The following warrants the rating M for its mature content, namely of a sexual nature. If you are offended by such prose, then it would be advisable to move past this chapter.
Chapter 13 – Traces of Gul'dan
The veil of night's embrace slipped slowly over the horizon and a new day was born. Warm golden rays of the sun spread over the sleeping city of Stormwind, her flora and fauna being the first to answer the early morning call.
Some of the residents started to stir. At first subtle murmurs were heard on the streets of Stormwind. Civilians had begun cleaning up the remnants of the previous night's festivities. That included one or two inebriated bodies curled up in shop doorways and along alleys. The woozy party-goers once roused from their stone bunks, staggered their way along the streets. Some made their way home singing enjoying another slug of whatever liquid refreshment they had managed to covet during the night. Others, looking a little green around the gills, shuffled along in silence feeling worse with every step. The odd chorus about a boy named "Ralph" or "Hewie" was sung into the canals and offered a somewhat varied breakfast for the fish, gulls and rodents.
Those who had businesses to run went about their duties with the same diligent constancy as they did any other day. Before long, the coastal city was once more preparing for the exchange and commerce which would pass through its gates or arrive by ship. Stalls, shops, banks and auction houses all readied for the start of another busy day of trading.
The Keep was no different from the rest of the city in as much as staff had already been up and busying themselves from early in the morning . Theirs was the task of cleaning and tidying nearly every room in the royal residence.
Sarah listened to the distant sounds of industrious servants as miniscule dust particles floated on the sun's rays which reached into her bed chamber through the open window. A soft breeze rippled the delicate voiles opening the way for the particles to be buffeted and thrown into a swirling dance. She watched their ballet and sighed softly. The rays caressed the walls and floor and crept up to greet her as she lay on her side, propped on her elbow.
Her gaze turned to the sleeping figure beside her. For a long while she simply watched his chest as it rose and fell in perfect peace. She marvelled at the gentleness of his features as he slumbered. Removed from the daily concerns and responsibilities of being Archmage, his face had a very youthful glow, all lines of worry and hard work banished. His hair, in the now customary tousled style, seemed to have regained some of its long lost vitality. She smiled. Perhaps it was due to all the blissful intimacy of last night.
While at the banquet, during the demon hunters' departure, she had found Rowena and asked her to have the bathtub in her chamber filled with hot water and some aromatic oils. A large platter of food was also required. The maid followed Sarah's gaze as she voiced her request, and smiled secretly to herself. She nodded then disappeared to rally some servants to help.
Sarah's focus honed in on the Archmage. He stood at the far side of the main table, looking somewhat in a dither. Sarah smiled. Ocel's earlier conversation about Khadgar being beffudled came to mind. It was time to leave the festivities. She was going to ensure Khadgar was well looked after and ease his troubled mind.
As she'd approached him, she'd noticed the tightness in his jaw, the twitch at the corners of his mouth. His eyes instantly darkened with desire as he caught sight of her. She reached out and took his hand. Silently, she led him through the Garden of Contemplation, along past the library and into the corridor where her chamber was located.
Having emptied the hot contents of the buckets into the waiting tub, Rowena was ushering the last of the serving girls from the room as Sarah and Khadgar arrived. The girl was heard giggling as she ran along the corridor with her co-workers. Sarah couldn't suppress a smile.
With a soft click, she locked the door. Khadgar had remained silent, his breathing deep. The effort to appear calm faltered as she neared. She gently took his staff and placed it to one side. Glancing up into his steel eyes she unfastened his armoured collar guard. It was heavier than she thought and awkwardly, she nearly dropped it. He was quick to come to her aid. They shared a small ripple of laughter before he took it from her hands and laid it down on a nearby chair.
Once more standing in front of her, his eyes followed her expert fingers as she unfastened his belt, then his robe. Resting her hands on his chest, she paused a moment, swallowing quietly before sliding the garment from him. He stepped out of his britches, casting them to the floor. Almost coyly, she interlocked her fingers with his and led him to the waiting bath.
As he reclined, arms resting on the edges of the tub, Sarah noted the extra candles on the floor around the sides and base. Seemed Rowena had known romance was in Sarah's mind.
She kneeled behind him and with the soft cloth tenderly started to bathe his battle-weary body. His shoulders were broad, powerful, but the muscles were taut from his hectic time in the Broken Isles. She massaged them working the knots from his tired shoulders and neck. He responded with a low moan. "That feels good," he murmured.
She smiled and whispered for him to relax. While she continued the massage, she studied his arms, relishing their strength, their form, the way the light from the candles reflected in the water trickling over them. She wrung the cloth over his shoulders again, allowing more rivulets of warm, scented water to trace down the planes of his chest. Silently, she watched their path, admiring the broad pectorals and ribbed abdomen; her own body now responding to the sight and touch of his skin. Her breathing slowed, became heavy.
He relinquished his tired, aching body to the warm water and fragrant oils. Still she kept her silence and moved round to his side. Taking a small pitcher she slowly poured some water over his hair, running her fingers through it, soothing his scalp. Meticulous in her care for him, she dabbed his face and smoothed his forehead with the cloth. She noted how he trembled at her touch. Strange how even the most powerful of men could be rendered helpless by a soft caress.
Her pupils aflame, she once more drank in the sight of his torso. Her fingers now worked their magic over his chest, caressing the fine hair that covered his pectorals. She traced its tapering line where it stopped at the base of his sternum. Continuing down, her fingertips touched the ribbing of his abdominals. A sigh escaped her lips. Her hand hovered.
His breath caught in his throat and with eyes lingering on her hand he trembled, anticipating her next move. Her fingers continued beneath the waterline. Their eyes locked for a moment before her sensual touch awakened his desire. He moaned as blood flowed rapidly to his lower regions. Gently she stroked him, squeezing lightly, making him harder with every feathery touch.
She ran her tongue over her lips, the gesture exciting him even more. Her touch sensual and intensely erotic made him raise his hips to meet her downward motion. Another gentle moan escaped him. His eyes closed and his head lolled back on the rest. He surrendered entirely to the feel of her hand as she gently worked him. Involuntary shudders coursing through his body.
His lips, partially open, were too much for her resist. She leaned forward and brushed her mouth against his, fingers still pleasuring him under the water. His eyes opened as she pulled away slightly. "You had better take off that gown," he whispered feverishly. "Unless you want it ruined, for I'm about to pull you in here with me."
She smiled. "Do you wish me to stop?" she asked, indicating with her eyes where her hand still worked its magic under the water.
He grinned. "Not exactly, no. But I want more, Sarah. Much more." He reached out and stroked her cheek, running his thumb down over her bottom lip, gently forcing her mouth open. Her lips closed over his thumb. He sighed. Droplets of water glistened on her skin from his touch. "I want to make love to you," he breathed.
The smallest sound of disappointment then left his mouth as she retracted her hand from the water. But his eyes were rewarded with her rising and loosening the ties of her dress. Hungrily, he watched as the fabric fell to the ground. He looked up to find her smiling coquettishly. "You will have to help me out of this contraption," she said, indicating the corset. He laughed lightly before gesturing for her to turn around. He reached up and loosened the ties.
"I see you're quite adept at that," she teased over her shoulder.
"I had a little practice in years gone by."
Her shoulders quivered from her soft laughter. She turned to face him once more and let the corset slip from her frame. Then she stepped out of the cami-knickers.
His eyes drank her in. Lips parted slightly, his gaze followed the curve of her soft, full breasts and pert nipples. Glancing down his attention rested on the sweetest place between her thighs. She stepped closer. Taking his hand she placed it over her intimate area. She sighed as his fingers teased her with the gentlest of massages.
He groaned. "Get in here. Now!" His eyes were ablaze.
Holding out his other hand to steady her, she stepped into the tub. Straddling him, she enveloped him in her embrace, her mouth a mere breath from his. With one arm round her back he kept her close while his other adjusted himself for the moment she would accept him. She rose enough to accommodate his length then she sank onto him. A deep moan shuddered from her lips, her head lolled and back arched as she felt him enter her. One hand still supporting her back, his other cupped her breast. His lips were quick to follow and gently, he suckled her hard pink bud. She rode him slowly, enraptured by his closeness, his scent, the feel of his skin. His mouth moved to her other breast, tongue flicking and teasing her nipple. Her nails dug into his shoulders, just a little, as warm exquisite sensations started to escalate deep in her lower abdomen. He held her hips, guiding her as his climax approached.
He looked up into her eyes. Sweet Elune, but she was beautiful. He watched as her lips parted and her breathing quickened. Their bodies rose and fell faster, the water lapping over the edges of the tub. The hiss of nearby candles being extinguished by a shower of droplets was lost amid the sounds of their heated ebullience.
He whispered her name. His eyes closed as the moment for his release was imminent. Lifting her hips, he brought her down harder. His sensitivity was at its peak and he could feel her pulsing below as she sheathed him.
The orgasmic shudder then hit them both simultaneously. His love exploded forth and flowed inside her. He cried out gripping her tighter. Her body responded, a deep flush indicating her climax, her corresponding cry of anguish, shuddering as it gave way to a gasp. Arms wrapped tightly round each other, they remained as one until the final throes of ecstasy started to ebb.
She looked down into his eyes. Those silver orbs were black as night, fully dilated, pleading for more. Her mouth covered his and they shared an intensely deep kiss.
She pulled back a little. She smiled mischievously. "Perhaps you should rest now," she breathed.
"Maybe," he replied, his hands caressing the soft flesh of her back. "But, after we do this a few times more." He grinned.
Her breathing now steady, her body flush having rescinded, she held his gaze. The Archmage was a playful lover it seemed and most definitely experienced, going by what they had just shared. She moved just enough to release him from within. He shuddered. "The water will get cold though," she said, rising and stepping out of the tub. She threw teasing glances over her shoulder. He quickly followed her, water dripping from his frame as he left the tub. She turned to face him and walked backwards towards the freshly turned down bed.
"Then we will have to try somewhere else," he said as he closed the gap between them. He scooped her up in his arms and laid her gently on the bed. Kneeling over her, he pinned her arms above her head. She squealed with delight.
"Why Archmage! You are a naughty boy!" Her eyes sparkled in the candlelight.
"You have done this to me," he whispered, only millimeters from her ear. "And I am so glad you did." He nuzzled her, nibbling at the soft flesh of her neck, sending shivers of wanton desire through her again.
She coiled her legs around his and flipped him over. Once more straddling him she took pleasure pinning his arms. He laughed lightly. She leaned down and kissed his brow, cheeks and down to his mouth and neck. She paused for a moment. His eyes were closed, a contented smile curving his lips. "Look at me," she whispered. "Watch me."
His eyes opened, feverish for her yet again. Her kisses travelled down, and further down still. She kept eye contact with him, then she hesitated. His breathing was deep, heavy, his body experiencing subtle quivers, as she hovered. With an utterly devilish smile, she lowered her head. He sank into the pillows and a deep moan left his mouth as she placed the most sensual of kisses below.
The Archmage did not have quite the amount of rest as he should have had that night.
Now he slumbered. Calm. Peaceful. Oblivious of the kingdom's troubles and the inevitable strife ahead. She wanted to reach out and touch him. But she resisted, allowing him a few more minutes of much deserved sleep.
Never, even in her wildest Warcraft fantasies had she ever thought she would end up falling for Khadgar. He had never captured her imagination in the game, for all he was an immensely important figure. Here however, he had become her rock, her protector, her friend and ultimately her lover.
He stirred, the morning sun just kissing his forehead and cheek. His eyes opened slowly. Looking up he smiled. After a moment he reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "Good morning," he said, his voice husky, the dregs of sleep still present.
"Indeed it is," she smiled back.
Pushing himself up, he cradled her in one arm and kissed her gently before pulling her down with him. They lay quietly, encompassed in each other's arms, listening to the distant sounds of the waking city. Blissful, didn't come close to describing how she felt at that precise moment. She knew it would be short-lived.
As if reading her thoughts, he spoke softly. "I need to leave, Sarah. There is much I have to do."
"I know," she replied. "I know. Just swear you'll be careful."
She felt the low rumble of laughter in his chest, it spread through her like a ripple on a pond. "I will. Moreso now that I have you."
An unbidden sting of tears nipped at her eyes. His words were heartfelt. No-one had said anything like that to her before.
She watched him as he dressed. There was a sense of loss building in her chest. She could not explain nor understand it, but it had her on edge. "Where are you going?"
"We must first establish where the Legion is," he said, buckling the belt of his tunic. "And then we will send them back to the hell where they came from."
A nervous laugh escaped her lips. "You make it sound so ... simple."
He stopped and looked across at her concerned face. In two strides he crossed to where she knelt on the bed. The sheet she'd clasped to her breast fell as her arms wrapped around his waist. His hands gently caressed the soft curves that had given him so much pleasure the night before. "Stay safe, Sarah. I will come back for you." Cupping her face, he leaned down and kissed her, deeply. He disentangled himself and started to the door.
"Stay clear of the fel," she said, almost choking on the words, clutching the sheet back to her chest.
"I intend to." He smiled and turned the handle and stepped out.
"Khadgar!" Her voice broke. They looked at each other, unspoken emotion swimming in their eyes. With a deep sigh, he closed the door behind him.
It was still early, but already the King and his advisors were gathering in the war room. Varian nodded welcome to Khadgar as he entered. "Sleep well?" he asked quietly of the Archmage with a knowing look.
Khadgar grinned and ran his fingers through his unruly hair. "Eventually." He replied.
Varian laughed lightly. "Good. To business then."
They studied the maps of the Eastern Kingdoms, positioning pins where reports had been coming in about demonic invasions. They ranged from neighbouring lands of Westfall to the pristine snows of Dun Murogh and the lush Hillsbrad Foothills in the north. The level of devastation to the populated areas had been brutal. The cost in life was high.
It was also reported the invasions were raging in Kalimdor in Azshara, Tanaris and Northern Barrens. The alliance forces on each continent were holding fast, but they were also suffering huge casualties. They would not be able to sustain constant attacks for much longer.
"Khadgar, did you not say something about some ancient artifacts we need to defeat the legion?" Varian asked.
"The Pillars of Creation?" He replied. "King Magni told us about them. They are believed to be somewhere on the Broken Isles. But finding them..."
"That is your task then, Khadgar." Varian looked him square in the eye. "Go speak with the demon hunters, they may be able to help."
Khadgar knew when he was dismissed. He bowed and turned to leave for the Mage Quarter.
Jarel, the innkeeper of The Slaughtered Lamb, stared angrily at the Archmage as he stepped through the door. "Never ask a favour of me again, Khadgar." He said, eyes wide. "Warlocks in the basement are bad enough, but ruddy half demon things as well? Never again!"
Khadgar smirked. "Consider it more as recompense than a favour then Jarel, for your last bumbling attempt at watching over a guest of mine." He noted the innkeeper's hands furiously wiping a glass again. No clientelle, he mused, yet they must be the cleanest glasses in Azeroth. He ascended the stairs.
There were four rooms on the upper floor, and all were occupied by the demon hunters. The doors were open so it was easy for Khadgar to locate Kayn.
"Archmage," the blood elf greeted, with a curt nod.
"Kayn. Are you all rested? Have you eaten?"
"Yes, thank you."
One of the female demon hunters watched closely from across the room. She sniffed at the air. "Kayn!" she said. "I can sense it again. It is weaker, but nonetheless it is near."
The appointed leader of the demon hunters nodded.
"She senses what, exactly?" Khadgar asked.
"Traces of Gul'dan. Fel energy."
"Here? Now? I feel nothing." Khadgar's brow creased.
"Arcaena can track the fel. Her ability is many fold more sensitive than that of a mere mage. She also sensed it last night in your King's keep."
"But - but how can that be? There are no demons in the keep, your spectral sight assured us of that."
"None we could see, but still she sensed the fel magic."
"Well, are they making more portals? What does this mean?"
"We will find out in time. But, what have you come to ask of us, Khadgar."
Arcaena's revelation had Khadgar unnerved, but he proceeded to ask them about the Pillars of Creation. Kayn had heard of them, but knew not where they were other than located somewhere in the Broken Isles.
The Archmage was torn. He had been given an order by his King to find these fragmented pillars, yet this new threat had him greatly concerned. Kayn listened and agreed that he would leave a small group of his hunters in the city while the others would escort Khadgar in his search.
As he constructed the portal to Dalaran, Khadgar looked wistfully towards the keep. He hoped, prayed she would be safe. Soulfully, he stepped into the portal, and his task began.