Fayne groaned as she jumped the small distance to the ground. It had begun pouring, and Varian insisted on stopping to ride it out. She forcibly yanked Tanis' reins, hoping the trees would provide a bit of protection for her from the rain. As Fayne finished tying her up, Varian was approaching with his gryphon. She grabbed its reins, and before Varian could protest, she gave him a hard look and simply said, "I'll do it." She walked back to Tanis, and tied the gryphon up next to her. She stood silently and watched the huge proto-drake allow the smaller creature to sit under one of her large wings.

"Are you going to stand there all day in the rain, or are you going to help me?" Fayne turned and sighed angrily.

"It wasn't my idea to sit here all day while it rained. So how about you pitch the tent up by yourself, while I go hunting before I rip your hair out?" She wasn't about to sit through another one of Varian's lectures, so she walked away. Fayne could practically feel the rage emitting in waves off of the Alliance leader, but she was too ticked off at him to care.

"Grow up," she heard him say angrily. "Piss off," she replied, continuing her walk.

Fayne nearly drew her weapon when she heard Varian's loud footsteps coming after her. "I'm coming with you," he said firmly. She laughed, turning around to face him. "No, you aren't." He tried protesting, but after glaring at him for a few moments, Fayne turned around and resumed walking.

"Don't do anything stupid," Varian said sharply. She snorted, but refrained from commenting.


As Fayne approached a river, she walked along the bank looking for anything she could use to get through it dry. She could not find any stepping stones, or even a tree branch draped over the water. Great, I'm going to have to swim, she thought bitterly. She decided it wouldn't be a big loss, considering the rain had not stopped and she was already pretty soaked. She put a plated foot into the water, shivering as it slowly found a way to her skin.

She clenched her jaw and decided to get it over with, and dove in. Fayne grimaced. She had always hated swimming, but she made her way through the water, not rushing. She finally neared the opposite river bank, spotting the road almost concealed by the wildlife. She pathetically dragged herself onto the shore, laying there for a few moments. I hate my life, I hate my life, she kept telling herself. She finally pushed herself to her feet, not bothering to dust herself off. The rain washed away the mud instantly. Fayne began climbing the small but incredibly steep incline that surely had a road at the top, but found it difficult as what should have been dirt was turned to slippery mud. She fell on her face, her still body sliding down the muddy mess of a hill, until she finally splashed back into the river.

"I hate my life!" She yelled in Zandali, pitifully splashing the water with her hands in a frustrated manner. She looked like a toddler; sitting sprawled in the shallow water, hitting the water repeatedly with her hands. She finally calmed down, but didn't get out of the water. Instead, Fayne sat there, reflecting on her day, and how terrible it had been.

She concluded that it was all Varian's fault, and that if he would have listened to her, they could be sitting in a nice, dry inn or tavern in Booty Bay. Finally having the urge to move on, Fayne got up and instead skirted around the river until she found another hill that was easier to climb. In a matter of minutes, she was on a small road.

Fayne trudged onwards, stopping once to read a sign. A piece of wood labelled Grom'gol in Orcish seemed promising. She continued on her way, angered that the rain had still not stopped. Her hair was drenched, and it splayed awkwardly around her neck. And to top it off, her belly growled angrily. Fayne had no idea how far away she was from Grom'gol, but she knew she had to at least find something to eat along the way, whether it be a handful of berries or some sort of jungle plant.

She wandered into the forest once more, careful not to stray too far from the road. She got on her hands and knees to look around on the jungle floor for any vegetation that could suffice as a snack, or maybe a berry bush. Nothing. As she stood up, her head whacked something hard, and she rubbed it. Fayne took a step back, eyeing the large fruit-like thing hanging off of the short tree. She tugged on it until it was dislodged from the tree. As she examined it, she knocked on the reddish-brown shell. It was not completely hollow, which meant it defiantly had something inside, but not a lot. Fayne shrugged to herself, slicing it in half with her sword.

It smelled sweet, and she almost drooled when she saw the delicious looking flesh that was sheltered on the inside. She took a cautious sniff, as it could possibly be poisonous. It didn't seem to smell dangerous, and so she took a small nibble. The fruit was exactly how it smelt, sweet but with a slight tangy aftertaste.

The flesh of it reminded her of the prickly cacti Durotan birthed in the hotter seasons. Fayne greedily ate the fruit, and noticed that the rain gathered in the empty half she had discarded on the floor. She decided she'd leave both halves out like that, to give any small birds or animals clean drinking water. As she finished, she wiped her face insufficiently with her plate gloves.

That was one of the downfalls of heavy armour. She envied the priests and mages who could easily use a cloth sleeve as a makeshift napkin, but didn't in fear of possibly staining their precious garments. Prudes, Fayne thought. They were lucky they didn't choose to be warriors, or anything else that would constantly be covered in their own and other living creature's blood.

As Fayne began walking down the road again, she thought of what Asteriel had said about why she had chosen to be a warrior. It was true that most warriors were male, and the silly boys in Silvermoon City never had trouble teasing her about being manly. Sure, she wasn't completely feminine, because how could she fight something twice her size in a frilly dress? It was that mindset she seemed to display that caused the rude remarks from the men. She only wore a dress when she had to, and that was more often than people thought.

Her caretaker Brytne had dragged her to many balls and galas as she approached her teenage years, and Fayne had finally taken a small liking to them. She certainly did not like the prissy, hard to please self-proclaimed celebrities that also attended the events, but she did enjoy having a chance to dress more femininely every once in a while. Of course, as she turned 15 and left home to find her place in the world, she did not attend the parties any longer.

Her best friend, Thaintae, who wrote to her throughout her lonely days scattered around and outside Azeroth, told her of how many more stuck-up people moved to Silvermoon. She also wrote about how the balls and galas quickly dissolved with their arrivals and instead turned into parties with enough booze to leave a newly pregnant girl wondering who the father was.

Sadly, that girl happened to be Thaintae, and she soon gave up her paladin training to raise her new baby. Fayne realized with a pain in her chest that it had been years since she last wrote to her, and almost a decade since she last stood face-to-face with her best friend.

She finally found herself near a Horde encampment. She was greeted by a female orc who greeted Fayne warmly, and commented on the horrid weather. Fayne nodded and responded quickly, eager to rest for a bit. The woman, who would normally have found an encounter like that rude, noted that the blood elf seemed to have arrived on foot, and was soaked to the bone and covered in mud. She gave Fayne a final pitied look as the warrior disappeared in the scurry of workers.

Numerous orcs and goblins carried crates in and out of the back gate, rushing in order to get out of the rain. Fayne asked around until she was directed to a large table, thankfully offering some protection from the rain via a piece of leather tied up on four wooden posts, like a makeshift roof. She decided to wait a few minutes until the trader arrived. If not, she would go look around in the inn. Moments later, an orc lumbered over and around the other side of the table.

"How can I help you, blood elf?" Fayne ran a thumb over her chin. "What do you have to eat and drink?" She asked. He turned around and pulled out a few samples of breads and meat. Fayne pointed to a rather yummy looking piece of meat and an equally good looking piece of bread. "That would be our cured ham steak and our moist cornbread. The steak had been curing for a while now, so it should be nice and tender, and the cornbread was baked this morning." Fayne nodded, and asked for prices. "5 steaks for 20 silver and 5 loafs for 5 silver."

Fayne gave another thought and tried to calculate how much food she would need. "Say, how long do you think it would take to fly down to Booty Bay?" She asked finally. "If you make haste, less than a day." She then thought about how she tends to eat a lot, and if they were to meet up with a few of the others. She also thought about Varian. She never bothered to see how much he ate in a sitting. But judging from his size, it would probably be a lot. She sighed. "I'll take 10 of the hams and 15 of the cornbread then. Oh, and do you have any spring water?"

The man casually pulled out the ham and bread from their little storage places around the table and questioned how much water she'd need. "I'll take 15 water pouches," she replied. After the trader calculated the cost, Fayne handed him the money and a little extra. "Ma'am, you've handed me-"

"Keep the change," she said, giving him a small smile. He looked her over, and Fayne realized it's not everyday someone with armour like hers came to visit. She sauntered around the camp, taking some time to look around before she headed back to her own little camp. She walked over to another table to examine some recipe scrolls. "We've got a special going right now," a voice called out. She looked up at who she presumed was the vendor. "Oh?"

"We've got our own recipes crafted for the wildlife around here, and right now we're having a two for one sale," the woman said kindly. "Roast Raptor, the Curiously Tasty Omelet, and my personal favourite, Jungle Stew are our top sellers." Fayne read the ingredients of each.

"Oh, the stew sounds amazing," she said. She picked up the raptor recipe and looked it over again. "Alright, I'll take these two," she decided happily as she handed the woman the money, and again a little extra. "Thank you blood elf, have a nice day, even though this rain is ridiculous." Fayne said her goodbyes and walked back out into the rain, sighing. She had sealed everything in her waterproof backpack, and hoped she could find her way back. Suddenly, as she was about to leave, she remembered something important.

"Excuse me," she asked the female guard from earlier. "Is there any place I could write a letter?" The orc pointed to the inn and she thanked her again, running to the building. The innkeeper nodded as she asked politely, and directed her to the little table with writing essentials covering it messily. She plopped down on the chair and picked up a quill. Fayne tickled her nose with the feather as she pondered how she would begin writing, and what to say. She quickly wrote the address down and a return address in case the letter got lost. She inhaled and touched the inked quill to the paper.

Thaintae,

I'm sure you've been wondering about my well-being all these years, and I must reassure you that I am doing well. Fantastic even. I've been so busy all these years, moving place to place that it never crossed my mind to take a minute to write to you, and I am truly sorry. I feel ashamed. I'd be lying if I said I never thought of you all these years.

She paused for a moment.

The reason why I've been so distant lately was because I was helping Thrall and the Aspects defeat Deathwing... and now I'm moving on to something even more risky. I am sure you'll hear the news soon enough, and I don't know how you will take it, but please don't be angry with me... although you do have every right to be pissed at me for not writing to you all this time.

I hope you and Nimaera are doing well. I wish I could visit you, but with the stunt I am about to pull, I don't think I'll be able to. And please tell Brytne I'm doing fine, I'm sure she's pulling her hair out over me. Please, stay safe.

-Faynestra.

Fayne sealed the envelope with the hot wax stamp, and held it in her hands. She didn't know if she used the right words, and she felt terrible she couldn't tell her friend what she was about to do in a matter of days. A matter of days, she echoed in her mind. She was nervous, no doubt. If she failed, or if her plan even slightly failed, she would pretty much screw the Alliance over completely. Fayne silently got up and deposited the letter in the mail.

Varian was getting frustrated. Fayne had been gone for hours, and he was slightly worried. Had she been attacked? Did she maybe chicken out and leave? Maybe this was her plan all along. To get the king and his army out of the keep in order to raze down Stormwind. He laughed bitterly; if that was her intention, she single handedly succeeded. No, he thought. I will have to wait. If she doesn't show up, then I will hunt her down. Truly, he thought her plan was crazy. But it was so crazy, it might just work.

He wondered about Fayne and all her intentions. He had of course gotten his men to ferret out information about her. He almost didn't agree with the attack, until a trusted member of the SI:7 dug up enough background information on her to prove she wasn't a spy. They were also able to find the notice of her mother's death, and health records that proved she was neither insane or delusional. Varian was not one who was quick to trust someone, especially a member of the Horde, even if she denies she is not one out of her pride.

He thought back to what Asteriel told him about her flight with the blood elf, how she was energetic until she brought up the reason of why she chose to be a warrior. Varian could tell she was not born to be one, and only trained in order to try and gain self worth because deep down, she felt like nothing. Her mother's death haunted her, and she feels guilty that she could not save her.

She wants to save others from what they cannot save themselves from, Varian realized. Defending the defenceless. He dug down deeper, trying to find another root for this need she had. What else could possibly be so urgent for her she couldn't wait out a storm without bitching for an hour? Then it hit him like a wall. "Dear lord," he breathed. He had finally stitched it together. It explained why she acted so strange whenever Hellscream's name was brought up, and how she knew so much about his gladiators and how to defeat them. It was true that blood elves did consume some fel magic to keep themselves sane, but it didn't explain how she knew about everything else.

"What did he do to you, Fayne," he whispered.


Fayne finally saw the little camp through the trees. Her legs and feet were aching, and she would love nothing more than to curl up into a ball and take a long nap. Thankfully, the rain had stopped about an hour ago. She heard the tent open and she saw Varian poke his head out. "How was the swim?" He asked with a more harsh than usual tone. Fayne snorted and threw the bag at him. He caught it just as she plopped down onto the ground by the now lit campfire.

"Why do you sound so angry, you weren't the one walking to the damn Well of Eternity and back," she finally said after a moment of silence. She rested her elbow on her knee and her head in her hand. Varian threw the bag back at Fayne, but she didn't bother catching it. It hit her in the chest and slumped onto her lap.

"You look tired, and hungry. Did you not eat?" Fayne looked up at him with her eyes only. They were duller than usual, out of exhaustion. It was easy to tell how she was feeling because her eyes seriously dulled when she was physically and mentally exhausted, like a flame would as it began dying.

"No. It's hard to eat when you're getting chased by a tribe of feral trolls trying to poke your eyes out with spears," she retorted, closing her eyes. She could fall asleep right then and now, sitting upright.

"That explains the blood then," she heard him say through a mouthful of food as he most likely examined at her sword and shield. "You should eat."

Fayne feebly shook her head. "I lost my appetite. I'm too tired to eat." Wrynn grunted, almost as if he was shocked she declined food.

"At least rest then. You've been out for hours." She snorted again, but refrained from saying anything else. Varian looked her over. She truly looked terrible. She was slumped over, about to fall asleep in a sitting position. Her hair was a mess, and she had obtained a few scratches from whatever happened on her on her little adventure.

He questioned whether he should ask her about what he know knew about her. I'll let her rest first, he decided. He tried to tell her to go lay down in the tent. She objected, saying she was comfy, but she finally got up as he was getting ready to stand up and throw her into the tent.

"Yeah yeah, I'm going," she muttered as she walked past him, giving him a little kick in the thigh on her way. He heard her literally drop down inside the tent, as he continued with his thoughts while gazing absentmindedly at the fire.


Varian was surprised as Fayne crawled out of the tent after merely two hours of sleeping. "I can't sleep," she said as she sat down near him, looking at the fire. She flicked a small stone into it. "Oh?" He questioned

"Uh, yeah... reoccurring nightmares," she said simply. "I just need someone to talk to." Varian looked at her, thinking about what she was.

"I guess I haven't been completely honest about my past," Fayne said, looking at him. He tried searching her eyes, and noticed they were even fainter than before. She gave a small, tired laugh. "Hell, you probably don't even know the half of it."

"I think I do," Varian said. Fayne arched an eyebrow.

"Oh really?" Varian shook his head, and rubbed his hand across his face. "What the hell did he do to you, Fayne?" She gave him a bitter smile.

"Lots of things," she finally whispered, the smile fading as she bit her lip. "Blood elves are effected by fel energy more than any other race, for obvious reasons. He knew I fight viciously, and saw it as an opportunity. So he experimented," she said, looking back to the fire. Varian was silent for a moment.

"Experimented, how?" He finally asked. She clenched her jaw tightly. "He raped me," she said simply. Varian shot upright.

"He-"

"Yes, he fucking raped me. I don't need you repeating it for me," she yelled, calming down again and staring back into the fire. "After he was... done, he'd give me fel energy, to piss me off even more. He had what we called the 'death pit'. After we were all high off of the stuff, he'd send us in. He noted I 'performed better after sex'," she spat the last word, "and made sure to tell everyone. I was the only female. Everyone made sexual advances. Do you remember how I said someone slapped my ass?" She looked at him with a cold gaze.

"Yes," Varian said sternly.

"I killed him," she said. "I thought maybe it would be a one time thing, but I was sorely mistaken. Hellscream kept it up, and soon others did too. I-I killed a lot of them when I was in felrage," she whispered. "And that's exactly what he wanted."

Fayne tried to read his face. It was as if a tornado swept across it and scattered a bunch of emotions around. "W-wrynn?" She asked quietly.

"Why are you scared of him," he stated, his tone angry. She knew he wasn't angry at her.

"Why shouldn't I be?" She answered back, her voice shaking in fear. His eyes searched hers.

"Fayne," he said. "You have all the right to be pissed off at him, to wish death on him. But you have no right to feel scared of him. What he did to you is sick, twisted and-" he stopped as if to search for another word. "You aren't going to be doing this alone. You have an entire army behind you. You have Asteriel, you have Pathin, Fabren and everyone else who volunteered. You have me," he said with emphasis, pointing to his chest.

Then she thought about letting the Alliance down again if her plan failed. Fayne looked at him, her face still slightly twisted with fear.

"So now you know," she whispered. "Even I can break." She stood up, getting ready to leave. To walk away from her fears, her thoughts, everything. She felt his hand grab her wrist tightly. She stopped, and turned her head to look at him. She told herself she wouldn't cry in front of him, but she couldn't hold it in.

Varian turned her around completely, and embraced her tightly. She hugged him back, burying her face in his chest. She stood there, spasms rocketing through her as she cried, in the arms of the man who was supposed to be her sworn enemy. Deep down, she was surprised by his action. She closed her eyes tightly and pressed up closer to him, yearning for the warmth and compassion of another person. She hadn't done something like this since the night her mother died. She went nearly 20 years without hugging someone, she realized. He heard her sniffle pitifully, and hugged her tighter. He rested his head on the top of hers, careful not to crush her ears.

He didn't know why he hugged her, but all he knew was that they both truly needed it.