Sylvanas stared out of a huge viewing window that adorned a comfortable Gilnean fashioned study. The quaint room was part of what used to be known as Graymane Manor but was now, and would be forever known, as the Dark Lady's hall. Dark foreboding clouds were starting to march inward to land, rumbling with the threat of a night's storm. On the choppy waves, her ships were safely anchored, and even from here she could see sailors battening down the last of the cargo and ship implements. Smoke from outlying Gilnean villages curled into the gray noon sky proclaiming that even if the Worgen one day tried to retake their homeland there would be nothing there but newly erected Forsaken villages in there stead's.

At any other time Sylvanas would be basking in her conquest and victory, slapping the backs of the heroes who had stood out in the war, and renaming historic Gilnean landmarks as more insult to the defeated Gilnean's. Scolding herself inwardly, Sylvanas corrected herself it wouldn't have been basking per say, she would have been gloating to Wren who was always upset when Sylvanas was victorious. But the assassin was dead. Sylvanas had to keep reminding herself of that fact. So used to Wren's presence, more than once she had strode into a room about to call for the slave only to halt mid speech and remember that she would never answer again.

The new assassins vying for Wren's old position were in no uncertain terms incompetent. It wasn't there fault, Sylvanas knew, it was simply because they did not know her personally like Wren had known her. Wren had known her pet peeves, how to push her buttons, and what she approved and what she didn't with out even having to ask. She did not have to worry would Wren botch an assassination, since she had the highest faith in her slave. But most ironically, a fact which Sylvanas would have killed Wren before admitting aloud; she missed her singing and the company. Even if it was forced singing and hated company Sylvanas had to choose carefully to whom she divulged the most private and personal of matters. What better person than Wren?

Sighing, Sylvanas turned from the window to a small table stand next to a comfortable looking blue armchair. It must have been Genn Graymane's private place of relaxation for when Sylvanas had discovered the room; books had still been stacked around the chair and the liquor cabinet in the room open. Pouring herself a glass of Gilnean brandy, Sylvanas inclined in the chair, feeling the true thrill of victory sweep over her. This was her land now. She had strengthened her kingdom tenfold, and had driven a whole nation to the brink of extinction with the survivors having to beg the rest of their allies for refuge. And with another failed war, she doubted Genn and his nation of mutts would be looked upon with any kinder eyes.

Yes, Sylvanas admitting, sniffing the brandy appreciatively while swirling it, even with Wren dead, un life was indeed good. Chuckling, Sylvanas took a sip. The moment the Dark Lady put the glass to her lips, she knew it'd been drugged. Cursing herself for such a stupid error on her part, she strove to rise, and call her guards, but only managed one step and a pitiful gurgle before falling unconscious to the floor.

Mere moments later Wren dropped from the lofted ceiling, a wide wicked grin on her face as she looked upon the unconscious form of Sylvanas Windrunner.

~8~8~

"Huh…what…" Sylvanas mumbled drowsily. Her head was throbbing, and swimming in confusion, threatening to make her lose consciousness once more.

She opened her eyes a crack to find darkness had fallen. What happened, what day was it? She tried to move, only to find her hands and feet had been tied. As her sanguine eyes opened wider, she noticed a small fire going, showing at least a little of the terrain. It was an old Gilneas ruin, probably some temple or stone farmhouse. Ivy had grown upon those few walls that still stood, wrapping around the crumbling warped stone, while weeds choked every corner of the rubble. There was one spot, however, where the weeds were trodden upon by dark leather boots.

Arching her head up Sylvanas saw Wren starting down at her, arms crossed. Fear took over then, but Sylvanas, ever the cunning, masked it with anger, hoping to bluff the assassin into thinking that she had known all along that Wren was alive. The Dark Lady snarled struggling against her bonds. "Wren, what are you-"

She got no further as the human was beside her in spilt seconds. Her hand gripped the back the Sylvanas' head and slammed it into the stone foundation. Sylvanas hissed in pain as she felt the abrasive, coarse stone dig into the skin on her forehead. She tried calling upon the curses power to stun the human but to her terror found the curse had been broken. On an after thought she should have known that was the case. Wren had died, in some way or another, and doing so nullified the curse.

Picking the Banshee Queen up by her hair, the assassin let out a roar, slamming Sylvanas into a standing wall. Stars burst into Sylvanas' vision at such a barbaric blow, she stumbled backward but Wren held her to the cold sharp stone wall.

"How does it feel, 'mistress'?" Wren whispered savagely into Sylvanas' ear, her voice laced with nothing but hate and rage that had been tucked away for ten years. "To be helpless, at my hands?"

Turning the Dark Lady so that she faced her, Wren let her fury fly in a series of brutal punches. Afterwards she let Sylvanas fall in a painful heap on the hard earth. Squatting down beside her head, Wren cocked her head to the side slightly while holding Sylvanas' own so that she looked directly into her eyes. "Tell me, witch, how does it feel to be at my mercy for once?"

Wren tried to hide her frustration when Sylvanas merely laughed in her face. "You think this is torture, that this is pain? I have been through hell and back, and felt more pain than you can possibly dream. You can't do anything to me worse than what I've already been through." She managed to shake her head a litte. "I must say, Wren, almost eleven years as my slave you didn't learn much about me."

"Oh I learned, Sylvanas." Wren replied, rising slowly. She headed to the fire, throwing more wood on to brighten the scene. Only then did Sylvanas see the brand heating in the blaze. She smiled when Sylvanas' eyes found hers once more, all laughter gone. "If there is anything you taught me it was how to take proper revenge."

With that, Wren dropped herself on the other side of the fire, looking through it directly at Sylvanas. The only sounds were the constant crackling of wood, and the racking caw of crows as they perched in the tree's around them as if spectators to some strange ritual. Dawn was barely tinting the horizon turning the sky into a soft gray.

"Did it please you to see me miserable, Sylvanas?" Wren asked after long moments of silence. "To know there was some one more miserable than you in this world?"

"I don't answer the questions of slaves." Sylvanas snarled, still trying to free herself. But she that would be all but impossible, Wren knew what she was doing.

Wren's eyes narrowed, her jaw clenched in anger. "I am no longer your slave, Sylvanas."

Sylvanas scoffed. "Wren, you've always been a slave, even before I made it official. You have always been a slave to your instincts. Those years ago when the Worgen set to ambush me, you chose slavery over taking your chances in the wilds."

"I had no choice!" Wren snarled, feeling the terror of the often suppressed truth seize her. It was a nagging little fact that had haunted the dark crevices of Wren's mind. What would have happened if she had fled?

Sylvanas smiled then. "You didn't think I saw you before you were injured those ten years ago. But I did see you, you were just standing there deciding should you run to a freedom filled with hunger and constant danger or come back to me and be relatively safe as a slave girl. I think you were relieved when that Worgen injured you, so that you could come crawling back just like the scared little slave you really are."

Once again it seemed instant Wren was atop her letting her punches fly with all the rage she could muster. She only stopped when Sylvanas finally let out a whimper of agony, vainly attempting to curl up from the blows.

Sylvanas spoke through teeth clenched to fight off cries of pain. "Get it over with, Wren, I have much to do with my newly conquered territory. Kill me so that the val'kyr can find me and resurrect me already."

Wren cocked her head to the side, a breeze tousling her honey locks. There was a cunning cruel smile on her lips, one that made Sylvanas inwardly shrink away. "Who said anything about killing you? No, Sylvanas, I would not be as stupid as that. I know the val'kyr can sense your death and follow it. What they won't be able to follow or find is your undead self sinking to the bottom of the sea, chained to heavy rocks. Forever to be left in a watery grave alive. How's that for putting a wrench in your plans? All that hard work for nothing?"

If Sylvanas had blood flowing through her it would have turned to ice. Fear, true fear, such as Sylvanas had never known pierced her heart like an arrow. To be left where no one would ever find her, no hope, just an eternity at the bottom of the sea as life passed her by and she was forgotten. That truly scared Sylvanas Windrunner. "You can't do this, Wren." Sylvanas struggled faster against her bonds almost frantic, but it was all in vain.

Wren laughed, almost insanely rising and as she did so picking up the red hot brand. She played with it like a loving toy twirling it skillfully in her hand. "Compared to those ten years of hell you put me through, it is a kindness. You should be on your hands and knees thanking whatever deity you once believed in that I don't have time torture you to death." At the thought, Wren sighed pleasantly in the most crazed fashion. "Finally my deepest dreams come true."

She knelt beside Sylvanas one hand gripping her silver hair the other steadying the brand aimed for Sylvanas' face. Wren smiled crazily. "Now, won't this be a nice beauty mark seared onto your cheek? I am almost sad no one will ever see it."

Panic gripped the Dark Lady, she was unable to tear her gaze away from the glowing brand. Awkwardly she tried to move away but the assassin held her fast. She felt her mouth moving quickly but only a few words managed to stumble out. "Wren, no, please."

Wren laughed like a crazed lunatic. "Beg some more, Sylvanas, like I had to all those times you punished me with that blasted curse. Go on, I want to know what it feels like to ignore a plea for mercy."

The pleading died in Sylvanas' throat, her mind wrought with terror. All she could do was listen to Wren's maniacal laughing and stare at the glowing iron of the brand.

The brand came down. Sylvanas couldn't help but shut her eyes, all muscles tensing, a cry of fear escaping the lips of the Banshee Queen. The flaming hot metal hissed fiercely, as smoke rose up to the air. Sylvanas' eyes shot open to find the brand firmly planted in the grass inches away from her face. The dewed grass blackened and curled against the heat, with a little smoke rising to the slowly brightening sky.

Slowly, Sylvanas' eyes tore away from the brand to look at Wren in awed disbelief. "Y…you…you spared me?"

The assassin no longer looked insane, but a grimace was etched into her face. She nodded slowly. "Unlike you, Sylvanas, I will not become the master which I hated." Wren tossed the brand aside carelessly. "But come after me or Thalos and I will fulfill my revenge. That is a promise, and as you always liked to say, I never disappoint."

With that, Wren let out a deep sigh; it seemed a heavy weight had been lifted off her shoulder. She had resisted temptation of vengeance towards Sylvanas. That made a world of difference to Wren, knowing that the cycle of hate ended with her. With a wide smile, she began to walk away.

"Wren." Sylvanas' voice halted the assassin. The Dark Lady sounded timid, ashamed, confused, like a child woken from a bad dream.

Wren almost turned back, but halted mid way. There was nothing Sylvanas could say about the sudden moment of mercy and even if she had thought of a reasonable question Wren would have had no answer.

"Good bye, mistress." Wren finally managed to say before turning forward and walking away into the dawn.

A/N: Just one, maybe two chapters more and this story will be done!