ordered, staring at him in shock. The paladin stopped and glared at her. He opened his bag to search for bandages, when he heard the creaking of the wooden floor. The priestess limped towards him and stopped inches away. She reached for his damaged hand and examined it.

"You should be asleep," the paladin sneered, as he snatched his hand away from her.

"Stop being difficult," her eyes burned with anger, but she gingerly reached for it again. "It needs healing."

"Ya think?" He demanded, his sour attitude growing worse with her kindness. It almost angered him, but he pushed it down, not wanting to cause a scene for the guards patrolling outside the Inn's walls. The priestess brushed some of her white hair out of her eyes and gripped his forearm.

"Just come sit down. Standing hurts me," she admitted. The paladin reluctantly let her lead him to sit on the edge of the bed, while she observed his battered hand. She used her sleeve to try to wipe some of the blood away. She used her fingers to pick out the splinters. Kayalos gritted his teeth, and balled his other fist as tightly as he could while she pulled flesh back to take the wood out.

"You can't just heal me without doing that?" He said through clenched teeth. Orlaith didn't look up from his hand and continued working.

"I'm not telekinetic, they won't just fly out of there. If I heal you, the splinters will stay inside your hand." She pulled out another splinter from in between his knuckles. He gripped his free hand tighter, turning his knuckles white. "There. I think that was the last one."

"Thank the Light." He hissed.

The night elf closed her eyes and channeled her energy into his large hand. Both of her small hands cradled his, and she meditated on his wound. The paladin watched as she concentrated on him, and his gaze softened. He saw a gentle side of her, much like the side he saw of her back in the cave earlier that day. Her hair started to fall in front of her face, covering part of her from him. The beautiful night elf didn't seem to notice, as she was so concentrated on her healing. He wondered where her life began, and mostly why she was so weak. She had a fighting spirit, but definitely lacked what most horde women had. Horde women had intensity and passion for fighting, but this night elf was different. She was so weak in physical strength, but she had an emotional strength that surprised him. He watched as her pursed lips twitched, and he felt her warm energy transferring into his veins. Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked up at him.

"How did this happen?" The priestess's eyes sympathetic and comforting. Kayalos felt something strange shift in his gut.

"Well," he swallowed, then nodded to the door. The priestess looked towards the damage the wooden door harbored, and her eyes grew wide and her jaw slightly opened. Fear slowly seeped into her throat, making it hard to swallow. The paladin was dangerous indeed, but she choked it back. One thing she could never do was show fear in front of the enemy. Enemy. Her mind mulled over that word for a few seconds. I'm healing the enemy! She concluded, and her energy stopped flowing to him, but she didn't let his hand go. The paladin felt the change in her energy, and felt her fear. When she let her guard down, he felt a sense of dominance rise in his blood. He began to lean toward her when she let his hand go.

"I did what I could, but I fear my spells aren't potent enough for you." She admitted, and shifted her weight uncomfortably.

"How did you get into healing?" The paladin asked again nonchalantly, while he observed his hand. New skin was growing over his wound, and there was a little scabbing.

"There's going to be a scar," she bit her lip. "Like I said-"

"Don't worry about it." Kay interrupted. "But this is a good job, even for a low rank like yourself. What made you turn to healing?" He saw a half of her lip curl into a small half-smile.

"It's funny," she began sheepishly, "but I started it to rebel against my parents when I was a girl. But after the training, I started to really like it. So I just stuck with it I guess." She looked down as her ebony eyelashes fanned her cheeks. "You know how it is with parents." The paladin stiffened, but he held his emotions back. Orlaith responded to his change, as if reading a book.

"Oh," she began, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize-"

"Let's not get into it, okay?" Kay shot up from the bed, and stormed to the washbasin, where he washed the blood off of his hands. Orlaith stared at her own blood-stained hands, empathizing with the paladin. Even though her family sometimes drove her crazy, she was always thankful to have them.

"I'm sorry," she said again. "Did you lose them to the wars?" She guessed. His silence was chilling, but she saw him nod once in the corner of her eye. "You know, my brother always told me, the ones that lose their parents when they are young are chosen to fill that role. He said that the Gods know that people like you are strong enough to stand by themselves." The blood elf just nodded in agreemen, or to get her to quiet down. Orlaith had trouble deciphering what Kay was thinking. He was a tough one to talk to.

"So, I think I should take my leave," she chewed on her lip, and started to stand up, when Kay spun around and stopped her.

"I just saw Akken. He says you need to stay put. You could lose a lung if you move too quickly." The priestess stared into his intense dark green eyes, and then her gaze shifted down to his strong lips. That's when she remembered the kiss they shared earlier. She remembered how passionately she kissed him back, and she blushed. "So, that doesn't seem to scare you, priestess?" He asked.

"Um," she stalled, as she shook her head, "are you sure about that?" All she could think about was leaving, but her body stayed at the foot of Kay's bed.

"You're not going anywhere," he said gruffly, almost enjoying his power over her. He saw her blush a second ago. He knew she was embarrassed with his presence. And after his kiss, he realized she was beginning to enjoy his advances. Kay wondered if anyone had ever sampled the beautiful priestess before. Considering how nervous she was with him, he assumed she was untouched. That made his desire burst into flame. He felt the lust surging up from his stiffening loins to deep within his gut. Orlaith looked up at him and licked the corner of her mouth. He had to hold back a groan of frustration.

"Where will you sleep?" She was almost afraid to ask, fearing they would have to share his bed. The fear was not of what he would do to her, but she feared she could not trust herself with him sleeping beside her. She thought of him shirtless beside her, his tight muscles pressing against her back, and his heat warming her. She shuddered, and tried to gain control of her thoughts.

"I'm fine with the floor," he shrugged, "I've done worse."

"Are you sure?" She asked, almost too fast.

"Why?" A dark smile grew, and some of his hair fell over an eye. "You wish to share my bed?" Orlaith blushed furiously, even her ears changing to bright red.

"N-no," she stammered, "of course not." A deep laugh echoed in Kay's chest, as he put his knee right beside her hip, exposing the area to Orlaith which made him a male. He put his hand to her shoulder, and gently pushed her down to her back. He held himself up with one hand, while the other found its way to her curvy side. He ran his fingers up and down, as he enjoyed the feel of her. Orlaith shivered, as the trail he touched burned with heat. He stared intensely into her glowing eyes, as hers wide with excitement stared back into his green ones. Kay lowered his face to hers, as his teeth ran over her chin, and she moaned. With her response, he seized her lips into his, kissing her gently at first. She kissed him back, and it encouraged him to deepen the kiss. She felt heat rising in between her legs, and something strange and wet. She never felt anything like this before, but it was strangely wonderful. She silently begged that he wouldn't stop. Then, Kay moved his hand up to a soft breast, and caressed it. Her body responded, as her nipple turned hard. He rolled his thumb over it, teasing her, as she gasped in pleasure.

Kay felt himself losing control, as he started removing her robes, exposing her chest. She was even more beautiful than when he saw her in the forest, and he had to have her. The feeling to have her bubbled and started to consume him, and he wanted to mark her as his own. It was a primitive feeling, starting deep in his chest, and it spread to his loins, which were now pressed into Orlaith's soft midsection. He let out a groan, wanting more of her than just this small sample. He knew the way to take them to the pleasure before them, and he could lead them both. And he desperately wanted it with her.

Then, there was a soft knock on the door. Orlaith begged for whoever it was to leave them be. She hadn't felt this before, and was dying to see what Kay had planned for them. He seemed to be ignoring whoever it was, for she had his full attention. But the knocking came again, but it was a little louder this time. Kay cursed angrily, and he looked over his shoulder to the door, then back at the priestess in his arms.

"Go ahead," Orlaith said halfheartedly. "If it's this late it has to be pretty important."

"Maybe," he growled. "Maybe not."

"What if someone saw me come in here?" She started, and her heart skipped a beat that it could be the horde army, ready to take her to her death.

"I doubt it," he growled again, but now the moment was ruined. Kay felt he might as well answer it to avoid any more embarrassed glances from Orlaith. "But I'll check." He gently got off them bed and straitened up. He turned around to the door, and glanced over his shoulder to see her putting on her robe and climbing inside the closet. She locked eyes with him, and it was a disappointed gaze he deciphered. When the closet door shut with her inside, he opened the front door.

"What the hell?" He grumbled to the stranger, and looked down to see the barmaiden from earlier that night standing before him in a blue and white simple dress.

"Oh, forgive me I know it's late," she began with a wolfish grin, "I just wanted some of your time." Kayalos rolled his eyes.

"I know what you seek," he said, sounding very bored, "but I assure you that you will not find it here." The pretty barmaiden's jaw opened slightly, and her eyes narrowed.

"Fine," she snapped. "But you could've had a wonderful night tonight, Kayalos." She spun on her heel, and took off down the hall. Kay slammed the door, as the hinges moaned in protest from the beating earlier. He sighed deeply and ran his hand through his long blonde hair. What a waste. I was having a wonderful night. He looked back to the closet, which opened a crack.

"Who was that?" Orlaith asked timidly.

"No one." He said, going to his bags and pulling out his cloak and some blankets. "Absolutely no one." The priestess gripped the door to the closet, and gulped down a knot in her throat. Calm down. He obviously wasn't expecting her. She told herself, and her heart steadied. She wrapped her robe around her tighter, and walked towards the bed. She watched Kay as he spread his cloak over the ground.

"So you really don't mind me having the bed?" She asked again.

"You're the one with the broken ribs." He stated, and he looked over at the priestess. Her robes were torn and bloody. "Tomorrow I'll get you some new robes. Until now," he reached into his bag and grabbed a tunic. "Just wear this." He tossed it at her, and she caught it.

"Oh my," she smiled a little. "Thank you."

"Forget it," he said gruffly. Orlaith pulled the tunic over her robe, and then removed her robes while she wore the tunic over them, to cover herself. He watched her, and grinned devilishly. "I've already seen, so I wouldn't be so shy." She turned bright red, as the robes fell to her ankles in a pile.

"Well I'll be sure not to make that mistake again," she shot back at him, curtly.

"Priestess," his grin as dark as ever, "I would not go making any promises." Orlaith's jaw dropped a little at his audacity. The lack of taste this blood elf had was both infuriating and thrilling. She gripped the sheets tightly, climbing into the bed and then pulled them tightly around her. The blood elf approached her, and slowly stopped at the bedside. He looked down at her, as their eyes locked on each other, both waiting for the other to move first. The night elf wondered if he had other plans of ravishment waiting for her. She shivered in delight of that thought. Kayalos reached over her, and placed a hand on a pillow next to her. He never broke eye contact, watching her reaction as his body was stretched perfectly for her to admire what the many years of hard labor had done to it. He clutched the pillow in his grasp and moved away from her, and back to where he had set up camp on the floor.

The priestess breathed a sigh to relieve the tension in her body, but also in disappointment. He dropped the pillow on the floor, and removed his shirt, tossing it to the pile of his armor. He turned to blow out the candles on the dresser, and Orlaith got a long stare at the strong muscles in his back, but also of long scars that stretched from his shoulders down to his back. Each scar was thin, long, and perpendicular from each one. The light went out, and her eyes slowly adjusted in the darkness. She tried not to imagine how those scars got there, and fell asleep to the sounds of Kay's gentle breathing.