AN: So here we are at the end, with Abbendis still alive. Honestly though, we just went through a whole little story, so what changes were actually made in WoW lore besides her still living? This chapter is meant to answer that question, to give a real view at the difference made.
In time, New Hearthglen was built up into a proper stronghold, and the Alliance and Horde began to arrive as Westwind had once said, before his quick demise. Marcarius wasted no time in going out to meet them with a white flag, and though Abbendis was loath to allow it, he made apologies on behalf of the Crusade and requested to be treated much like the Argent Dawn – as an independent, neutral faction poised directly at the Scourge.
It would leave them left alone though, he promised. Of course, it didn't prevent both an Alliance and a Horde ambassador residing with them directly to oversee no 'overambitious action that might hinder the progress of their faction.' Yet before long, Marcarius had secured the word of the Wyrmrest Accord dragons to let them exist peacefully so long as they didn't interfere with their business.
The events of Wrathgate came with great outrage as the Forsaken betrayed them, exactly as the Scarlet Onslaught always believed. It wasn't just her that Marcarius was left to answer to. The very men seethed with betrayal over the cohorts that had been lost at the gate. Her husband promised answers before he left directly to the Horde camps.
He returned several weeks later with news: Sylvanas' pet Dreadlord had split the faction in two. Abbendis argued best she could against all undead, but he was unrelenting in his believe that with Varimathras banished and Sylvanas again in full control of her people, they were stalwart allies. The undead were, of course, her former kin of Lordaeron. While neither she nor her people gave into his words and beliefs, she reluctantly allowed them to continue neutrality to the Horde's undead.
With the coming of the new Argent Crusade, under Tiron Fordring and the purified Ashbringer, the Scarlet Onslaught all but dissolved as it immediately fell behind Tiron's banner. He met Abbendis personally, the age old friend, and she saw in him the fire of retribution that burned in all of them. And while he wielded the Ashbringer, she would follow his command.
Together, the Argent Crusade and Scarlet Onslaught pushed up through Northrend and Icecrown Glacier, suffering the expected heavy casualties, and managed to secure themselves bases and strongholds to strike from, even directly on the Lich King's doorstep. Just before the final push, Tirion argued his case for forming the Argent Tournament to select champions that could raid the citadel without becoming lost and new enemies in the attempt. Abbendis had been a stanch enemy of his plan, saying they should continue scouring the Scourgelands to weaken the Lich King's rule and power before then.
Despite the grudging of both the Alliance and the Horde though, they along with Jaina Proudmoore agreed to the plan. Abbendis found her support in the Knights of the Ebon Blade, but neither she nor her men trusted the former Scourge Death Knights. Too much of their blood had stained those Saronite blades to ever stand side-by-side.
Again though, her husband met them and managed to form plans between them. The Knights would attack certain Scourge points and the Onslaught others, to work separately but for the same goal. Tirion had his little tournament, but without him, they managed to raze Ymirheim, the Cathedral of Darkness, the Fleshworks, and even claimed all three remaining gates in their respective names.
While they still sieged the western vrykul city of Jotunheim, using their naturally-defended forward base at the Onslaught Harbor, Tirion took his champions and began his assault on Icecrown Citadel. When they gained purchase inside, they entered without Abbendis' men or support, but with the vrykul now completely scattered and their armies in shambles, she fortified the rear defense, knowing better than to leap inside the citadel blind. The last thing the Ashbringer needed was her or her men raised as Death Knight champions to bar his way.
It was a tense string of days as they waited for news from within. There was horror at the open aerial battle of gunships, done so foolishly, and occasionally their flying scouts spotted the raid emerging still strong to outer ramparts and facing untold monstrosities. The shining Ashbringer lit the way.
Marcarius remained at her side always, whether she was praying or leading the battles. Under his command, her guard kept her safe, both through war and the late night assassins, and they were still together during the stressful wait on Tirion. The only relief came when the fresh-from-training Death Knights from the incomplete Malykriss tried ambushing them at the citadel entrance. The Scarlet Onslaught relished the chance to do something, and the inexperienced Scourge knights made easy clean up, despite their gifted power.
The day came finally when one scout found the Ashbringer emerging on the final tower, before the Frozen Throne and the Lich King himself. Word buzzed from everyone in the final showdown. However, any further attempt to view the battle was shut out as patrolling Scourge took to eliminating their fliers. Even Marcarius' floating eye was destroyed before it could reach them.
For hours, their spyglasses remained trained to the citadel's tower. Demonstrations of spells, magic, and Light flashed occasionally, with no clear sign of victory or defeat. After the final burst of Light and the following explosion of darkness, no further signs revealed themselves. Against her wishes, Marcarius took a gryphon and chose himself as the one who would discover the conclusion.
He disappeared atop the tower. For several long minutes he remained out of sight, though Aelina continued to reassure her that he still lived. Eventually, the familiar snowy gryphon appeared from the towertop and flew back with eager speed. Abbendis didn't allow herself to feel relief until she confirmed Marcarius was atop it with her own eyes.
Everyone crowded around him at his landing, demanding to know the truth. Abbendis stood at the front of them, waiting. Still mounted atop the dancing bird and dressed in the spotless tabard of white and crimson, Marcarius held himself proudly as he held up his hand and uncurled his fingers, revealing to everyone a metal fragment of dark grey and glowing blue.
A shard of the Lich King's sword. Frostmourne was broken.
A thousand voices raised in earth-shaking cheer. After so many years, so many tragedies, so much death, loss, and fighting... The traitor prince was brought to justice. Lordaeron was avenged. Their fight... her fight... was over.
Abbendis' head bowed as the tears spilled over.
xx
"Come on, the ball won't kick itself."
Brigitte leaned against the wooden frame as she watched her husband pull their hay play ball back with his foot just as Damion tried kicking it. The boy stumbled but didn't fall this time, and he jumped after him with his usual robust. Marcarius rolled it away again and again, still surprisingly agile in their complacent life.
Finally, the boy grew too frustrated, and he cried, "Dad! This is no fair!"
"Fair?" Marcarius asked, stopping with his foot atop the ball and his hands going to his hips while he stared. "Too much of your mother in you, I'd s..."
Brigitte watched as, while he spoke, Damion suddenly struck in the moment and kicked the ball out from under him. The kick was true, and the ball passed right over the rope boundary they had set for a 'goal.' With a loud hoot and holler, Damion ran around with his arms out, celebrating his victory over his still speechless father.
Too much of her, he said?
Shaking her head at their antics, Brigitte covered her laugh and shouted, "Come on in, boys! Dinner is ready."
While Damion still ran about in his victory, Marcarius stooped to pick him up, and their son cheered as he was lifted up onto Marcarius' shoulders. She felt the same warm feeling as her husband's eyes passed over to her and he smiled. As he approached, he asked, "How's the little terror? Aunty Aelina grown any grey hairs yet?"
"She's run out of answers," Brigitte told him, holding their wood door open as he carefully stepped in with Damion still on his shoulders. "It's time for the unstoppable wit to meet the immovable inquisitor."
As the door closed behind her, Marcarius suddenly leaned over and kissed her lips, and she smiled against him, especially when Damion exclaimed, "Ew!"
As they went to the dining room together, he lifted the five-year-old from his shoulders to sit him in his chair, and he muttered, "I swear, Bethany Sindrea Abbendis won't be satisfied until every secret of the universe is in her hands."
At the sound of his voice, the twin-tailed brunette looked up with her eager eyes. "Papa! If Draenor was round but now flat, what happens if you jump off the side?"
Three years old and persistent to the point of asking questions even as she fell asleep. At the subject, Marcarius directed a dry look at the now matronly succubus. The demon gave a weak shrug and said, "We started on mean old ogres. Don't ask."
Brigitte smiled and went to the cooling pot of stew and the spit of chickens, preparing their dishes while he sat down, thoughtful. She listened as he began the long fight. "They say the long fall ends only in the Twisting Nether."
"Who's "they"?" Bethany asked.
"Scholars more astute than myself."
"What's astute mean?"
Brigitte caught his wink in her direction as he said, "That you stub your nose in a book until all your hair is grey."
"Why would they do that?"
"To be clever enough to answer the questions of little girls."
Oblivious to the reference, Bethany continued, "Papa, what's in the Twisting Nether?"
It was a question to be answered with caution, but Brigitte knew her husband. She was already on the verge of laughing as he answered flatly, "Aunty Aelina's grandparents."
The succubus choked on her drink at the response, while Bethany pressed, "Why would they live there? Isn't it dark and icky there?"
"They like dark and icky."
"Why?"
"Same reason you like a warm bed."
She paused, thinking with that woefully quick mind, then asked, "So are my cousins are with Grandpa and Grandma Aelina?"
As she was finally sitting with the food distributed, Brigitte found herself laughing out loud with Marcarius. Aelina buried her face in her hand.
xx
When Brigitte finally retired to bed that night, she paused at the bedroom door, finding Marcarius kneeled before the chest they always kept locked. A cold feeling crept into her heart as she remembered old words and agreements, especially when she saw the glowing, crystal shoulder he had worn so long ago.
With one hand dropping to her suddenly sick stomach, she asked quietly, "What are you doing?"
"A messenger came to me today, when I was out in the fields. Wanted to tell be about a 'Deathwing,'" he said, voice low and thoughtful.
"Does that name mean something to you?" she asked.
"It means a lot to me. But he's supposed to be dead. It was confirmed that his corpse fell into the maelstrom whirlpool."
Taking a deep breath, she asked the important question, "Is it our fight?"
"No one knows yet, but I've got a bad suspicion about old gods. Either way, the Legion is sure to move during the distraction." He lifted a heavy axe from the chest and turned to her, a faint smile on his lips. "Can you still pick this up to follow me?"
Her axe, from when she was High General. Brigitte hadn't carried the burden of armor since before childbirth, when her belly was too round for it. At the reminder, she closed her eyes, heart aching. "Marcarius, you know I can't. We have Damion and Bethany now – our kids. If you must go... if you must, I will make sure they never forget their father in your absence, but..."
He set the axe back inside the chest and leaned back. "We finally have our cabin in the woods, Brigitte. Hearthglen is just a few miles away, but we are left alone in your reclaimed Plaguelands. I know my words then, but now that I'm here, with you and the kids, in the life we fought for and built after... I just... can't seem to leave, not without you."
"Then stay," she urged, stepping into the room now and kneeling down with him. Her arm came around his broad back. "The world doesn't need old vets like us anyways. Let the new generations fight for their world. You did your part in saving the Scarlet Crusade."
He huffed a laugh. "Temptress."
Tense with anxiety, Brigitte still managed to smile and say, "Stay here, and I promise that in less than two years, I'll have you fat with my cooking. We'll start Damion's schooling, likely Bethany will want to join in to bother us to tears with questions, and we'll watch together as they grow into a fine young man and woman who will go to start their own lives."
He said nothing right away, torn between her and his duty. Light, how she hated making him choose in such a way, but like him, she couldn't bear to see them part, now that they faced the decision. She hadn't even noticed that in the moment, their hands had come together and fingers laced until he squeezed her once.
His shoulders slumped though, and she watched as he slowly lowered the lid of the chest and picked up the lock. Still he hesitated, staring at their strong lock, so she took it from him and slowly, just waiting to hear an argument, slipped it back on and closed it. At the click, they both seemed to lose all their tension, like the snip of a rope.
He was first to stand, and with an offered hand he lifted her back to her feet. Quickly, Brigitte took him in her arms, embracing him tightly, and when his returned it, their lips met. Once they drew back, he had a tired smile on his face. "Make it a year and a half, and we'll have a deal."
Brigitte laughed and sealed it with another kiss. Their story was over, after so much conflict and their parts in the historical events – to be carried on by all the younger, fresher men and women of the world.
Their story was finally over.
The End.
AN: And that's game, folks. Thus ends Abbendis. I do hope everyone enjoyed. Final stats appear to be 40k words, with a count of 150 active readers by the end. I'd like to give a special thanks everyone that reviewed, few that you are.
I'd also like to thank the folks at Pick Up Stix, strangely, for putting up with me as I wrote out 95 percent of this thing there.
The following are the story notes I kept at the bottom of the document at all times, which are really just names for this one. Upper is in-game names, bottom is OC's and Abbendis herself:
-Bishop Street, High Abbot Landgren, Commander Jordan, Torturer LeCraft, Captain Shely, High Commander Galvar Pureblood, Foreman Kaleiki, Nathrezim, Sinner's Folly, Saidan Dathrohan, Isillien, Balnazzar, Taelan Fordring, Grand Admiral Barean Westwind, High Inquisitor Valroth
-Marcarius, Aelina, Brigitte Abbendis, Goldring, Pendance, Gendal, Fulner, General Terandis, Xxy, Damion, Bethany Sindrea Abbendis
