"Jack?" Braelyn asked again, unable to believe what she was seeing. Without thinking, she walked forward and poked him in the chest before running her fingers down the man's cheek.
"Yeah, Rae, it's me," the rogue replied, taking her hand in his and kissing it. Braelyn shuddered, not just at his touch, but also at the nickname. After his betrayal, she was never comfortable with people shortening her name, especially to Rae.
"You... you... bastard!" she exclaimed, yanking her hand free, and stepping backwards.
"Oh, love, calm down," Jack said with a laugh. "It's all in the past now, right?"
"I almost died because of you!" Braelen yelled, fists clenched tightly against her side.
"I would have gotten you out of the Stockades if SI:7 hadn't released you," Jack replied.
"I'm sure that would have been a great relief to my headless corpse!"
"Now you're just being overly dramatic."
"I'm sorry, I guess I should forget about the past," Braelyn conceded, eyes narrowing, her rage so great she was beginning to forget about how sick she was feeling. "After all, I have a whole new reason to be angry at you now."
Jack winced as he realised that he was making the situation worse from himself. He made a note not to tell her about his conversation with her husband. "Look, Rae, love, I know this seems bad, but, really, you're in no danger here," he gave his former lover his most charming grin, the one that had won her over all those years ago. "Just behave yourself, don't make trouble for the Brotherhood, and you'll be out before long."
"Yeah, that grin no longer works on me, arsehole," Braelyn snapped, crossing her hands over her chest. She smirked when she saw a quick flash of worry in the rogue's eyes. "And will I be let go before or after war breaks out?"
"War?" Jack asked in confusion. "What are you talking about, love?"
"Don't call me 'love'!" Braelyn snapped. "There's only person entitled to call me that, and you are most definitely not him!" She took a deep breath. "And don't play dumb, Jack, I know you're not a fool."
"Sorry, lo... Braelyn," Jack stammered, "but I honestly have no idea what you're talking about."
Braelyn sighed in frustration. Trust Jack to keep playing games long after the need to do so had passed. Then again... maybe he was just a hired lackey, doing what he was paid to do and not asking questions. The Defias did ocassionally hire freelancers, and Jack was the type of person who never cared about details when it came to his employers, as long as he got paid on time.
She looked at his gloved hands. "Take off your gloves," Braelyn commanded.
"Excuse me?" Jack said. He looked down at his hands as if trying to figure out Braelyn's interest.
"Take off your gloves and show me your hands," Braelyn insisted.
With a shrug, Jack removed his leather gauntlets, revealing the long, smooth fingers of the aristocrat he was. It must have been difficult for him to keep them so soft considering the line of work he was in.
Jack raised his hands to Braelyn, turning them over to show her both the palms, and the backs. They were clean, no tattoo in sight.
Braelyn let out a relieved sigh. "You're not with the Defias, then?" she asked. "Not one of Vanessa Van Cleef's lackeys?"
Jack let out a loud burst of laughter. "Oh, hell, no!" he said. "I do a bit of freelance work for her, but I'm from the House of Nobles, so it's best that Vanessa and I keep our distance from each other. Only said I'd help with this job because it involved you, and I wanted to see how you're doing."
"How touching," Braelyn muttered. She glared at Jack. "We're you one of the fake soldiers?" she asked. "Were you responsible for hurting my friend?"
"Fake soldiers?" he replied. "Not me, love. I just helped set this place up, and ran a few messages."
"Well, Jack, tell me," Braelyn asked, "why do you think I was kidnapped?" She had to wrap her arms around her waist to stop herself from slapping him as Jack shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly.
"I think it has something to do with your choice of husband," he said, clearly bored with the conversation now. "You pissed off a fair few people, love. I'm guessing someone wants to show the blood elves that they can't just go around stealing our women folk. Or perhaps they want to send a message to Wrynn about letting marriages like this happen."
The rogue stopped and thought for a moment. He grinned. "Are you thinking your man will start a war to get you back?"
Braelyn shook her in disbelief as she scoffed. "I've been locked in this room for almost a week now, and I've still managed to find out more about the situation than you have." She raised a trembling hand and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was still so damn tired.
"Jack, I was kidnapped by men pretending to be officers in the Stormwind army, screaming about traitors to the Alliance and an unjust peace," she exclaimed. "I also just overheard a high elf talking about disguising himself as a blood elf in order to trick humans into thinking they are being attack by a Sin'dorei. Does that strike you as a plot to warn blood elf men to stay away from human women?"
Jack frowned, and Braelyn could tell he was digesting what she had said. As much as she disliked rogues, she could admit that were not, as a rule, stupid people. They were cunning, intelligent, and adept at reading people and situations. She could almost see the lightbulb go off above Jack's head as the man came to the same conclusion that she had.
The rogue let out a low, appreciative whistle. "Well, I'll be," he said. "Someone's ambitious."
"Not ambitious, Jack," Braelyn said, "vengeful. I should have known those two bitches wouldn't just lie down and accept defeat back in Pandaria."
"Lady Proudmoore, then?" Jack asked. Braelyn nodded grimly.
"Once the conflict intensifies, I'll bet those Stormwind soldiers will be outed as fakes, hired by the blood elves. I'm guessing Proudmoore wants to start a war in such a way as to be able to tell the rest of the Alliance 'I told you so'. With the added bonus of making the Sin'dorei out to be the main villains, and being able to torture me.
"She's clever, Jack; using my abduction as a catalyst for war is painful enough, but keeping me locked up so I can't reveal the truth or resolve this issue until it's too late is even worse. Perhaps they'll even make me out to be complicit in the whole affair, a willing participant in a Silvermoon plot to destroy the Alliance."
Jack nodded. "Yeah, love. We all know that once war starts, the truth won't matter. Old hatreds will take over, and we'll be back to how things were five years ago." He then gave another shrug of his shoulders and started heading towards the door.
"Wait!" Braelyn cried. "Where are you going?"
"I can't sit around talking to you all day, love," Jack replied, "as lovely as it's been to see you again. I've got things to do, hunters to gank."
"I can't believe you!" Braelyn shrieked, stalking towards him. "You backstabbing, traitorous, disloyal, lying bastard!" she added, emphasising each word with a blow to Jack's head and shoulders. The rogue let out a pained cry, and rolled away from her, warding her off with outstretched hands.
"What the hell is wrong with you, woman?" he yelled, rubbing his head with one hand and eyeing her as if she were a wild beast.
"'What the hell is wrong with me'?" Braelyn repeated angrily. "What the hell is wrong with you? I tell you that war is about to break out, and your response is to shrug your shoulders like it's no big deal and leave?"
"I'm a freelance rogue, love; there's great business opportunities to be had in war-time," Jack said.
"Oh, really?" Braelyn challenged, managing to land a few more solid blows to his chest. "And how do you think war will affect the value of your properties, Jack? If you manage to keep hold of them, that is. I know Lady Sylvanas is keen on Duskwood, and Redridge is always having trouble with the Blackrock Orcs. Then there's Westfall. Vanessa Van Cleef would have to be an idiot not to take advantage of a war to take over Sentinel Hill. And she doesn't strike me as an idiot."
Braelyn stopped trying to beat Jack as the rogue got a thoughtful look in his eye. "Well, there's plenty of gold to be had in peacetime, too, I guess" he said. "Government's pay well to obtain the information needed to maintain the peace."
"Are you going to help me get out of here, Jack?" Braelyn asked. "If you ask for payment, though, I will start hitting you again," she warned.
"Heh, fair enough," Jack said. "Yeah, I'll help you, love, but we'll need to wait a day or so."
"We don't have time!"
"I need to get another key, Rae," Jack said, "and arrange a few things, like transportation. Plus, I don't need the Brotherhood seeing me help you out. I'd like to keep my head attached to my shoulders, thanks."
"Fine," Braelyn huffed, reluctantly seeing the truth to his words. "But, I swear, Jack, if you betray me again, I will hunt you down... and I have very powerful friends these days."
"Madam, you wound me!" Jack declared, hand held to his chest in mock distress, as he walked over to the door. He gave her another roguish grin and a waggle of his eyebrows before disappearing.
Braelyn didn't know whether to be hopeful or afraid.
Boxer Dolarsine thanked the Light that the sin'dorei were blessed with a leader as level-headed and calm as Lor'themar Theron. The goblin ambassador and the Regent Lord were the only two people capable of talking Grand Magister out of his 'plan' to get Braelyn back.
Rommath was convinced that King Varian was responsible for his wife's kidnapping, and that the only way to free her was to force the King to let her go. The mage's idea of 'force'? Teleporting into Stormwind and killing every human he saw until the king capitulated, with no guarantee that the king wouldn't end up dead also.
The Grand Magister only calmed down after Lor'themar pointed out that Braelyn would not take too kindly to such a response, especially from her husband. The Regent Lord's exact words were, "There are no grounds for divorce more certain to succeed than 'genocidal rage against the wife's people on behalf of the husband'. If you want to remain married to Braelyn once you've saved her, then I suggest you calm down and let me do my job."
Rommath didn't calm down, but he allowed Lor'themar to handle the situation. He stalked out of the Spire, heading for his house in the hope that he might find some peace in the memories of his wife.
"I have never seen Rommath so angry before," Halduron said, for once unable to even attempt a joke. The Ranger General looked troubled, well aware of how tense things now were. It was bad enough Braelyn was missing, but the situation was fast turning into a diplomatic nightmare.
"Neither have I, old friend," Lor'themar said with a weary sigh, "but you know how much he adores Braelyn. If anything has happened to her, he will be unstoppable."
The Regent Lord called for his chief steward, asking for some parchment, ink, and a quill. "I better write to Wrynn personally. Meanwhile, I suggest you and Boxer go pray that I can resolve this issue before Rommath does something stupid."
Ansara Belodiere smiled as she finished translating another row of ancient Highborne text. It was slow going, and every sentence she got through felt like a major accompishment for the young Kirin Tor scholar. She was part of a small group of scholar mages studying the many beautiful ruins littering Ashenvale. It was a fascinating experience.
She took a moment to appreciate her beautiful surroundings, but frowned when she noticed that the sun was close to setting. She'd let time slip away from her again. Hurrying to collect her parchment and charcoal, as well as the books she'd left scattered around, Ansara froze when she heard movement nearby.
"Hello?" she called. "Is that you, Solarin? I'm sorry I'm running late again." She looked around, but could see no one. She must have been imagining things, or perhaps one of the forest creatures was close by. Because of the destruction caused by Garrosh's orcs in the regions, it was not uncommon to see wild animals venturing into camps looking for food or shelter.
Ansara was still nervous, though; nervous enough to start heading back to the camp at a faster pace than she'd normally walk. She was relieved when the pretty little copse of trees the Kirin Tor were camping in came into view, the woods acting as both security and shelter.
"Solarin!" Ansara called out as the tents came into view, but something about what she was seeing caused her to stop suddenly. Something was wrong. It was too quiet; not even the birds were singing, and there were no mages engaged in heated arcane-related debates as they sat around the campfire like there usually was.
Ansara's eyes widened as her gaze landed on her and Solarin's tent. A long, sinister spray of blue blood coated one side. The mage started to hyperventilate as her eyes moved, involuntarily, to the left. A harsh cry tore from her throat as she saw one of her friends pinned to the trunk of a tree by a shard of ice.
"Nevarran!" Ansara cried as she rushed to the Draenei's side. She felt for a pulse, but could feel nothing but the chill of death upon the man's skin. She sobbed quietly, muttering a quick prayer for her friend's soul, before turning to look for the rest of her colleagues... and her husband.
Ansara's mentor, Arabella, was hanging from the same tree Nevarran was pinned to, her hands tied behind her back, and her face locked in an expression of pain and fear. Their night elf guide, who wasn't even a member of the Kirin Tor, was lying near the fire. Severen looked as if he had been mauled to death by his own pet, a nightsabre that was now laying dead by his master's side, fur still smoking from what could have been a fire bolt.
Dazzle, the youngest member of their group, was curled up as if asleep at the front of his tent. The gnome had no marks of violence upon him, but the stiffness of his body made it plain that he was dead.
Solarin, Ansara's high elf husband, was no where to be seen. She didn't know whether she was relieved or terrified by that. Was he still out exploring the second set of ruins, or was his body hidden somewhere, out of her sight?
"Solarin!" Ansara screamed. "Solarin!" She began to run around in her panic, only stopping when arms grabbed her roughly around the waist and neck. She let out a muffled shout as a sharp, burning pain pierced her shoulderblades. Blood began running down her back, soaking into her rich runecloth robes.
The grip around her waist loosened, and Ansara staggered forward, turning to face her assailant. A tall, slender Sin'dorei stood before her, clad in a Sunreaver tabard, with an elegant elven dagger clutched in one hand.
"W... why?" Ansara said, coughing as pain bloomed across her chest. She fell forward, grabbing the man by his tabard, and trying to summon an arcane blast. He grabbed her wrists, dropping the dagger as he did so.
"Ah ah ah!" he chided softly. "You need to save your energy. You need to stay alive to tell Lady Proudmoore who it was that attacked you."
Ansara looked at the blood elf in confusion. She heard movement around her, and realised that the man's companions were surrounding her. She did not look at them, her eyes focused solely on the elf in front of her. He looked so familiar to her, but that didn't make any sense. Ansara had never met any of the Sunreavers when they'd been a part of the Kirin Tor.
But she knew him. She'd bet her life on it.
She swayed and let out a pained huff of air, digging her fingers into the Sin'dorei's chest. She opened her mouth to say something, but stopped when her attacker's green eyes began to flicker. They rapidly changed colour, switching from the green of the blood elves' to the bright blue of the high elves. After a few seconds, they stayed blue.
A high elf! Ansara thought. Why would a high elf be attacking the Kirin Tor?
Ansara tightened her grip, intending to pull herself upright, but her legs gave way, weak from blood loss. As she collapsed to the ground, the man's tabard tore. When Ansara hit the ground, her eyes closing as she slipped into unconsciousness, the symbol of the Sunreavers was still clutched tightly in her hand.
Braelyn had to wait two days before Jack returned, positive that he had done a runner and abandoned her yet again. She was still sick, still tired, still worried out of her mind, still homesick, still missing Rommath.
It was only the faint hope that Jack might actually return and help that kept Braelyn going.
"Whoah, love, you look like shit," the rogue said as he woke Braelyn just after midnight.
"I feel it, too," she replied, punching Jack in the chest as hard as she could when the man's hands traveled places they had no right to as he helped her out of bed. "What's the plan?"
"You follow me. I take you to a mage friend. Friend portals you to Stormwind. Simple."
"Sounds too easy," Braelyn said, unable to believe that something that simple could actually work.
"Well, I suppose we could draw some aggro on the way out," Jack suggested with a playful grin, dodging another of Braelyn's punches.
Braelyn noticed how cold it was and frowned. She didn't have any armour to wear, only thin linen pants and a woolen shirt. She'd freeze to death before they got very far.
"Jack, it's too cold for me to go out dressed like this," she said.
"Not to worry, love, I brought you some things," Jack replied, handing over a small bag. Inside, Braelyn found clean woolen pants and a matching shirt, thick socks, and a warm winter cloak.
She put them on quickly, not even stopping to throw something at Jack when she noticed him watching her change. "Let's go," she said, moving to the door.
"Have you learned camouflage yet?" Jack asked, referring to the closest thing a hunter could do to stealthing. He smiled when Braelyn nodded. "Excellent. When we get outside this door, camo immediately, and then follow me as closely as we can. If we get separated, head for where the docks used to be."
"Ah," Braelyn said, confused, "you're acting like I know where I am, that'll I'll know where these docks were."
"You should do," Jack replied. "You'll understand when we get outside," he added, seeing Braelyn's doubtful look.
He opened the door and walked out. A second later there was a muffled curse and a thumping sound as Braelyn's jailor was knocked out. Jack dragged the woman's body into the room, and dumped it onto the bed. He swiftly secured her to the bed, gagging her with Braelyn's old shirt.
"Ready?" Jack asked. Braelyn nodded, and disappeared from sight as she camouflaged herself. "Quick and quiet, if you please, love."
It turns out Braelyn was being kept in a house, a rather large and beautiful one, human in style, but devoid of much in the way of decoration, or even practicality. It didn't appear as if the place was meant to be occupied.
They had to stop many times; Jack was popular with the Defias members present in the building, and nearly all of them wanted to chat with him about something. After listening to some of the discussions, Braelyn decided that as soon as she got home, she was going to write to her parents and tell them to get new locks, and perhaps build a moat. Preferably one stocked with basilisks.
When they did make it outside, Braelyn understood exactly what Jack had been telling her. She knew this place, she'd been here many times before.
She was in Theramore.
After the ceasefire, Thrall had returned the desolate ruins to Jaina Proudmoore in an attempt to pacify the woman's rage towards the Horde. Jaina had taken her city back, but had not changed her attitude towards her enemies in the slightest. In the past year some minor work had been done to clear the rubble, and prepare the city for rebuilding, but it was not Lady Proudmoore's priority.
As a result, the ruined city was the perfect location for the Defias Brotherhood to hide their captive. They had permission to be there, and if Varian had ever asked for Theramore to be searched, Jaina could easily step in and handle it.
If it weren't for the fact that she was surrounded by Defias rogues, Braelyn would have sworn out loud. Proudmoore and Windrunner had some nerve.
Then house Braelyn had been imprisoned in was on the edge of the city, reasonably close to the remains of Theramore's once bustling docks. She was glad of this fact, because camouflage was not as effective as the stealth used by rogues, and it was also difficult for her to maintain when she was feeling so exhausted.
The night was clear and calm, and a full moon illuminated the broken and burnt out skeletons of the city. It was eerie; Braelyn had never seen the city after its destruction at the hands of Garrosh's Horde. The last time she'd seen Theramore, it had been a vibrant trading hub, full of life and adventure.
Braelyn was surprised by how easy it had been for her to get to the docks. She hadn't even lost sight of Jack, staying within touching distance of the rogue the entire journey. Hopefully, the rest of her escape go just as smoothly. The last time she'd tried to escape a hostage situation, she'd wound up getting pulverized by an abomination. She still had nightmares about it, and Rommath grew pale anytime she mentioned it.
Jack headed toward the lighthouse, stopping when he reached a small cove. It was out of sight of the city, so Braelyn was able to drop out of stealth mode. The wind off the ocean was bitter, cutting right to the bone. She shivered and wrapped her cloak around her.
"I can warm you up, love," Jack said, offering her his flask. From memory, it would contain something revolting, like orcish rotgut, so she declined with a shake of her head.
"I don't think I could keep it down," she said, "and I'd hate to waste such fine liquor."
Jack laughed. "More for me then." He took a long swig, letting out an exaggerated sigh of happiness. Braelyn couldn't help but let out a faint chuckle.
"Just like old times, love!"
"Is that your way of saying that SI: 7 are about to arrive and arrest me again?"
"Are you ever going to forgive me for that?" Jack asked, shooting her a sad puppy face.
"On my death-bed. Maybe. If you're fortunate," Braelyn replied dryly. "Now, what's next, Jack?"
"He'll be hear soon enough," Jack said. "My buddy's a mage, he's going to open a portal to Stormwind for you, and a second portal somewhere else for me."
"Will you be all right?" Braelyn asked.
"Aww, concerned for me, love?" Jack asked. "I knew you still cared. You could always come with me, you know."
"I no longer wish for your death, Jack," Braelyn said firmly, "but that does not mean I've gone insane." From the way Jack laughed, she could tell that Jack was not serious about his offer. She doubted he was ever serious about anything.
Braelyn and Jack both tensed as they heard footsteps crunching on the sand. Jack had given Braelyn one of the daggers he'd stolen from the female rogue he'd tied to the bed earlier. She gripped it tightly now, holding it in front of her.
She relaxed a bit when Jack sheathed his own weapons and stepped forward to shake hands with the young male mage that appeared around the corner. Braelyn thought the man looked a little too young to be skilled in portal creation, but was desperate enough to try anything.
"Thank you for helping me," she said to the mage. He looked at her, and nodded his head curtly. He said nothing, not even reaching out to shake the hand Braelyn offered him. She frowned when she noticed the dislike in his eyes.
This man does not like me, Braelyn thought. She looked at Jack inquisitively, but the rogue just shook his head and shrugged.
"I'll open her portal first," the mage said, and his voice was full of contempt. Braelyn wondered if he was one of the people who considered her a traitor for marrying Rommath, or if he was angry at being forced by Jack into helping them. Maybe he was just an arsehole. Heaven knows there were plenty of them adventuring around Azeroth.
The portal opened in front of them, and Braelyn was relieved to see Stormwind shimmering in front of her. She looked at Jack. "Thanks for doing the right thing this time," she said.
"For you, love, anytime!" Jack replied with another of his charming grins. He took hold of both Braelyn's hands and kissed them. "Let me know if you get bored with the hubby."
The mage snorted, confirming her suspicion that he thought she was a traitor. Braelyn smiled sweetly at him, laughing internally at the man's confusion. "Thank you for the portal, sir," she said, bowing to him.
"I'd say to keep out of mischief," Braeyn told Jack, "but I think we both know how unlikely that is. Goodbye, Jack." With a half-smile to her ex-boyfriend, who gave her a jaunty wave in return, Braelyn stepped through the portal, and into the Mage's Tower of Stormwind.
She was half way to the Keep before she realised that Jack had stolen her wedding and engagement rings.
"Gods damn him!"
AN - so the prepatch dropped yesterday. I lost serpent sting, and it has buggered my rotation right up. That, combined with me deciding that it was a good idea to finally rearrange my ui, means that I'm currently running around full of derp. My health also dropped from over 600k to 88.5k. I attempted to kill a couple of the Pandaren elite mobs last night and got owned. I haven't died that quick in a long time. My poor ego was bruised. I'm abit sad that belfs have to wait until the game releases to get the new models, but it's nice to see the other races now. We have cheekbones! And clearly defined noses! And fingers! Also, so much butthurt on the forums. It's only been two days, people!
That Jack. Always going to be a jerk.
Next chapter: Braelyn hurries to find the King so she can avert the war and be reunited with Rommath, but where is Varian?