The little priestess, Beatrix Sasin, was the first living human to be allowed to enter the Undercity since the fragile truce between Horde and Alliance had been established.
The demons of the legion were still trying to invade Azeroth, and as long as they would continue to do so, it meant a simpler life for the rogue and his companion.
He had even gone before the Banshee queen to ask for the permission to bring Beatrix into the city where he had started his life for the second time. Sylvanas had requested to see this girl who spent her life caring for one of the forsaken ones, obviously intrigued by the idea.
Valante took Beatrix' hand and held it tightly as they entered the old, crumbling city. She looked around her, eyes big and curious, while he scoured the shadows for movement or indication of danger.
"Relax, Val," she told him, squeezing his hand. "The queen has given me permission to be here, and I doubt anyone will go against her will."
"I wish you had not talked me into this," he mumbled, pulling at his hood until it shrouded his face in shadows. "I don't like the feeling of it."
"But you have seen my city," she reminded him. "I want to see yours. And you know you cannot resist me when I want something."
There was a snort from inside the hood, and Beatrix knew he was frowning although she could not see it. It was true, the rogue could not deny her anything if she nagged him long enough.
"I'm just saying it makes my skin crawl," he whispered as they reached the pair of undead abominations guarding the upper entrance to Undercity's elevators.
"Where does it crawl to?" she giggled back, smiling to the rather frightening creatures who smiled back with their misshapen faces.

There was an honorary guard waiting where the elevator came to a halt. Valante spoke to the guards and soon they were being led into the heart of the city, a large circular room lined with staircases and walkways, where hundreds of Forsaken were going about their daily business.
Valante watched the priestess as she smiled and nodded at people whom she never had met and who sent her looks of pure hatred. He squeezed her hand hard, because otherwise his instincts would have taken over and he would have drawn a knife.
The looks from his people bore into his back, into his head, and made him cower by the feeling of betraying them. He could feel them hating her for the same reason that he found himself unable to hurt her. Her mere existence was mocking them, because she was so alive, so incredible alive that it made them even more dead.
Beatrix stopped as she noticed how he was dragging his left leg more than usual and how his back was slightly crouched, as if he was a metal coil ready to leap.
"Bony?" she whispered, worry written in her pretty features. "Are you okey?"
The guards stopped and looked annoyed because of this pause, but Beatrix raised her hand to tell them she needed a moment.
"No, I'm not okey." His voice was barely a hiss. "I feel horrible."
There was only one woman in the entire world who could have done what Beatrix did next and accomplished the same result. Luckily, that woman was her.
She put one arm around the rogue's trembling shoulders, sheltering him from the eyes with her body and robes. With the other hand she pulled his hood off, and stroked his hair lovingly.
"Don't worry, love. I'm sorry about talking you into this, I did not know how hard it would be for you."
And while they were standing there on one of the staircases in the middle of the circular room, hundreds of pair of eyes upon them, she carefully kissed his head. The whispering and general murmur of the crowd died away for just a moment, but the spell had been cast.
A hundred rotten hearts felt like beating again, a hundred dying souls did for a single moment live in the shock of such tenderness, in a hundred minds the darkness was for no more than the blink of an eye driven away by the holy light in the priestess soul.
Valante looked around him, eyes daring anyone to look at him with hatred now he had found his strength again, but this time nobody met his gaze. As he nodded to Beatrix the guards continued to lead them toward the chamber where they would meet the queen of the Forsaken.

"She was awfully nice!" Beatrix exclaimed as she and the rogue were leaving the throne room. "And really pretty too."
Valante had to admit he had been very surprised at the kindness and hospitality the queen had shown his friend. Word of what had happened earlier had obviously reached her ear before the two arrived, and she had whispered in the rogue's ear as they left:
"Protect her with everything you are. There are not many people as lucky as you in this world. To have someone to fill their lives with meaning like she fills yours is the most precious gift. To her, you are alive, not just some reanimated creature made out of rags and bones. Protect her with all that you are."

Now he watched her as she curiously knocked on the coffin where he used to sleep when he was in the city.
"Don't you think it's rather stigmatizing to sleep in a coffin just because you're dead?" she asked him, trying to pry open the lid of the coffin.
"How else would you stack a million undead people inside this city?" His mood had improved much now they were out of the trade-quarters. "And don't do that," he told her as she knocked and scratched on his coffin. "You are gonna disturb Rags."
"Rags? You mean there's someone in there?" She sounded mortified. "Is it kind of... renting your room out when you're not using it?"
He sighed, knowing he never should have mentioned it, and released the hinges that kept the lid in place.
"Hello, Rags," he said into the coffin. "There's someone who wants to play with you, and I bet she can match your stamina."
Two small, shining eyes opened and there was a creaking sound as if something stretched.
"Mrrraoowww?" Rags asked.

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Through the iron winter to the fires of June
Through the five o'clock skyline to the deadlocked moon
There's a flickering figure dancing alone
Making her junk creatures out of rags and bones

Where the vapour is rising between the seedling and the vine
And though the shadow's in waiting are wasting their time
Cos my veins are tracking street maps and the compass and the stones
And I'm still making my junk creatures out of rags and bones

Oh yeah, the hammer and the nail
Oh yeah, the heart's in the small change
Oh yeah, and the Devil's in the detail
And in my rags and bones

Now it's the fist through the window, it's the wine that you brought
It's a far cry from the shackles of cognitive thought
It's the lines on the fridge door, just see how they've grown
Up from little junk creatures made from rags and bones

And now the candle's flickered out, the walls have been built
And they are racking up the weapons of blood and piss and guilt
Voices have been silenced, but they belong to anyone
And these little junk creatures made from rags and bones
And these little junk creatures made from rags and bones

*****************************************

Just an episode from their life. Bee decided she wanted to see Undercity, and who can deny that girl?

If you read the lyrics, think of Sylvanas and the undead army. I have always thought of the Forsaken when I heard that song. Thea Gilmore's "Rags and Bones"