A/N:

Hey guys! I know I'm late, but I'm always late, so you're probably used to it by now. Here's chapter four, unbeta'd.

I saw some horrendous mistakes in grammar and sentence structuring (not to mention incorrect word use) while re-reading the story a couple of days ago.

I must apologize – I don't have a beta, and I sadly won't be doing any kind of re-write of those chapters any time soon as I'm quite constricted time-wise.

(You can tell, I know. I'm sorry for not updating earlier, but ... I'm a lazy arse.)

Thanks for the support and your many reviews which keep me going and keep making me want to write for all of you.

I generally give answers to reviews in PMs or by explaining within the chapters, so I suggest you read them carefully. :)

Also, first proper cliff-hanger ending of the story. You'll see. :)

First Posted: 16th August 2013

Disclaimer: Refer to previous chapters.

Chapter 4: What is Dead May Never Die

One thing that Apollo had realized on his own was that there had been a trade-off between him and the pendant he was wearing, instead of him simply losing a bit of his essence to power the symbolic jail. He had the positively disturbing ability to literally stare someone into madness.

The beggar who had caught him at an inopportune moment was proof of that. He had mistakenly tried to get between Apollo and one of his men, the former trying to discipline the later verbally, and instead of seeing reason, the old beggar had seen something in his mind, through his eyes, that had literally caused him to lose his sanity and go stark raving mad.

His men didn't even bother him with trivialities since the incident, following him as unquestioningly and as loyally as the myrmidons were rumoured to have followed Achilles.

Arthas' return marked the beginning of a new era of pain and hopelessness for the humans. Their largest kingdom lay practically in ruins, its inhabitants massacred by the thousands at the hands of the still active Cult of the Damned; the greatest Paladin of them all, Lord Uther Lightbringer had been killed in single combat against the King-(and arguably more importantly 'kin')-slayer Arthas Menethil.

When Arthas had still concentrated on freeing the Cult of the Damned in Lordaeron and the upper half of the eastern kingdoms, Sylvanas and her rangers had decided that enough was enough and that they wouldn't be able to defend their own homes if they didn't fall back in time to raise their defences.

This was where Apollo came in. Jaina had sent along a message to him, stating the situation back home and that it was direr than before. She pleaded for him to help her (and his) old friends and family, to which Apollo reluctantly agreed.

Now, he was busy tormenting one of the few living members of the Cult of the Damned still in Lordaeron for Arthas' current position. Yes, it was torture.

The action or practice of inflicting severe pain on someone as a punishment or in order to force them to do or say something is known as torture. However, the kind of torture Apollo was causing on the woman in front of him would leave the most hardened war veterans vomiting on the floor. Aesthetically, there was very little wrong with her – in fact, one could almost argue that Apollo took better care of his prisoners than of his own troops – apart from the fact that her eyes were dripping tears of blood. She had a few scratches on her arms where she was harming herself, but otherwise she looked healthy.

No, what was wrong with her was the inside of her head and body.

Apollo had long since decided that he would leave Anya to interrogate any prisoners or persons of interest his forces caught. This one, however, deserved special treatment from him: she had poisoned the food supplies for his whole camp; soldiers that were not his but were for the moment the only forces the broken Order of the Silver Hand could muster, and thus were entrusted to him with the duty of protecting the last vestiges of human power in the north.

(The situation was dire.)

What the unfortunate woman in front of him had ended up doing, however, was inadvertently stabbing Anya whilst aiming for Apollo, as he had not been affected by the weak but widespread poisoning of the supplies.

Anya survived but was now resting, and Apollo was furious.

The mind of a sentient being is generally a rather fragile thing – it takes little to worm ones way to another's mind – and yet it is a marvellous thing. It takes far more skill and strength to break one from the inside – unfortunately for the woman, Apollo wasn't skilled enough to do so subtly.

The woman was blubbering incoherently at the current point of time, her whole mind a complete and utter mess, speckled with instances of cohesion whereupon she would freeze in the face of Apollo in her mind. Her behaviour was erratic, too; sometimes she would gaze lewdly at him, gesturing him to edge forward while at others she would scream as loud as possible, backing away (mentally) in terror of the formidable demigod in front of her.

A short while later Apollo emerged from the tent with a frown on his face. He had gotten what he wanted; he knew of Arthas' plans. What that did not do, though, was help him in anyway – Arthas was in command of the Scourge armies the dreadlords and the Cult of the Damned had created; what was more horrifying was that they were heading north. Arthas had set his sights on the Sunwell, with the intention of resurrecting the mage Kel'Thuzad.

Apollo needed to warn Sylvanas, urgently, lest she fall to an undeserving fate.

"Roderick, Payton, gather the men. It is time."

"At once, Milord."

Nodding to the two interim commanders of the merged coalition of human forces, Apollo went on his way towards the High Command tent. The guerrilla warfare they had been conducting had just escalated from scouting and sniping to full frontal assault against the legions of undead in service of the Scourge dreadlords and Arthas. Apollo cursed himself once more – he knew it was a bad idea leaving Arthas behind on Northrend, free to be manipulated by the spirit inside Frostmourne.

Yes, it would be much better with you as the manipulator, traitor of the light.

Apollo squashed down the rebellious thought like the insignificant bug that it was before frowning at the logistics involved in marshalling the armies properly. He had asked the mages still with him to conserve their strength while deciding that the priests and paladins with him were strong enough to keep exhausted all the time, overworking his foot soldiers in the process.

Infantry was expendable, to him, as long as his larger plans were carried out effortlessly.

A few dozen dying left or right was not that big a deal.

The thoughtlessness displayed for his soldiers life may have shocked some – Aegwynn, for instance – but ever since Apollo and the others displayed the Light's greatest power and miracle to them, the troops became true fanatics to the cause.

After all, even if a resurrection is extremely tiring for one of the light to carry out, it does mean that those who have died may come back to life, to fight another day. Apollo silently mused on the first time he and his fellow priests and paladins had reached the site of a failed raid against the Cult of the Damned – thankfully, the humans weren't able to resurrect those who had already died as part of the undead scourge, and thus had left the corpses there to rot and fade into the ravaged ground.

While Aegwynn (who had joined him at Jaina's insistence and at his soldiers' relief) and the 1st legion of the Order watched, the practitioners of the Light all joined their hands and concentrated on their dead allies around them.

A long hour of chanting later, many of them collapsed from the strain and waited anxiously to see the results of their conviction.

They were rewarded by the sight of all their fallen allies staggering back upright, their wounds and missing limbs re-attached and healed, greatly raising the morale of the army and increasing their faith in the Blessed Light.

Apollo himself had shouldered a lot of the requirement for the casting and had fallen to his knees upon completion of the spell, much to the alarm of his friends, and had been hailed as a hero and blessed spirit along with all the priests and paladins present by the average soldier.

His musings were cut short when the object of his obsessions caught up with him.

"I see you are making the final preparations to march against Arthas, Lightwielder."

Slightly perplexed, Apollo turned to face Aegwynn. "Lightwielder?"

She chuckled before replying. "That is what the soldiers have taken to calling you, milord. They have witnessed a miracle closely guarded by ye of the Light, forcefully unveiled by current circumstances."

Apollo gave a small grunt before sending her a questioning look. Aegwynn sighed – had she not been slightly harsh to Apollo over the past few months, their positions would be quite different right now. She felt the attraction to the demigod and knew that he returned it, albeit in a more possessive way than she was accustomed to.

"Look, Apollo, we have to sort these ... tensions out if we are to work cohesively with each other. I have caused you much trouble over the past few weeks, and I apologize for that. You must understand, though, you bear a heavy burden, one that I have personally seen destroying the life of so many of my close friends and family."

Apollo gave her a rueful smile before answering. "Was Basilan close to you, milady?"

Aegwynn smiled before answering. "Yes, he was a good friend to me. I do believe he saw me as a mother figure, and I saw him as my son, to make up for my failures with Medivh. I could not in good conscience see you the same way before assuring myself that you would not destroy his legacy."

Apollo gave her a small chuckle before unsheathing his sword and polishing it.

Aegwynn smiled briefly before continuing. "No, not that legacy." She paused, peering deeply into Apollo's vivid eyes, searching for something she did not seem to find. She decided instead to test him.

"You are still intact, from what I can see, milord."

Apollo gave a snarl at that. "I am not another one of your experiments, girl! I have existed for a long time, without help from anyone, and I certainly do not need anyone questioning my sanity!"

If Aegwynn noticed his slip-up, she did not say anything. Deep down, though, she knew. When Apollo had first approached her, he was afraid that the piece of the Old God around his neck was slowly influencing him, taking over control of his mind, and he felt powerless to stop it. He had said so himself, and now he was in danger.

He gazed momentarily into Aegwynn's eyes in return, desperately pleading for help and forgiveness, for someone to hold his nightmares at bay.

The brief moment of weakness was almost imperceptible before his inner walls were slammed back up, the turmoil inside hidden from others, but it was not quick enough for Aegwynn to miss it. She sucked in her breath before gesturing for him to accompany her, leading him away from his intended destination to take a little detour.

Apollo, meanwhile, was incredulous as to the happenings around him – when had he become so open, so miserably human, so badly inconstant? He was drowning in the warring feelings inside him – the uncontrollable rage and disgust he felt at times, and the immeasurable love and relief he felt – and did not refuse Aegwynn when she entered her private quarters and dragged him to her bed, sitting him down beside her and consoling him. The maddeningly slow brushes of her hands on his back weakened his resolve and inflamed his obsession, and for a moment he was afraid that the shivers along his spine were actually arcane burns inflicted by the angel beside him.

He turned to her with a sorrowful gaze before bringing his head down on her shoulder, sighing deeply as he did so. Aegwynn knew his infatuation with her was merely that – obsession and curiosity – and she was determined not to make him hate her later on by pursuing something that would only disappear.

With that in mind, she lifted her right hand up and cupped Apollo's face, burning as it was to her touch, and ran her thumb along his lips. She hadn't moved from her position with him resting against her, and so did not turn her head to place the customary kiss on his forehead.

"It will be alright," she whispered, "as long as we believe, as long as we live, we will not fail, we will not drown."

Apollo's croaked out a single word, sudden realization coming crashing over him as to what his necklace entailed and how it had turned him, before choking out a half strangled sob at his actions.

"I did this, you know," he whispered back to her, his voice becoming increasingly anxious and strangely desperate, "I did this to Arthas. To my own friend... nay, brother!"

Aegwynn sighed before deciding the argument would be better handled at later time, and the blame game could be carried out later. For now, she needed her commander calm and confident, just like when his darker side was in control. "Yet you could not have prevented it from happening; I saw your memories, dear one. We cannot change the past, and so we must change the future."

She brought a shuddering Apollo to lie on her lap, the full implications of his previous actions coming down upon him once more, and knew it was time to tone down the intensity of her mental clarity spell.

"How do you bear it, Aegwynn, the loss of control? How do you live with what you've done?"

She knew he wasn't directly questioning her decisions, merely asking in general, but it irritated her nevertheless. This child thought he was good enough to lead an empire – even if while under the influence of an Old God, clearly – and he had the audacity to question why he failed afterwards. It was both laughable and pitiful. She mentally growled at Basilan's decision to hand his pendant to an immortal – of course that moronic man would think Apollo was Uther the second. There was a reason why she didn't directly help his family when begged to help with the curse.

She knew this would happen, and had prepared accordingly. No Old God was going to best her.

Not the Last Guardian of Tirisfal, Magna Aegwynn, Vanquisher of Sargeras.

.oOo.

Apollo strode into the High Command tent without so much as a glance to the startled figures standing on either side before taking his seat at the high table.

He had gotten over his moment of weakness, and he was back in control. Somehow, the Old God had managed to seep a sliver of his consciousness through the partitioned mind and had temporarily brought out his darker side once more, something which disturbed him greatly. Aegwynn's help was instrumental in getting rid of the parasite hiding in his head before she conceded to a secret that made him extremely angry.

She had explained herself before casting the spell: she did not trust him fully at first, even though he explained the full circumstances surrounding his arrival on this planet, and she did not know if he truly behaved as he claimed. After having watched him the recent few months, however, she acquiesced that he would be better off with the power-switch spell on the pendant, forcing the Old God inside to expend his limited energy to hold his jail dimension together instead of it borrowing energy from Apollo to do so.

The Barrows Edict was a curse no longer, effectively, but for some reason Apollo could not regain his lost power – Aegwynn's theory being that the Old God had created a dimensional loop through which the extra power was constantly absorbed and nullified – a final act of revenge.

In essence, the funnel used to channel his immense power would remain narrow.

Apollo turned his gaze towards the people at the high table, acknowledging each of them and their stature, analyzing their mood and morale. It seemed luck was on his side – they were all slightly anxious but nevertheless looked too relaxed to give the feeling that they felt their situation was unsolvable.

"Greetings, ladies and gentlemen. You know why you're here; let's begin with the situation report. Roderick, if you would..."

"Yes, of course, milord." Said commander brought out a map of the Eastern Kingdoms before pointing to key locations along it. "As you can see, this is the most direct route Arthas can take to reach the Sunwell. If we know him and his tactics well, he's not one for subtlety." He turned to Apollo for reassurance and received an acquiescing nod in return. "As such, he will most likely gather all of his strength together and push for bulldozing his way to destination."

He took a pause and gestured to Payton, who quirked up his eyebrows in annoyance before standing up and continuing. "We are going to intercept him here, near the Amani pass, and here, twenty leagues south of Silvermoon City." He cut off all the questions he could see were on everyone's lips. "Yes, we are splitting our main assault force in two. The heavy defences and slower troops will march to hold the position near Silvermoon, thanks to the Lady Sylvanas Windrunner's help, who has agreed to set up portals for us, while the lighter scouts and shock troopers will pursue and harry the much slower undead abominations and siege monsters at the Amani pass. Yes, once again, we will be getting help from the Farstriders, who have already set up numerous traps."

"Would it not be smarter to keep the infantry contingent at Silvermoon and instead send the cavalry to fight the slower scourge troops?"

Payton replied with a smirk. "You misunderstand me. That is exactly what we are doing. You see, the light cavalry scouts have become the shock troopers, while we have worked overtime with our mages to enchant our infantry's armour up to shape to take a hit from a battering ram. The downside, of course, is that they are now much slower, as they have literally become walking demolishers."

Apollo himself was quite surprised by this development, as he had not taken any particular interest in the current technologies available to him, more focused on the guerrilla warfare talking place. Now that it was time for actual frontal combat, though, he was annoyed he didn't take a greater interest in the proceedings. Fortunately for him, everyone else at the table was just as shocked, if Alana's wide-eyed look was any indication.

"What we do now require, however, is support from the dwarves."

"Dwarves?"

"Yes; more specifically, we need aerial support, and they are the only known gryphon keepers we have access to." Payton chuckled, and elaborated.

"Unfortunately for us, the Scourge has plenty of gargoyles and other undead creatures that would fight from range, such as banshees and the lich. We do not have advantage in that regard, because our archers can only fire their blessed arrows so far, and a banshee is very hard to even hinder physically. We cannot tire our mages out by having them fight against all flying creatures and the banshees, which is why we need aerial combatants."

"Well, why haven't we got them yet, then?"

"Once again, Arthas has shown himself to be competent enough as a strategist. We are cut-off from the south – that is where the Bronzebeards and the other clans reside, and the way to them is guarded by the dead. The dead keep it, and do not suffer the living to pass. Arathi Highlands is crawling with the Cult of the Damned fugitives, and we do not have sufficient manpower to hunt them down."

Apollo thought to himself for a while before giving Aegwynn a questioning glance. She saw his look and sighed, before giving him a nod, showing her support for his next revelation.

"Ah... well, you see, I may be able to help you with that small problem."

Everyone's eyes fell on him, and the High Commander stood up and began to slowly pace around the table.

"I have, back in Kalimdor, the allegiance of a strong, loyal, and brutal species of ... aerial combatants. They are happy to help me, as long as I am with them, and they will not bat an eyelash to a request from me for a contingent of their forces to fight for us." Apollo wasn't completely sure about what he was saying, but they definitely needed a morale boost right now, and it seemed to be working. The table was full of whispers discussing how helpful that could be and how reliable they could be.

Roderick, however, hesitatingly raised the question he was waiting for. "And ... who might these allies be, milord?"

Apollo smirked before looking at each individual in the eyes. "Tell me, what do you know about black dragons?"

Immediately, chaos broke out inside the tent, with Aegwynn pinching the bridge between her eyes at the sight. She turned to Apollo before whispering, "And you couldn't have said it in a different way?"

Apollo's sheepish smile just made her shake her head at him and turn to mediate the situation.

A long hour of explanations followed; Anya was looking murderously at him by the end of it and Apollo knew he was in for a bad conversation after dinner.

"Commanders, High Priestess, this is enough! We have a task we have each been assigned, and I suggest we get to it tomorrow without hesitation. It is decided; I will approach milady for her help tomorrow. This meeting is adjourned! Come, dinner has been set up."

After dinner, Apollo met a very irritated High Elf ranger sitting on her single bed inside his tent.

He was afraid she would be angry with him for practically being married to a Black Dragon, and he was right, she was angry – only, not for that reason.

"AND YOU COULDN'T BE BOTHERED TO TELL ME ABOUT THIS? What if she arrived here one day and I accidentally shot her thinking her an enemy?" He questioned her sanity, sometimes.

Apollo's headache rose as he spent part of the night dealing with a very unhappy High Elf schooling him in proper etiquette and manners concerning his considerable failures.

In the morning, a clearly exhausted Apollo motioned to the nearest mage aide to make him a portal to Light's Watch, and asked him to do it quickly before his overly protective bodyguard woke up. The queer looking fellow had an amused glint in his eyes before performing the necessary incantations and opened up the portal, which Apollo stepped towards just in time to hear a loud screech of displeasure from his elven bodyguard.

"Oh bollocks."

.oOo.

Apollo sent for High Priestess Nixondra the moment he reached Kalimdor. While waiting, he tried to fix the magnificent black eye he was now sporting as a result of his earlier disobedience. Light, but women are impossible creatures!

You deserved that, fool.

Apollo shuddered before holding his pendant. Shut up, you Old Goat. No one asked you anything.

After his healing at the hands of Aegwynn, they had found that they could choose to communicate with the Old God trapped inside the pendant, as luckily, even though only a part of it was trapped inside, it held the largest fragment of its sentience. Thankfully, they found out the night before that it was the least repugnant and arrogant aspect of the Old God.

Aegwynn reserved her judgement "for now," she said, as they had only just 'met' him, and as such could not carry out full tests. It seemed, however, that it could only converse while the pendant was in direct contact with the skin – and apparently it was bored and wanted conversation while expending massive energies to keep its jail dimension from imploding, even if it didn't like his jailor much.

Kind of figured that when you sent my power in an infinite dimensional loop sequence...

That is what you deserve for disturbing me after such a long slumber. Now that I am awake, you must keep me entertained.

Apollo had smirked before kissing Aegwynn and mentally challenging the fiend. Are you not yet entertained?

Aegwynn had been surprised at his boldness before cursing him and his playful nature.

Apollo shook his head clear and let go of the pendant as he saw Nixondra approach with an inquisitive look upon her face, which was doubled at seeing him heal the last impressions of a black eye.

Anya had allowed him to go ahead without her but had given him the warning that next time, the punch would be to a more sensitive place, and that she would make him regret ever thinking of leaving her behind for 'her safety'.

Apollo surprised Nixondra by greeting her in native draconic. "Hello, Nixondra. I need your help."

"Lord Apollo? What do you want?"

The darker Apollo would have bristled at her tone, but he knew it was the nature of black dragons to be arrogant and not very patient, apart from a few exceptions. Now that Nixondra knew that Apollo was her mistress' consort, she had no qualms addressing him normally, in terms of black dragons.

"I need to know if milady is home." If Nixondra was surprised by how he referred to his consort, she did not show it. Instead, she looked unnerved at the question and replied only after a demanding gaze from him.

"Yes, she is. However, I received news that she was heading for the birthing chambers this morning."

At first, Apollo did not comprehend what she was so nervous about – "So Onyxia went and had the next batch of eggs... oh. She had her next batch of eggs."

"Have you visited her lately, milord?"

An annoyed look flitted over his face for a moment, and Nixondra was sure she could feel jealousy emanating from him.

"No, no I haven't."

"Well... I suppose you will see her, then?"

Brought back from his musings, Apollo remembered the true purpose of the visit and sighed. "Yes, I have urgent matters to discuss with my queen."

Nixondra bowed and left him, upset as he was, and quickly retreated before he could take his growing anger out on her – that is, if he was indeed like the other black dragons.

Apollo knew he had no right to be incensed as he was at hearing his consort's actions. She had told him before, theirs would not be that kind of a relationship – but right now he was more concerned about the black dragon that would go around proclaiming that he was the real consort of Onyxia, thereby undermining his position of respect, and dare he think it, power.

Over the past few weeks with Aegwynn, the most accomplished mage to ever live, Apollo picked up a couple things. She had instilled within him the obsession with manipulation of one's inner energies, and she had helped him practice morphing his shape into that of another, for starters.

Eventually, he had discovered that the process was not only not dissimilar to the animagus transformation his father and his clique had been famous for, but also that he was limited in his manipulation to achieving one perfect shape, after which the rest would become blurry and impossible to recreate. Aegwynn herself could not understand why he was unable to transform into anything else, as she demonstrated afterwards by turning him into a cat, frog, and sheep successively. She laughed as he grumbled about arcane manipulation being unfair and left him to his own devices, perfecting the one shape he could become.

Now, several months after that training session, standing atop the tallest tower in Light's Watch, Apollo was ready to take shape and fly towards his loving Queen.

Several gasps of astonishment and disbelief were heard throughout the town as a majestic-looking, translucent dragon of golden hue flew over their heads, heading for the southern swamps. Nixondra herself looked puzzled before realization struck and she began smirking – whoever dared lay claim to Onyxia in his absence was about to be pulverized.

Lieutenant Brimgore, first of his name as far as he was concerned, was having a quiet and peaceful day flying across the swamp flats, munching on a delicious raptor haunch before alighting against the entrance to his mistress' lair. He was content, and a deep rumbling from his belly agreed with him. Just as he finished his haunch of meat, however, he turned his reptilian gaze up at the bright blue sky and got the biggest shock of his life.

An ethereal dragon of epic proportions was slowly descending towards him. Is this Nozdormu? No, it cannot be – he is off fighting against himself and the Infinite Dragonflight – and this dragon looks too lucent to be him. What is this creature?

With slight fright he drew up to full height and mentally sent for the wyrmkin guards below. If this was a threat to his mistress, it chose the wrong day to fight with them. Just as he bared his fangs, however, the golden dragon landed softly on the ground and swiftly changed into a human he recognized all too well.

He staggered back in shock, his wings scratching the obsidian rock around the entrance.

"Milord!" He was cut off before he could say more, however, and the expression on Apollo's face told him it would be a bad day to mess with him.

"Yes, Brimgore. I need to see milady." When he saw Brimgore stare at him without moving, Apollo lost his patience. "NOW!"

Brimgore did not understand how the puny looking human he had met not so long ago had become so commanding and powerful. He could smell the alpha male aroma spreading from him, and he immediately knew it would be a bad idea to refuse the immortal. He complied accordingly, and as fate would have it, the wyrmkin guards arrived at that exact moment, ready to escort their lord to their mistress.

Apollo himself did not understand very well what was happening. He had never thought he could become so disgusted by lesser beings, and for a second thought the Old God in his pendant was influencing him again. But as his luck would have it—

No, it is all coming from you this time, vermin. Do not think to bring me into your petty existence so frivolously.

That answered that line of thought.

As he reached the hatching/birthing chambers, he saw Onyxia had finished and was discussing with what appeared to be a smaller dragon in front of her. Apollo walked in and looked at the dragon with cold fury. It was a male.

The moment Onyxia noticed him and saw his expression, her eyes widened. The dragon she was talking to turned around, confused, until he saw the immortal in front of him, glaring at him with eyes blazing. Before he could say anything, Onyxia spoke up.

"Apollo! What are you doing here?"

Said immortal gritted his teeth before replying. "I was simply coming home to meet my loving Queen, Lady Onyxia. But now, I find myself thirsty." At her questioning look, Apollo walked forward until he was completely inside the cavern and changed into his dragon form, something that shocked both other occupants of the room.

Apollo saw a twinkle in Onyxia's eyes as she let her eyes devour his new form before continuing. "And, happily, I find myself in luck."

The smaller dragon in front of him was slightly scared. He ventured a question. "How so, Lord Consort?"

"I have plenty to assuage my thirst with right here." With that, Apollo pounced on the smaller dragon and began clawing its wings apart and tearing his jaws into its neck. The struggle was going poorly for the smaller dragon, as Apollo in dragon form was much larger than Onyxia herself, and it was a massacre being dragged on for Apollo's vengeful pleasure.

Fortunately for the dragon, this kick-started Onyxia into action. "What are you doing? Release my brother's envoy at once!"

Apollo turned to her and bared his teeth to her. "Oh, an envoy, is THAT what he is!"

Onyxia looked stunned for a second before looking searchingly into his eyes, and finding something that surprised her greatly. Her consort was somehow, incomprehensibly, jealous. "Yes, of course that's what he is; he was delivering an urgent message to me from Romathis! Why, what has happened?"

Apollo instantly stopped attacking the frightened dragon in front of him and released the poor, battered envoy immediately. He turned his baleful look instead to Onyxia, and growled at the envoy to get out, the latter gingerly obeying before collapsing outside the birthing chambers.

Onyxia was generally a very haughty and vain dragoness, but the look from her consort was starting to frighten even her. She had not seen a look filled with such malice and—was it betrayal?—from even her father when he became Deathwing.

Finally, Apollo stopped advancing towards her and instead turned away in disgust. "You would allow him into your birthing chambers, and not the guards?" His gravelly voice held equal parts disdain and fury.

Onyxia was still unsure why he was acting in such manner, but she was inexplicably attracted to the sheer presence and power he was displaying. Her draconic voice sounded shaky, almost subdued to his enhanced hearing; he questioned her vocally once more, not realizing the alluring effect his voice had on her. "Well?"

"I... I was done before he was allowed to enter. I ..." Onyxia was slowly regaining some of her spirit, lost in the shock of seeing her consort so vicious. She cleared her throat with a loud rumble before picking up again, "I do not understand your point here, or your aggressive display; I am Onyxia, broodmother and Queen of the Black Dragonflight! You believe that I would violate the sanctity of my own birthing den with the presence of another..." Onyxia trailed off right there, finally understanding Apollo's rage and the violence with which he set upon her brother's envoy. She paused for a moment before laughing so hard that her massive body fell to the floor, rumbling along with her.

This only served to further infuriate an already enervated Apollo, but he held his tongue in check, waiting for an explanation. Finally, Onyxia stopped laughing before getting up and giving a shake throughout her massive body.

"Come, my dear lord consort, see our children hatch."

Apollo was now thoroughly confused at what she was saying – he had come here with a purpose and had been incensed at learning what she had done – but now, apparently, he learned that the whelps were his?

Apollo was not one to be easily beguiled, and believing himself being roped into another trick by Onyxia, he angrily stamped up beside her. "What is the meaning of this, Onyxia? How dare you insinuate..." He abruptly shut up when she silenced him with a glare and pointed with her snout towards the new batch. He looked at her questioningly, whereupon he realized what she wanted. Still not fully comprehending what was happening, and unwilling to fall for any trap, he glared at her, but shifted into his normal humanoid form. He then began the process of accelerating the eggs' growth, just as he had done when he had first met her almost three years previously, and waited with baited breath after he had finished for the results.

They did not have to wait long.

When the first whelp emerged from the shell, Apollo was taken aback. He knew the children of two proper dragons were always dragons, but he had no idea beyond that. Onyxia looked upon her children as any mother would look upon their firstborn, eyes full of hope and joy, something that unsettled Apollo the more he saw it. The expression itself looked misplaced on the majestic black dragoness, whose very nature was dangerous. Apollo knew right away that they were his children, though he knew not how – and not just by the semi-humanoid shape they possessed.

No, all of the tiny eyes were glowing a beautiful golden colour.

After spending a minute watching his first ever descendants, Apollo turned to Onyxia.

"How?" He croaked out.

"The last time you visited, I decided it was time you made good on your first promise. Thus, I took a sample of your blood, and willed myself to bear your children, after taking appropriate measures. I did not anticipate that you would have a dragonkin form, however. Otherwise... we could have started earlier."

Apollo had the decency to blush while also feeling elated. He was being propositioned by his Queen.

Then, things started to become ugly.

"Now, you will explain yourself. How dare you enter my birthing chambers without even asking for permission from me and have the audacity to attack my guest in such brutal manner?"

If it had been Apollo two years ago, he would have retreated into a shell, trying to escape the coming storm. However, this was a new Apollo, more familiar with his Queen, and definitely less cowardly.

Apollo snarled back at her, but it was not as impressive as when he was in dragonkin form. He noticed it, and after careful manoeuvring around his children he turned into his fearsome shape.

"I have the audacity to do so because you have claimed me as your consort! Not another! What was I supposed to think when I heard from Nixondra this morning..."

"You would question my intelligence, Apollo? You are a fool! Beg for my forgiveness, and I may yet choose to forget such an intolerable act! I show you too much leniency already, and that is due to your position!"

This time, Apollo snarled really loudly before roaring in draconic. "You would have me, your own consort, beg for your mercy? You are lucky I care for you too much to rip you into shreds, my darling little queen!" He hissed out the ending in a fuming manner before drawing back on his two feet and spread his gigantic wings, giving out a thundering roar, shaking the whole lair.

Onyxia was indeed intimidated by him, but all that turned to nought and she steeled her nerve when she saw how frightened their own children were.

She hissed back in anger at him. "Look at them! You are scaring our offspring! Do you really wish to continue this now?" She gave him a look that promised eternal suffering for his impudence for good measure.

Apollo was getting extremely irritated at how easily she was turning everything on him, but she had a point. Turning towards his frightened children, Apollo inhaled slowly before breathing out a deep enchantment upon his children, which Onyxia watched in fascination as it caused every single one of them to become drowsy before falling asleep with their tiny bodies dropping with a 'flop' on the floor.

Apollo turned to her and grunted in frustration before setting his massive body down in a protective manner around his slumbering children. He gave her one last irate look before turning his head away and letting it rest against an outcropping rock. His nostrils were fuming occasionally, and the sight caused Onyxia to sigh.

She had finally gotten what she had dreamed of ever since she was a little whelp; a caring mate who was both extremely powerful and protective of her and their children.

She decided that even though as Queen of the Black Dragonflight she had a reputation to maintain, she needed to control her consort more and thus be with him now. Waiting a few more minutes, she slowly ground up to Apollo and curled herself up between him and the sleeping whelps. He gave a non-committal grunt as she nudged his head with hers before letting out the dragonkin equivalent of a sigh.

He muttered the next few words in a low, deeply mesmerizing voice. "I apologize, my Queen. I shall not forget myself or my place again." Onyxia exhaled softly at that. He was recognizing her authority above his, and she found it gratifying to have such a powerful specimen at her beck and call (to a certain extent). Besides, she was serious when she had propositioned him. His voice was extremely enthralling to her, and she could feel herself becoming slightly envious as she envisioned Nixondra seeing and hearing him in the morning before her.

After a while had passed, and both parents lay in a comforting grip surrounding their half-blood children, Onyxia voiced herself once more.

"Why are you here now, Apollo? I know knowledge of my birthing could not have reached you in the Eastern Kingdoms so swiftly."

Apollo remembered the real reason for his visit and turned his head, stretching out his right wing just enough to cover Onyxia in a protective embrace before grunting his displeasure with the situation.

"I ... need your help. Our situation back in the Eastern Kingdoms is not a good one. We may have the Light, we may have the valorous soldiers, we may have unequivocal faith and strength in our belief; it will not be enough to face the might of Arthas' near-unending and self-replenishing armies."

Onyxia mused for a moment before gesturing him on. "We have the ground troops. We have the cavalry. Fel, we even have the supplies necessary to keep us provisioned for a whole year of warfare. What we do not possess is support; aerial backup."

Onyxia understood. "And you would beg for my help regarding the aerial support."

Apollo slowly nodded in return. He knew he was asking a lot out of his Queen. She was the authority behind everything in the black dragonflight as far as he was concerned, Nefarian's delusions be damned.

Onyxia pondered for a while on the issue. Though this was her consort asking for her help, she really had no obligations to do so. There was a big incentive to doing it, however; the Black Dragonflight would be seen as fierce and stalwart allies while maintaining their dangerous appearance by most Azerothian races. Also, she would get to gloat about doing the job of the Red Dragonflight for them, at the next Wyrmrest Temple meet, probably to Queen Alexstrasza's discomfiture. The downside was that there was the very real chance that many of her offspring would be severely injured, and Titans-forbid, would even die in the conflict, thereby severely weakening the Black Dragonflight.

Apollo would probably be overjoyed, though, and thus more easy to manipulate.

Onyxia smirked. She could even become Queen of the Dragons herself, usurping Alexstrasza's hard-earned position.

"Very well, I will see what we can spare."

Apollo's sigh of relief made her wonder if she couldn't have forced him to do things in exchange for her aid.

.oOo.

When the commanders gathered around the huge portal that was opening in the sky above the High Command tent, they were uncertain as to what to expect. After all, it was unheard of that dragons, especially black dragons, would ever help humans achieve something.

Wagers had been placed around the total numbers that Apollo would be able to bring back with him. They ranged from no support to over a score of drakes and wyrmkin, but the sight of the portal opening in mid-air caused many to rethink their original stances.

It was well known that wyrmkin guards did not fly, Aegwynn said so.

Finally, a figure emerged from the portal. Once it was through, the people gathered around were surprised to find it was a fully mature dragon, even though most were disheartened that only one came through.

It turned to see the audience and greeted them in an exacerbated tone.

"Humans. I am Dreadbane, Lieutenant of the Black Dragonflight. I came first to see if the preparations for our arrival were complete."

This got the commanders talking again. 'Our arrival', it said. How many would be coming through?

"Obviously, you have not done so. Please prepare a large enough area to receive a small strike force of full-fledged dragons, not wyrmkin or other such inadequate entities."

Dispatches were sent around the camp to key points with the orders while Dreadbane watched on with increasing boredom.

Anya gathered the courage to ask the question. "How many would be a small strike force, sir?"

Dreadbane turned to face her with his eyes narrowed, before judging her worthy to know. "My mistress and Queen Lady Onyxia and her Lord Consort are bringing around three score of us to help fight against the rotten vermin you face."

That shocked everyone present. With a force such as that, Arthas' numerical advantage would be largely negated.

"However..."

There always is a catch.

"We cannot stay too long, for we face our own adversaries in our home, and can only stay for one proper assault against the Death Knight."

Instantly, a clamour rose up between the commanders. This was a double-edged blade to them. They could deal a meaningful blow to the slow Scourge siege troops, but the lighter force which moved with Arthas would face the humans without their black dragon allies.

All conversation was cut short as the main force suddenly exited the portal. At the very end came one of the biggest dragons anyone had ever seen; with gigantic horns protruding from her head and Apollo riding on her back came the Broodmother Onyxia. She circled the camp once before setting down near the High Command tent, letting Apollo jump down from her back before she assumed a humanoid shape.

The next few words seemed to take a lot out of her.

"Greetings, humans. I have come at the behest of my Consort regarding your undead undesirables. I have decided to pledge my ... support ... for your side for one major offensive, after which we must return."

Apollo smirked at everyone's dumbfounded faces before ushering everyone inside the tent. Onyxia took her place at the head of the table, as was her right, though that did not sit too well with some present in the room.

Payton decided it was time to revise their strategies if necessary and immediately spoke up, much to Apollo's gratefulness.

"Lady Onyxia, we thank you immensely for your presence and participation in this war." He bowed to her before continuing. "We have, so far, established that Arthas has left the majority of his siege troops to take the slow path while he and an advance assault group head for the Sunwell to take stock of the situation. This has been a rather foolish decision on his part, though no one could have anticipated your timely aid in the matter."

Payton gestured for General Levitt to continue. "Yes, here is what we intend to do. Through our elven allies in the north, we have managed to secure portals which would lead us directly to Silvermoon City today, and have prepared all our heavy troops and guards for that purpose. Our light cavalry and marksmen are already on their way to the Amani pass chokepoint to destroy the Scourge demolishers."

Roderick picked up here. "What we would need is for your forces to accompany them there and destroy any aerial support Arthas may have set up. We understand black dragons are practically immune to banshee magic, and thus they would be best countered by you. After all the troops there are annihilated, our shock troopers will endeavour to catch up with the main fighting force twenty leagues south of Silvermoon City, cutting up any enemy stragglers along the way. At that point of time, you may consider the major offensive complete."

Onyxia mused for a moment before agreeing. "It is a very simple plan, but fortunately I have oft found that simplicity makes things easier for lesser ... for everyone to follow. I suppose that you hope to use our dragon flames to set everything in the Amani pass alight?"

Everyone around the table nodded before Apollo gave the signal to go ahead. Aegwynn gestured to him that she would be helping maintain the portals for the ground troops and headed outside to let the Highlord of the Light have a last minute talk with his Queen.

Onyxia stood up after everyone had left before approaching Apollo and resting a hand on his right shoulder. As he turned, an inquisitive look on his face, she elaborated.

"I will be staying to help the elves fight, even though our forces will return home to protect the newborn. I will not be need back home to guard them, and I believe you would appreciate my help, my dear consort."

Apollo was amazed by her revelation. He grabbed Onyxia and pulled her in a tight hug, deeply grateful for her help, before remembering his place and staggering back in slight nervousness.

Onyxia displayed momentary annoyance before dismissing him. Just as he was about to leave, however, she quipped a surprise with a malicious chuckle at the end.

"I expect you to fight by my side in dragonkin form, Lord Consort. Mayhap it will be that I will be the one on your back, instead?"

.oOo.

The Lady Sylvanas Windrunner was stressed. She had just received reports that the Farstriders near the Amani pass were under heavy attack while placing their traps – no doubt from a vanguard designed to protect the heavier assault units.

She knew Apollo was sending help; Jaina had told her so, but she was slightly sceptical about whether she would be receiving the help on time.

Just then, a ranger came in out of breath. "Milady! We have received word from the humans – they say they will be there in time to intercept the Scourge troops at the designated chokepoint."

That was good news. She knew she could count on her dear friend when necessary.

"There is more. We have begun opening the portals for Lord Apollo's troops, and ..."

Why the stutter, now? "Yes?"

"Milady, the troops that have come through seem to be the main force of the assault."

This was disastrous news. Apollo had focused on bringing her all of the help she needed at Silvermoon, and had probably not left enough to obliterate the undead forces at Amani pass. Her Farstriders there would be killed.

"Also, Milady, Lord Apollo has reached."

Sylvanas was trying to keep her rage in check. Her close friends would suffer because of Apollo's idiocy, and she had to keep calm so as to not destroy the tentative peace that held the morale here. She was furious.

Just as she reached the portal area, she saw Apollo and walked up to him. She began hissing at him in anger.

"Apollo! How could you be so absolutely ignorant as to send only a light attack against the heavy scourge troops! My Farstriders will die! You idiotic, moron—"

She was interrupted by a veritable roar from a woman she had not noticed was accompanying him.

"Silence! You will not address my Consort by such demeaning terms, Elf. He has done more than you could possibly imagine!"

Apollo decided he liked Onyxia defending him. He spoke up, concluding there was no need for inner conflict now. "I would thank you not to insult my intelligence, Sylvanas. I sent the greatest part of my assault force to destroy Amani pass, don't worry."

That shut Sylvanas up right away. She did not understand who the woman who claimed Apollo was her consort was, but she decided to ignore it for the time being. Then, she hesitated. "But how? You cannot possibly be in command of such numbers... unless..."

"No, it isn't what you are thinking of, my dear. It's much simpler. During my time on Kalimdor, I was fortunate enough to make the acquaintance of a strong race of fighters, headed by the Lady to my right, Queen Onyxia."

Sylvanas couldn't stop a strangled squawk from escaping through her vocal chords. Apollo had somehow managed to convince the Black Dragonflight to fight for him.

Apollo chuckled as he understood her expressions. "Yes, I see you're familiar with who and what she is."

After a while of silence to get herself under control, Sylvanas spoke up once more. "Well; this is quite unexpected. How many black dragons can we expect, so that I may tell the Farstriders to watch for?"

Onyxia smiled before answering. It was not a friendly smile. "Around sixty black dragons, Sylvanas. Don't worry; the vermin will not be able to get through into this beautiful land."

Sylvanas could have cried from relief. Everything would be alright.

"We do have some concerns, however. Arthas seems to be heading this way, going from town to town to pick up more and more elven undead. Even though he may not have started with a big strike force, it will be massive by the time it reaches us."

Sylvanas' head sank once more. "We know. We have heard, and the best we can do is set up traps and the like, avoiding direct confrontation with Arthas if we can help it, trying to destroy the undead bodies so there is nothing for him to resurrect. Purged by fire, indeed!"

Apollo sighed before motioning at both of them that it was time to meet up with the commanders and decide how best to set up their defences.

All three soon arrived at a tent filled with rangers and human commanders. It was here that Apollo made a startling discovery.

"Tirion! My good friend Tirion!"

"Apollo, it is good to see you still alive."

The short banter lasted until everyone was gathered in the room, whereupon Tirion Fordring introduced another help to Apollo.

"Apollo, I'd like you to meet someone special. He wields the Ashbringer."

Apollo's eyes turned cold at the new figure in the room.

"Alexandros Mograine. How ... nice ... to finally meet you."

"Likewise, Lord Commander. Lord Fordring speaks highly of you; I must say, your actions are indeed commendable."

Apollo decided to humour the man for now. "Yes, quite. Thank you for your support, Mograine."

Apollo stopped here, but decided it was better to get things out of the way before they could harm progress later on. "You know, this is such a happy occasion. I knew of a Mograine once; he was my mentor, Lord Basilan Mograine. Perhaps you've heard of him?"

Alexandros looked at Apollo incredulously. "Basilan, my brother? He is still alive? I was told by the Order nigh three decades back that he had died, his body irrecoverable."

It was Apollo's turn to feel disbelief. "You mean you have never investigated the claims?"

"Yes, of course I have. I sent my two sons on every scouting opportunity they had while training with the Order south in Stormwind, while I myself scoured the land looking for him. I never did find him. Tell me, Lord Commander, do you have news of him?"

Apollo turned and glared at Fordring and many of the others gathered around. Clearly, none had bothered to inform the man that his brother had passed away three years back.

He cleared his throat before going into a detailed explanation of how he came to know Basilan and ended with the information of his slowly growing town on Kalimdor. Mograine was given a moment to recover and recollect, before he spoke up again.

"I have two sons; the younger of the two, Darion, has decided he does not like being stuck in a single place and would prefer exploration. Renault, the other, has recently joined up with the new conservative sect of the Church, the Scarlet Crusade. Would you allow Darion to train with you, in the new world, so that he does not feel left behind? After we resolve this conflict, of course."

Apollo smiled. "It warms my heart to know that we have such stalwart supporters and believers in our cause, Alexandros. Of course, I'd be glad to squire your son."

The High Command tent that Sylvanas had set up was now full, everyone having taken their seat and looking expectantly at Apollo. He nodded an acknowledgement before taking his place at the side of Onyxia, with Sylvanas sitting at the high chair at the head of the table.

She started off the discussion. "Ladies and gentlemen, we have calculated that we simply cannot afford to let Arthas gain in strength and numbers as he approaches us. Even though he is moving quite quickly for someone on foot, he insists on stopping at nearly every town along the way. The land is becoming plagued everywhere he treads; soon, the whole area shall be defiled by his unholy nature."

One of her ranger commanders continued. "We have established that traps set up will become ineffective if the numbers grow beyond ten thousand soldiers. Yes, that is a huge number considering the light attack force he started with, which is why we have set up evacuations for every single town in Arthas' predicted path, ever since we learned what he was doing with the fourth one onwards."

A second ranger picked up. "We have begun skirmishes against his troops with what small forces we have, but we cannot deal with all of them at the same time." She paused as she brought out a map with key points already identified and marked. "If we keep the heavy combat troops at these positions in defensive manoeuvres and send the rest to reinforce Silvermoon City's walls, we could greatly absorb a lot of the predictable assault damage."

Sylvanas thanked her before getting to the gist of the talk. "Simply put, if we, that is to say my rangers and I, along with your help, keep bringing the fight to Arthas at the deserted towns along the way, he will have nowhere to replenish his forces or wait to rest. I promise you now, I will give him hell before he can even think of stepping near Eversong Woods."

The meeting now over, the commanders and general present all agreed to their tasks and the majority, especially the paladins and the infantrymen, left to bolster the city defences. Sylvanas now found herself with a few remaining powerhouses. Firstly, the High Priestesses Loraine and Alana, to deal with the medical aspect of this war; secondly, her ranger commanders serving under her, sworn to use their nature affinities and marksmanship to deal with any threat to the Kingdom; and lastly, the Highlord of the Light himself, Apollo 'Lightwielder', as he was no called, and his even more impressive consort, the Black Dragon Queen Onyxia, daughter of the Earthwarder.

Sylvanas turned to the remaining members of the tent before gesturing for them to gear up. It was time; Arthas was close to one of the first few towns they had managed to evacuate in time.

Once everyone was ready, she conjured the portal. "Good luck, soldiers, and may the Sunwell grant us victory."

"For the Light!"

She stepped through the portal first, amidst cheers of encouragement and zealous heroism.

.oOo.

The fight was progressing well. Apollo's troops, used to the guerrilla warfare fighting techniques, had been performing marvellously against the ravenous undead scourge; especially with support from the Rangers to snipe the enemy reaching too close to a seemingly abandoned infantryman.

Onyxia was greatly enjoying herself, especially since her consort was flying next to her, both of them unleashing devastating torrents of pure dragon flame, completely melting anything it touched.

That is, of course, until Arthas took notice of them and set up a moving gigantic anti-magic dome around his closest troops.

From then one, both were forced to assume their humanoid forms, Apollo fighting with the Holy Light in one hand and his trusty sword, Mograine's Legacy, in the other. The two made for a formidable fighting duet.

Every now and again one them would see a rotten ghoul get close to the other from the back before a blazing arrow would take them out, and they would stop to give the ranger a respectful nod before continuing.

What Apollo could never have predicted, however, was that he would see half of his own personal guard butchered by a moment's inattention and Arthas' frozen runeblade.

"NO! Belarion, Anya!"

Arthas looked up after having clean cut through the pair before giving him a challenging smirk. Apollo knew that he would not be able to resurrect them any longer. Having been personally slain by Arthas' runeblade, their souls were trapped inside Frostmourne forever.

Arthas, it seemed, had recognized him. "Frostmourne hungers, brother. And I feed it. It took care of me and supported me unlike you and your treachery!"

With that, Arthas turned away tauntingly, seemingly gliding away from him, at which point Apollo could not take it anymore and lashed out.

Bright and burning, white hot light began to emerge from him as his figure shimmered once, twice, and thrice before releasing a massive burst of Light energy outwards in an ever expanding dome shape.

Apollo had released his true form and his emotional pain had caused him to override the protection he himself had placed on his powers so as to not hurt those around him. As turned to look around him, all he could see was ash wherever the Light had encountered the Unholy, leaving shadowy imprints of the undead against the nearby walls. As the consequences of his actions came crushing down upon him, he turned to look for any of his own troops he may have hit with the Holy Nova, but thankfully saw that they instead seemed reinvigorated and revitalized by his outburst.

Assuring himself that he had not destroyed all of their chances at winning the war, Apollo took two steps towards his astounded Consort before promptly fainting and falling on the ground with a hard 'thud'.

Well, this is it. The pairing that won was, of course, Harry(Apollo)/Sylvanas. I can't say it was much of a surprise, but there you have it.

I would like to mention the fact that though it may seem like it, this story will not feature proper polygamous (or polyandrous) relationships.

Anyways, I love receiving reviews, so if you would like me to update the story faster, please, go ahead and review it.

As usual, I welcome any comments or criticisms with open arms. Don't be shy.

Till next time.