three

As it turned out, all of her worrying had been for nothing. Tyrande decided that everything about that night was absolutely perfect. The ceremony itself, and the surprise of Malfurion arriving, even the moon itself looked perfect as it hung in the sky. It was so easy to slip into the familiarity of it all, walking alongside her oldest friend, their hands occasionally brushing as they swung between them.

Malfurion had plenty of stories from his long months away. Tyrande had stories to tell too, but her days spent all but locked away in the temple hardly seemed interesting compared to his. She listened to him intently, laughing from time to time, brushing her hair away from her face so she might steal a glance at him.

At some point, their steps had slowed, and Malfurion was able to slip an arm over her shoulder to pull her into his side. "I really did miss you," he told her, his voice low and gentle.

Tyrande was unable to fight off a smile. "I missed you too," she replied. In fact, she didn't even think she realized how much she had missed him, until she had seen him standing there in the entrance to the temple. The way her heart had swelled at the sight of him, and how she instantly felt at peace in his presence. "I hope you aren't planning on leaving again soon," she added.

Her words had been lighthearted and playful, but the look he gave her in response was completely serious. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. Tyrande couldn't help but feel like there was more implied in his words, and she had to lower her gaze to the ground below in attempt to hide her suddenly flustered expression. She shrugged out of his hold, afraid that he would be able to feel her rapid heartbeat as it pulsed through her whole body.

If he was offended by her suddenly pulling away, he did a wonderful job of hiding it. Tyrande continued to walk, but was well aware of him trailing a few steps behind her. She wanted to glance back, see if his expression might give away any of his thoughts, but she didn't dare. Besides, she was attempted to hide her own blush, her skin still tingling from the intensity of his stare and words.

She was distracted only when she heard a soft sound break through the silence that had settled in around the pair. It was barely audible, but still she heard it, a tiny meowing, painful whimpers. Malfurion had started to speak again, but she held up a hand and quieted him quickly. Her brows furrowed slightly as she listened, trying to pick out the direction of the mewls. In a flash of movement she turned and moved. With each step the whines grew louder.

At last she stumbled upon the source. She skidded to a stop among a patch of bushes, Malfurion all but crashing into her small frame as he did the same. "Tyra, what is-"

"Shh," she cut him off with one finger pressed to her lips. With the other hand, she pointed into the shrubs, and his gaze fell upon a small bundle of fur. Curled on the ground lay a small kitten, a striped frostsaber. Its paw was bloodied and badly injured, and the kitten was looking up at the elves with wide, pleading eyes. That was where the whimpering had come from, then.

"She's hurt," Malfurion said, a pang of empathy in his voice. Tyrande supposed that was because of his newly cultivated druidic powers, and his connection to all things living and wild and free.

She nodded, lowering herself gracefully to her knees at the animal's side. "I can heal her," she murmured. She brushed her fingers gently over the black and white fur, smiling slightly when the kitten didn't immediately wince away. "Poor thing," she cooed. Her eyes closing, she cast a flash heal, causing a glowing light to wash over the kitten's body. Malfurion placed a hand on her shoulder, giving her a proud smile.

Tyrande didn't seem to notice, though. She was too busy scooping the saber up into her arms, cradling the small creature, examining its paw. "It seems to be better," she told him then. In a graceful movement, the young elf girl rose to her feet, cuddling the cat against her chest. "I'm going to take her back, and clean her up."

Malfurion certainly wasn't going to protest with her, understanding her need to take care of the little thing. He reached out to gently rub behind the kitten's ear, earning a soft meow. "I'll walk you back," he offered. Tyrande nodded, and fell into step beside him, anxious to get home and take care of the animal. And also, she admitted internally, to get away from the way Malfurion's gaze was so heavy each time it fell on her. Like a pressing weight on her chest that made it hard for her to breathe. She hadn't yet figured out if it was in the good way or not.

At the door to the Temple's living quarters, he reached out to smooth back her hair from her forehead, and took a risk by leaning in to plant a kiss on her skin. Tyrande held her breath and clutched to the kitten, probably tighter than she should have. She relaxed only when he pulled away, and in spite of her rapidly beating heart, managed to muster a smile. "I'm so glad you're home," she told him truthfully, not for the first time that night. "I'll see you tomorrow, perhaps?"

Malfurion nodded his agreement. "Goodnight, Priestess." He bowed his head slightly towards her, a formality that caused her to blush once more, and she darted inside, hoping he hadn't noticed.

…

As promised, Illidan did indeed think about his chance meeting with Maiev after he had left. He recalled the way she had looked up at him with her wide eyes, almost expectant of something, though he hadn't the slightest idea what. He thought of the moonlight reflecting off her soft pink hair and the overly polished armor. But thoughts of Maiev quickly turned to those of Tyrande, and how breathtakingly beautiful she had looked that night, and how he had been so sure that he would finally be able to take her up in his arms and tell her everything.

Leave it up to Malfurion to show up and ruin all of that for him. His perfect brother, who was everything Illidan himself could never be, who knew exactly what he wanted to be and do, and was well on his way to getting all of those things. Illidan felt a sudden anger coursing through his veins, and no matter how hard he tried to shove it back down, it kept rising.

By the time he reached his house, it was impossible to ignore his frustration at the whole situation. For an entire year, Malfurion had been gone. And who had been there to support Tyrande, to quiet all of her fears about joining the Sisterhood? Who had been the one helping her practice the novice spells, and keeping her company when she had to study long into the night? And who had held her, felt her heartbeat in her chest, as they lay out under the stars and the moon?

Illidan scowled a little. Raising a hand, he closed his eyes and blocked out the thoughts as best he could, concentrating until he felt a surge of power move through him. When he opened his eyes, he saw that he had conjured a small flower. It flickered a little in the cool night breeze, as a candle might, threatening to vanish if he didn't focus on it. He felt a little pride at the sight of it, the faint purple glow around it.

It offered only a slight distraction from his thoughts, though, and as they crept back in, the magical petals of the flower began to wilt, falling away until they fizzled out. The more he thought about Tyrande, and about Malfurion, the faster the spell broke.

He was concentrating hard on trying not to let it dissipate completely, and so he didn't even notice that he wasn't alone, until a cat that had appeared out of nowhere was suddenly pouncing him on. Illidan grunted as his body hit the ground, hands flying out behind him. He was ready to attack, but stopped when the cat stepped away, and slowly shifted forms to reveal his brother sitting on the grass beside him, laughing.

Illidan brushed his disheveled black hair away from his face and pushed himself up to his feet. "I highly doubt that was what you were trained to use those skills for," he muttered, brushing off his knees.

Malfurion also rose, still smiling at his twin brother. "Well, at least we know I can use them," he retorted teasingly. A moment of silence passed between them, before he added, "I saw you conjuring. You've gotten quite good, Illidan."

The younger of the two was surprised by the compliment, and he couldn't help but smile a little in return. "I've had time to practice," he said. "I just...don't know what I am supposed to do next."

Malfurion nodded in understanding. They were all at that age now, where they were expected to find the path they would take, their place in the world. He and Tyrande had found their calling already, and had taken the first steps in their training. But Illidan just seemed lost, unsure of what he was supposed to do or where he was supposed to go. Malfurion was worried for his brother, though he could never quite place why.

Anyway, this was supposed to be a happy day, and he had missed him too much to try and pick a fight with him only a few hours after returning. "Let's go inside," he suggested. "We have so much catching up to do."

Illidan nodded in agreement. He really had missed his brother, missed the closeness they had shared in their younger days. Back when it had been the three of them, the brothers and Tyrande, and nothing and no one could ever come between them. Things felt different now that they were older. They had their own duties to see to, and the last year of Malfurion's absence had confirmed to Illidan that nothing was ever going to be able to return to normal for them. Their days of childhood innocence were over.

Malfurion was able to sense that his brother was slipping back into his own head. He crossed the room to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I know something is troubling you," he said seriously. "But I also know you enough to know you're going to tell me you don't want to talk about it."

"I don't want to talk about it," Illidan replied immediately. His lips twitched at the corners, a sure sign that he was trying very hard to remain composed and hide his own amusement.

Malfurion rolled his eyes. "Fine," he scoffed, though it was obvious he was playing along, just as his brother was. They had always been so argumentative, but most of the time it was more in a joking manner than any serious sort of fighting. "What do you want to talk about, then?" He asked. He moved to the table and dropped down into one of the chairs there, pushing a few unruly strands of hair away from his face. Being out in the wild for so many months had left it long and unkempt. It was a small price to pay for all that he had been able to learn, for the things he had never expected he would be able to do.

"How was your night with Tyrande?" Illidan blurted out, coming to sit across from him. The words were biting. That was actually the last thing he actually wanted to talk about. But it was the first thing on his mind, and so it was the first thing that came out of his mouth.

Malfurion frowned a little, picking up on the crispness of his tone. "It was nice," he said slowly, unsure of what exactly Illidan was asking. "I missed her a lot while I was gone. I was so scared that I might come back and find she was with someone else."

Illidan resisted the urge to sneer at the gentleness with which his brother spoke of Tyrande. Under the table his hands had clenched into fists. Of course he knew how Malfurion felt for her. Or at least, how he had felt before setting off into the world. By the looks of things, those feelings hadn't faltered at all in his absence. And suddenly, he got the feeling that none of it mattered. None of his nights with her over the past months mattered at all. Every moment he had spent with her would fade from her memory, blotted out by Malfurion being here now.

The elf shook his head a little, hoping to clear away some of those darker thoughts. Trying to quiet that same rage that had begun to cultivate in his veins. "I'm going to bed," he said suddenly, pushing away from the table and rising to his feet. He didn't want for a reply, just started out of the room.

Malfurion knew better than to try and stop him. When Illidan was in a mood, there wasn't much that could calm him down. The older twin wasn't exactly sure what he had done to upset him, but he didn't spend too much time dwelling or trying to figure it out. Whatever it was, Illidan would surely get past it sooner or later, just as he always did. Malfurion very much doubted there was anything that could ever actually come between them.

Illidan closed his bedroom door a bit too hard, leaning his back against it. He tried to focus on his breaths as they moved in through his nostrils and filled his lungs. Tried to will his heartbeats to slow to a less audible pace. He would not lose her, he thought to himself. Not after trying so hard, and coming so close. He would not allow Malfurion to walk right back into their lives and steal the one thing Illidan had ever worked for. He loved her more than he had ever known to be possible, and he cursed himself repeatedly for waiting so long to tell her that. But Illidan would do whatever it took, stop at nothing, go to the ends of the world and then beyond. Somehow, he would show her how he felt. He just prayed to Elune, and whoever else might be listening, that she would feel the same.