Tap.
Athene awoke suddenly, her mind fogged with slumber as her vision adjusted to the now darkened room. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes and peered out into the main living quarters. Something had roused her from rest, but what? She stood, brushing the wrinkles from her robes and cautiously left the small nook.
It was late – very late in fact – and the main hall which was usually full of boisterous laughter was eerily silent. Where is everyone? She wondered after quickly surveying the Hold. There was no sign of anyone in her party and even if something terrible had happened to her unit, where was Aris? She doubted very much that anyone was capable of harming the skilled rogue.
Athene paused to grab a pack of matches from atop a weathered keg. Striking the match against the cool stones of the fortress, she lit a stout white candle that hung from the wall in burnished brass candelabrum. There was something in the way the shadows shifted in the room that made her uneasy, it was almost as if they were alive...
Tap.
Her head jerked to the right, desperately searching the darkness for the source of the sound. The silence in the room became deafening as the racing of her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
"Hello?" She whispered, her hands reaching into darkness, frantically grasping at something she couldn't find. Her legs trembling in fear as she inched forward towards the sound, her silk wrapped feet shuffling so softly that the only noise emitted from her were ragged, terrified gasps of air. Just as Athene was about to dismiss the noise as her overactive imagination, the air shifted behind her and she stiffened as she felt the touch of a cool blade against her throat.
"Oh, Athene, we need to stop meeting like this," Chuckled a silky voice while a hand smoothed over her rumpled robe.
Athene gasped as memories from the day at Crystal lake flooded her with simultaneous terror and desire. It was him! The man for whom her esteemed reputation as a healer could be accredited. The man who had haunted her dreams for the past seven years with his unearthly beauty and aura of danger. There wasn't a week that passed where Athene didn't dream of their haphazard embrace that sweltering July morning and of the savage kiss that ended far too quickly for her liking...
But Athene had long given up on romanticizing this moment – the moment where she would meet this man again – she had spent the last year gaining more knowledge in the deadly art of shadow magic and she was no shrinking violet or maiden in distress. She was a battle priestess and by the blessed light she would act like one.
"If you've come to teach me the ways of men, I'm afraid you're too late," The trapped priestess remarked, her voice thick with sarcasm. If the rogue wanted to play, she'd be more than willing. Her hand wandered down to trinket that hung loosely from her belt. If she could reach it, she could tap a spell that would send the elf screaming in fear for at least five seconds – long enough for her to summon a powerful incantation that would sear his body with holy fire.
The hand just below her breasts tightened as the strong body behind her shook with laughter. "Oh, Athene, you silly girl! There are always new tricks to be taught," His hand crept down her stomach in agonizingly slow, teasing strokes. "New pleasures to be discovered." He whispered into her ear, his warm breath causing gooseflesh on her neck.
Athene groaned inwardly – while she couldn't deny that she had undoubtedly waited for this moment for years – she certainly wasn't going to take the rogue's advances without dishing out a few of her own. Her fingers grasped the trinket at her waist and she ran her thumb over the small, crystalline skull. The rogue behind her suddenly froze, his body tensing as he felt the echoes of magic as Athene began to silently cast her fear spell.
"You want to spar, elf? Alright, I'll give you a fight!" The priestess spat as the trinket between her fingers came alive; illuminating the darkened room, bathing it in bright blue light and sending the rogue running in fear. Her hands began to glow with soft, golden power as she cast a quick spell that would shield her body from harm. The elf was completely unveiled now and Athene saw that it was indeed the same man she met years ago. His long, beautiful pale blonde hair was now tied into a messy topknot, and even though his features were temporarily disfigured due to Athene's spell, she could still discern the strong jawline, aristocratic nose and sculpted cheekbones. His lean body was still built for stealth and speed, cloaked in black leathers. Her body flushed in recognition but she was quick to stifle her desire as the elf suddenly vanished.
Athene's face darkened, "You rogues are cowards, you know that? Always hiding from a fair fight, always skulking in the shadows! What's wrong, elf? Afraid of a human priest?" She mocked, her hands still cupping pale, holy fire. When her taunts failed to goad the rogue out of his hiding place, she lowered her hands slightly and snorted in disgust.
"Well, then! I guess I'll just be off to bed seeing as how someone is too chi-"
Sap.
Athene felt the tension drain from her limbs as her body slumped forward. You just had to irritate him, didn't you? She thought as she felt a cool hand lift her chin. She was suddenly face to face with the elf, his eyes alight with mischief as he flashed her a wolfish grin.
"I seem to have you at several disadvantages at the moment, love" He said, brushing the hair out of her eyes so she could see his amused expression. "Aside from having you very much at my disposal, I know your name. Would you like to know mine?" He laughed when he realized she couldn't answer him. "Well, I'll have to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you are curious. I'm Zariah Dawnbreaker, and you – Sweet Athene – are in a heap of trouble."
It was hot.
Not like the gentle summers of his homeland, Teldrassil or even the humid, scorching days alongside the Auberdine shoreline, no, this was a dry heat. A heat so fierce it could rival the burning sands of Tenaris in mid July. But it wasn't just the oppressive heat that worried Aris, oh no, the heat should be the least of his worries right now.
He'd been ambushed.
Aris had been scoping out the fields when he'd heard a feminine giggle behind him. At his vantage point, perched atop the ridge at the mouth of the Silverwing Tunnel, he'd been shocked to hear anything at all. Upon turning, he saw the most beautiful creature he'd ever laid eyes upon. The woman was as pale as the surface of the moon, her almond shaped eyes teasing him as her tongue flicked out of her full, lush mouth and traced her bottom lip. She beckoned him closer, on all fours, as she leaned towards him on the grassy knoll. Her bosom was heaving as sounds of intimate pleasure slid seductively from her lips. Aris reached for her like a dying man would a life preserver, and then she giggled again and his world had gone black.
And now he was here. Except, he didn't know where here was. His head had been covered in a burlap sack, and the only things he could hear occasionally were the sound of hushed voices and soft footfalls. His arms and legs were bound in what felt like frostweave cuffs – so cold they burned into the Night Elf's skin. He was definitely strapped to a chair, as he was sitting in an upright position. Aris strained as his bonds when he heard a door open and close and the sound of...hooves?
He felt a soft pair of hands caress his chest and then slide around his neck. He grunted as the hands tangled in his hair, pulling gently and then he heard a familiar giggle.
"Hello, handsome," A beautifully feminine voice purred in his ear and he jerked his head back instinctively.
"Oh, dear. Silly me. You must be so uncomfortable in this heat with this ugly old sack on your head." The voice teased. Aris then felt the hands slide from his hair and slip the bag over his head. He was stunned to see that the voice didn't belong to a woman at all, but to a demon.
The succubus grinned at the Night Elf's admonished expression. "What? Expecting something more..." She purred into his neck, "Human?"
Aris remained unmoved. The situation hadn't changed much; he had believed that his captors were members of the Horde but if they were demonic...so be it. "Why am I here, witch?" He bit out, glaring at the succubus with restrained fury.
The succubus shrugged her dainty shoulders and poked his nose with the tip of her tail. "Why are any of us here? Some say we were created by a great fire thousands of years ago..." She rolled her heavily made-up eyes skyward and then snuggled into Aris' lap. "...But what some say is of little interest to us demons. We're more motivated by pain," she paused, gauging the Night Elf's reaction, "And pleasure." She gyrated her hips suggestively.
"Enough of this!" Aris boomed, startling the demon out of his lap. He watched as she stumbled backwards into the darkened room, obviously shocked by his outburst. "Why am I here? What is it that you want from me? If it's information you're after, I'm afraid you'll be-" The Night Elf's eyes widened as the succubus returned to him, her clawed fingers clutching his chin, tilting his head so he could meet her glowing eyes.
"Honey, I've been in thousands of these sessions and trust me, if Hadis wants you to talk, you will." She whispered, lowering her eyes. Aris suddenly understood: The succubus was in the same position he was. She was being held here against her will.
"Who in the holy fel is Hadis? Demon, if you release me I promise to help you," The rogue swore, his golden eyes never leaving the succubus' face. She opened her mouth to respond but was interrupted when a door audibly opened and closed. Her face crumpled and she slid to the floor in front of the bound night elf, hiding her face in his lap.
A tall blood elf stood at the door. Shadows from the fireplace played across the planes of his chiseled face. He was pale and lithely built, slender, but from the way he moved Aris could tell that there was muscle under the flowing, violet robes. His hair was so black that it appeared to be outlined in deep shades of purples, his eyes glowed brightly in the darkness with fel magic, his lips full and wistful. His pensive gaze fell upon the cowering demon.
"Lythia, what are you doing with our guest?" The striking man asked, entering the room with a languid, feline grace. He paused as he reached the enormous roll top desk and leaned against it, crossing his arms while staring intently at the dejected demon.
By Elune's blood...He's a warlock! Aris shivered as the blood elf's magic crept into the room, encouraged by his silent fury.
"I thought I could have some fun…what harm is a little fun?" She sulked, pouting her lips and bowing her head submissively. The man sighed heavily and gestured for the demon to approach him. For a moment, the succubus appeared terrified. Her almond eyes wide with fear and her lush mouth agape but she recovered quickly and hissed sharply, clinging to Aris' legs as if his body alone could shield her from the warlock's anger.
What the fel could a mere man do to cause such a reaction in a demon? Aris wondered as Lythia rubbed her chin against his thighs, careful to avoid the steady gaze of her master.
"Oh, come now, Lythia. You wouldn't want to make a scene in front of our guest, would you?" The warlock chided, his words dripping with derision.
The succubus pouted as she reluctantly slunk away from the bound Night Elf, heeding her master's warning. She approached the warlock cautiously, her hands wringing her tail anxiously as she knelt before him. He smiled down at the submissive demon while stroking her hair absentmindedly. Lythia purred appreciatively and curled around the warlock's legs, her hands reaching for the silken drawstrings at his waist.
"I know how to make it alllll better…" She drawled, her luscious lips curving into a wicked grin while her nimble fingers began stroking a long, sensuous line down his inner thigh.
As quick as a striking snake, his pale fingers locked around her hand, and judging by Lythia's pained expression, his grip was anything but gentle.
"You know this room isn't for pleasure, Lythia." He warned, his fel green eyes flaring with cold precision as his eyesight remained steady on Aris' face. The succubus' eyes lowered immediately and she nodded her head. "Yes, master." Her voice barely a whisper in the quiet room. The warlock made a dismissive gesture with his hand and Lythia rose from the floor and quickly walked towards the door.
"Is there anything else you'll be needing, master?" She asked, her eyes still lowered in submission. The warlock clicked his tongue and strode from the desk so that he towered over the subdued night elf.
"Bring me Persif'oni."
"What are you talking about? I'm not an activist!" Athene said in blatant bewilderment. How could this be? She wondered. If what Zariah said was true then she was indeed in a heap of trouble. She sat on the ground, her previous hostile demeanour washed away in a flood adrenaline and fear.
With their spat since forgotten, Zariah knelt beside the puzzled priestess and placed his hand on shoulder. "I'm not here to hand you over, Athene. I'm here to help you – and whether or not you believe me, they're coming. Right now." He said, his eyes keenly watching the doors to the hold, scanning for signs of movement.
"But…I don't understand! That story was never meant for public viewing! It's a fable, for light's sake! It wasn't meant to build bridges between the horde and the alliance! It was meant to give…" Athene shook her head. "Why should I believe any of this? Why should I believe the words of a blood elf who randomly shows up – uninvited - and gropes me! For all I know, you're working with these…these…radicals! Maybe you want to bring me to them!" She accused, rising from the ground, her fists clenched against her sides.
Zariah stared at her solemnly. "Athene, they are coming for you. Why do you think the alliance has made such unprecedented advances in the Gulch? Why have your skills as a healer been deemed unnecessary in this battleground yet…" He made a broad, sweeping gesture with his arms. "Here you remain." He approached the confused priestess and placed a hand gently under her chin, forcing her to meet his steady gaze. "You being stationed here, your unit's sweeping victories, your guard's disappearance…" Athene's head jerked away from Zariah's hand as he mentioned Aris. "It was all planned, Athene. It was all planned to isolate you and then capture you."
Athene felt hot, angry tears slide down her cheeks as she crossed her arms. "What will they do with Aris? With the members of my party? What will become of us?" She whispered, her heart feeling as though it were breaking apart in her chest.
"Hadis is not known for his compassion, Athene. If your guard was captured by his people – as I suspect he was – and brought before Hadis, then I fear your rogue has already met his demise. Surely the same fate awaits your party. We must leave if you wish to live." Zariah's thumb gently traced Athene's cheeks as he wiped away a tear from the flushed priestess' face. "This is not your fault."
Athene could have handled anything at the moment; pain, anger, betrayal…but the elf's act of kindness was almost too much for her to bear. She collapsed against his chest and sobbed. All she had wanted was to go home but how could she go home when she was considered a revolutionary? It didn't matter that the entire situation hinged upon unintentional circumstances; everyone she had ever known would be hunted to the end of their days should she decide to return to Northshire Valley and reveal their whereabouts.
But why is he helping me? Athene wondered as she lifted her head from Zariah's chest. She sneaked a glance at his face and found his expression calm, attentive, even a bit intuitive. He wasn't leering or trying to cop a feel, his concern for her was genuine and puzzling.
"Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?" She asked quietly, pulling away from him and regaining her composure. This is not how battle priestesses behave, she thought priggishly as she smoothed her robes and ran slender fingers through her honey blonde locks.
Zariah shrugged his broad shoulders and smiled sadly. "When you wrote the War Song, did you believe those words or was it all just a fairy tale meant for younglings and naive farm girls?" Humor danced in his glowing green eyes.
"Of course I believed in them but that isn't the-" Athene's exasperated rant was cut short as Zariah abruptly closed the distance between them and held her, once again, is his strong arms. He gazed down at her, that haunting smile still on his beautiful face.
"I have been many things in my long life, Athene, but not once have I had the chance to influence the entire well-being of Azeroth. If you truly meant those words- even without recognizing the reach and weight of them - then I wish nothing more than to be at your service." He finished, his gaze steady upon the priestess' face.
"But…how could someone like you ever be of any service to someone like me?" Athene asked as she pulled away from the rogue, confusion clouding her eyes. How could she trust someone like Zariah? He was an admitted criminal and had no allegiance to anything or anyone. Except me… she thought and shivered inwardly.
Zariah grinned devilishly and winked down at Athene. "Oh, I could be of service in so many ways, priestess, but we haven't the time. We need to leave immediately"
Athene was about to make a snide retort when she heard a series of loud booms. Her body froze in terror as she backed away from the tunnel that lead to the bloodied fields of Warsong Gulch. "What is that?" She whispered, her voice trembling with fear. Zariah's eyes were glued to the tunnel as well, his calloused hands gripped the poisoned daggers at his side, his lips parted slightly and his expression grim.
"Kodo battering rams. We're too late. They're here."