The Romancer Shadowstep

Episode Twenty-One: Two new Deputies

"I'm going to take your pointy blue ears, and rip 'em off! I need to go to Sen'jin Village!" she threatened in Orcish.

Pasha was enraged when Shia'jin dragged her spike-collared swift brown wolf across the road to Orgrimmar by the reigns. His orange raptor mount shrieked displeasure at having to tow yet another set of creatures. I mean, what did he look like, a kodo? The elves didn't notice, because they were too focused on riding fast through Durotar to reach the safety of the expansive Barrens.

"No, cause den you gonna' tell everyone we here. I know you too well. If you hobble, you can't get away while I help da Night Elves."

Faltheriel brought up the rear on a fussy blue hawkstrider. "You know, Pasha, there is something very appealing about kidnapping, putting a woman in bonds–"

"Shut it Brokebutt!" Pasha whipped around and almost knocked Faltheriel in the head with the butt of her Dwarven Hand Cannon.

"Yes Ma'am."

They crossed the Southfury River, annoyed some Orgrimmar grunts guarding that outpost who, for some reason, huffed and puffed after the Night Elves on foot despite the kennel packed with wolf mounts nearby. They gave up three fourths of the way up the steep road that opened into the Barrens.

An Orc grunt spied Shia'jin, Pasha, and Faltheriel who passed by last.

"You," he huffed, "go get 'em... good job, soldiers."

Shia'jin and Faltheriel instantly saluted, and speeded away while Pasha yelled,

"Help! I'm being kidnapped by Elves..."

But the grunts were already jogging back down the road.

Shadowstep called for Faltheriel to get up front and lead. The once Master Rogue was in alien country now. Five nightsabers of assorted colors, Alessandre's being the largest and most conspicuous in its ancient green Cenarion armor, a fierce orange war raptor wearing a sleek black feathered headdress and armor, and a savage looking wolf mount with glowing yellow eyes and spiked collar followed an excited chirping fluffy blue hawkstrider. Faltheriel's mount nearly danced and skipped along. Everyone, both Alliance and Horde groaned at the embarrassment.

"Aha! We've come to the secret outpost of the Burning Legion." They emerged from a desolate dry grassland swarming with zehvra, prowlers, and giraffes to stand at the base of... a mountain populated by bored plainstriders.

Shadowstep massaged the ridge of his nose. "Faltheriel, do we have to kill you again?"

"It's not what it seems... you'll see." He urged the others along.

"Um..." Shia'jin raised a hand and said, "I don't tink I can keep ma sista' quiet. You all go ahead, I'll wait here wit her till you get back."

"Now, that is the best idea that any of you whelps has had since I met you. Yes, let's leave some people behind." Shadowstep sighed, and they followed Faltheriel up an abandoned mountain trail. Shia'jin watched his family members climb until their mounts were like dots on the precipice, then settled his sister and himself down under a shade tree.

"If I could stand to get far enough away, and into range and shoot you..." Pasha grumbled.

"Aw, wouldn't be da first time."

Baby the pig started squealing something too... maybe he thought people could actually understand him because he regularly contributed to conversations when there was a pause or break of some kind. Pasha reached over and gave him a good scratch behind the ear, fussed over his red armor.

"He joined another raiding guild." Pasha said.

"Huh? Who we talkin' bout?"

"Flathoof! Who else!" Pasha scratched her head. "He left a note on the message board saying something about how he'd miss us all, but he wanted to explore other options, yadda yadda yadda... But it isn't that, Shia'jin." she growled. "It's all your fault. And he didn't even say goodbye to me. We dated for months."

"I'm sorry."

Pasha suddenly lost her temper and leapt onto her brother, despite her bum ankle.

"Aaah! Please, no!"

"I'm gonna' kill you! He was the best thing that ever happened to me... He was helping me to finish my epic bow quest, and I still don't have it... a fellow hunter! And he was handsome and successful! In full Dragonstalkers armor before the Burning Crusade started! Gaaaah!"

Shia'jin squirmed away just enough to hit his little sister with a frost shock. Then he really got far from her. Baby the pig trotted after the Troll, brandishing his tusks.

"Men like that don't just fall off trees!" Pasha shouted.

"Don't I know it." Shia'jin grumbled to himself. "Look, I'm sorry... I wish I told ya before," Pasha was now crawling on her hands and knees to get to him, so he hit her with another frost shock spell. She cringed but kept coming. "But den I would have to tell you dat... dat I'm gay." he winced and put up an earthbind totem. Pasha snarled and sliced it in half with her axe. "Uh... and if I did that, den the whole family would know, and I be mincemeat."

"Pah! You just wanted him all to yourself." Baby began to help drag Pasha along, tugging on her leather armor. "And what good did it do you? He left you anyway!"

Shia'jin squatted about a yard away, in the road. He scratched the back of his neck. "He left me for da same reason you want to kill me now, sis." he fumbled with his hands. "I not tell anyone dat I like men... so I embarrassed both of us. He hate me now."

Pasha had finally exhausted herself. She lay in the grass on her stomach, and swatted Baby away when he kept pulling at her.

"So... that's what happened?" she frowned. "I thought maybe... I wasn't Orc enough for him?"

Shia'jin didn't have time to ask what in the world she meant. The pebbles in the road started to clatter. The ground shook. A mean-looking Orc rogue in black armor came galloping toward them on a white frostwolf. Its eyes glowed a purple haze under silver metal armor and spiked collar. When he saw Shia'jin in the road, he slowed his wolf mount to a walk.

"You there! Are you Shia'jin of Sen'jin Village?"

Shia'jin crawled backwards a few paces then, sputtered, "Ya mon... dat be me. Why?"

"I am a deputy of the Shattered Hand. By order of the great Warchief, you are under arrest for crimes against the Horde. Aiding and abetting a raid on Undercity, before that smuggling Night Elves into Grom'gol Base camp and then on a Zepplin to Orgrimmar..."

"Wait a minute! Horde do dat all da time... I not get in trouble!"

The Orc rogue glared at him from underneath a hooded black mask that covered everything but his eyes. "We're cracking down. And it seems you know a whole ring of people..."

"No, stop! I'm the one who needs help, I've been kidnapped!" Pasha shouted.

The Orc on the frostwolf was startled. He hadn't even seen her. But when he did...

He whipped off his menacing rogue's mask. "Fearsome wench, I am called Knifedance." He was handsome for an Orc. He had neat short clipped hair and a finely trimmed goatee. The fangs that protruded from the edges of his mouth actually improved a charming smile that also had a way of making you shiver. "By the gods, the spirits, and all the elements, I swear in blood that you are the most terrifying warrior woman I've ever seen."

Pasha flashed a look at Shia'jin who shrugged.

"I'm a hunter, bucko. And do you know what I do to people who–"

"You... aren't a warrior? By your savage mien, the look of murder in your eye... I would have assumed... a deadly woman you must surely be!"

Pasha squinted an eye. "Are you... hitting on me, or what?"

Shia'jin sat up, finally understanding. "Pasha! He's roleplaying. Be careful!"

"Why? I kinda like it." she smiled up at the rogue. "Wait... I thought Arpeers were weird?" she asked Knifedance. "You aren't so bad."

Knifedance leaned over on his knee, looked her dead in the eye. "I would slay a thousand Alliance for you, on every battleground in Azeroth and beyond... if you would just," he whispered softly into her ear, "Come away with me."

Pasha leaned up on her elbows. "Woah."

"Dis is getting creepy mon!"

"What'd he say to me? I think it was something about starting a war over me or something?"

"Not quite, you entrancing war maiden, my beautiful thunder of the gods..." he answered Pasha. "But perhaps I can help you, it seems you have never done battle with powerful words before? Would you like to come with me, for a ride on my white wolf, or no?"

Pasha found herself smiling. "Well... I am sort of kidnapped right now. I have to go home, to Sen'jin Village."

"No! Pasha, shh!"

"Quiet, you faceless Peon!" Knifedance cursed Shia'jin over his shoulder. "That sounds like a yes to me. But I'll need more." he lovingly took her hand. "Tell me, when you look at me, what do you see, savage wench? What do you feel? How would you compare it? Speak to me in tongues."

Pasha swallowed nervously. "Umm... uh... well..." suddenly her eyes sparked with understanding. "When I look at you, Knifedance, I know that it is a good day to die."

Knifedance gasped.

Pasha went on, "I would make war by your side, till we were both covered in battle-scars. You will shed the blood with your knives, and I will crack the thunder over their heads with my boomstick. Let's not waste any time, Knifedance!"

"Oh, you are a natural, Orc woman. I say, slay them all!" he responded and swept Pasha up off the ground. Then he helped her into the saddle.

"Hey mon! Where you goin' with my sista!" Shia'jin shouted as they rode off together. But neither of them looked back.

"Awww... NOOO! My sista's become a roleplayer! Mom and dad gonna kill me!"

Later on the summit of Dreadmist Peak...

The happy blue sky was shrouded by a thick red mist. But for some reason... the Plainstriders kept strolling around as if there was nothing evil on the mountain top.

Faltheriel shushed the family squabble that managed to bubble up on the ride over.

"Now, listen here." he raised his hands with caution. "As of right now, you are all members of the Burning Legion."

"WHAT!" Shadowstep flared.

"Shh! We did it your way when we went into the Undercity. This is our version of Undercity as far as the Barrens is concerned. A secret meeting place that few people know about. They call themselves the Burning Blade, and may have some loose affiliation with the Shadow Council... but really it's all connected. There was a corporate merger a while back... you know how office politics are."

The Night Elves just stared at him.

Faltheriel cleared his throat. "Well, anyways, as I was saying... all you need to do is agree with everything that I say and follow my lead. And here, put this on as a disguise."

He reached into his cloak and handed them a pocket-sized black bottle of something.

Shadowstep snatched it up before anyone else could and inspected it. "Oil of... Villainy?" he read. "What in the hell–"

"It's that lotion I was telling Shia'jin about. It will cause all you to give off an evil fel aura, so that you fit in. Cute isn't it? I was tempted to get the cotton blossom scent, but it just wasn't evil enough, you know?"

"We are not wearing this!" Shadowstep objected.

Opalbane had somehow got the bottle away from him and was already rubbing some on. They looked at her, shocked.

"What? So, I guess I still have some cultist tendencies... it's not bad, actually." then she smelled her hands and sighed happily. "Oh, how I've missed the smell of brimstone...Mmmmmm"

Faltheriel smiled. "You know, the Burning Legion is a lot like a cult, Bloodthistle. We could sure use a capable shadowpriestess..."

"NO!"All of Opalbane's relatives shouted at once.

Faltheriel put his Demon Ranger armor back on, and it suddenly became obvious who appreciated the look back near the Undercity. As they walked through the Burning Blade camp, Opalbane drifted ever so closer to him with every step... Alessandre flushed with jealousy and grabbed his wife's hand.

Thankfully, Faltheriel hadn't noticed. "Hey there, Sally, how's the family?" A very ugly Orc woman who snarled at everyone cheered on seeing the Blood Elf and waved back. The Night Elves remembered their instructions and waved too. Her suspicious glare faded.

Then, to a male Orc who grunted and wandered around holding a torch in the center of the spooky camp: "Hey, Bloodvenomeister... I see you got that raise... a torch-bearer, nice!" he gave the Orc a high five. The Night Elves crowded in and each gave the man high-fives in turn.

Finally, they made their way over to what looked to be the center of operations, a cave guarded by Orcs.

"Hey there, Gary." Faltheriel said to one of them standing near the dark entrance of the cave. "That Demon Seed isn't destroyed again, is it? Gotta call the old boss-man, and check in. You know how it is..."

"Wow. They're sooo organized..." Opalbane confided in her husband. Alessandre glared down at her.

Gary looked over Faltheriel's shoulder. "I don't know..." He scrutinized the Night Elves and everyone held their breaths. "She's been acting up lately, don't think it can handle a conference call. I tried to get IT over and fix it but those damn Imp Technicians... never reliable."

Faltheriel winked at his new family members and gave them a thumbs-up. "Oh, that's fine. I'm the only one who needs to do the talking, if it becomes a problem."

On an altar just inside the small cave, among melted candles, a pile of ruined skulls and other creepy offerings, hovered a shard of red crystal. The Demon Seed.

Faltheriel pulled out his strange blue glowing chalk and drew some lines underneath it. Then he waited. Nothing happened.

Gary poked his head in. "Ya gotta... you know, jiggle it." Faltheriel and Gary did an annoying back and forth for a few minutes while the Blood Elf nudged the floating stone and Gary insisted he wasn't doing it in just the right way.

Finally, Shadowstep had enough. He drew a glittering gold Grand Marshall's sword and smacked the thing. Faltheriel gave him a dirty look, but then it started working.

"Hello? Hello?" a voice came from through the crystal. "Been trying to connect for a while... is anyone there? I think the problem's on your end. I don't have any visual."

To their horror, the red crystal projected an image of a mean looking Dreadlord. Priestess Feathershine screamed.

Faltheriel gave her a warning look.

"Well, well, well... now I can see you. And I can also see what the problem is. Faltheriel, did you know we thought you'd died? And it's a good thing too, because I was just about to send a Legion Ranger after you, after that mess you made in Stormwind."

Faltheriel flashed Alessandre an annoyed I told you so look.

"Well, um yes..." Faltheriel laughed nervously. "I did my best, but the Human authorities gave me more trouble than I thought them capable of. I had to fake my death, restart the search for Zar'teaus."

The Dreadlord idly turned a frothing cup of something on his desk around and around. "Ah, I see. So it had nothing to do with the fact that you FAILED your mission?" He yelled the last part.

"I didn't fail! Actually, as you can see, I assembled a crack team of local cultists. Remember when I reported in and said that I had to join the Twilight Cultists in Silithus, to get closer to Zar'teaus. Well..." he cleared his throat. "Here is, um, the local Coven. I initiated them into the Burning Legion for their impressive work. They helped me to apprehend him at last."

The Dreadlord threw his head back in maniacal laughter. "Good, good... I knew we could count on you, Faltheriel. Let's see him."

Faltheriel pulled a thread of dark magic out of his sleeve. It looked like a thin line, but then he turned it sideways and it was as wide as a pane of glass. Zar'teaus was pressed flat on the inside. He didn't look happy at all.

"Ahh... very good. Heh. Here there, Zar! Long time no see... They're letting me torture you this time around. I'm really looking forward to it." The Dreadlord cracked his knuckles, and Zar'teaus whimpered through the strange black glass frame. Faltheriel laughed with his boss and flipped the thing around so that it was again a thread line that he put back into his sleeve.

"It's the latest thing," he told the Night Elves. "The prison always changes shape so that Zar'teaus doesn't even know where he is or how he is long enough to consider escape." he turned back to his boss. "Um... sir, something has come up though, and I can't just port directly back. A bit of family trouble."

"Now, Faltheriel. We went over this during orientation. When you join the Legion, we become your family. Or else the company health plan won't work for you."

Opalbane spoke up. "A company wide Health Plan? You're kidding me."

"Why yes ma'am." the Dreadlord answered her. "We cover everything, even death. Got a 401K plan... four thousand and ten gold towards your epic flying mount, that is. You'd have to raise the rest, and there are company retreats all over Azeroth and beyond. At the moment, we don't have access to the across-the-nether resorts where you can practice destroying and corrupting lesser races, but we're working on the portals at the moment. That damned Illidan..." he grunted.

Opalbane grabbed Faltheriel's arm. "Please! I want to join the Burning Legion!"

Alessandre grabbed his wife and covered her mouth. Priestess Feathershine discreetly cast a Mind Soothe spell that put the woman to sleep.

"Heh heh... now that's the kind of spunk we like, Faltheriel. A little on the strange side though, to fall asleep in the middle of a sentence. Guess she's cursed or what not. Give her my card."

"Yes Sir, but about Zar'teaus–"

"Want to dispose of him yourself, do you?"

He nodded.

"Well, I don't know. It really is against policy... and we've been looking for that one for a while."

"Sir. I'm not going to dance around the truth any longer. These Night Elves are my family members."

Shadowstep began waving his hands for the Blood Elf to stop.

"Though we are very far removed, Zar'teaus has tormented them and their ancestors for countless generations. And there is also a Troll side of the family too... I am the last surviving one with the Wrath, on the Blood Elf side. I want to kill this vile creature myself with them, out of revenge!"

The Dreadlord scratched his white chin. Purple wings flexed pensively as he thought it over.

"You know... if there's one thing we can't stand in the Burning Legion, it's people like you who don't take revenge seriously, Faltheriel."

Everyone shivered.

"Why didn't you just say so from the beginning! Go ahead, enjoy your revenge. Need more sick days for it? I'll give you some of mine..."

"Oh no sir, but that's very kind of you."

"Alright then. Faltheriel Darkweaver, I hereby deputize you. Now that you're a Burning Legion Sherriff, you can do whatever you want while on Azeroth and beyond... but mind you, I'm mostly doing it because you need to kill that Zar'teaus. Not that you haven't earned it... you're very good at what you do, young man. The Burning Legion is proud to have someone like you among our ranks. It was definitely coming your way in the first place. Alright, then anything else?"

Faltheriel blushed, looked over his shoulder, and then said. "Yes... You mentioned Illidan and I've been dying to know... have you recruited Lord Illidan yet? And what of Prince Kael'thas?"

His boss sighed. A succubus walked by in the background, carrying a stack of smoking fel green demon tomes. "Now those two are as elusive as ever. Holin' up at the Black temple at the moment. But you know, we got the strangest news the other day... they've got a casino going!"

"You don't say..."

"Yes, and it's a damned good idea... wish I could go. Shame we're on different sides of the war. Our spies send word that Illidan's Demons are cleaning up over there. Lady Vashj has a regular club going in that Lagoon they have, and I almost didn't believe this last part myself: they're planning a ball. A ball! Do you know how crazy that is? Inviting nearly every boss in Outland! But it's all Kael'thas' idea, something about him taking a queen..."

Faltheriel scowled instantly. "I bet she's a slut."

Alessandre started laughing. He remembered what Faltheriel told him in Stormwind... about how the poor Blood Elf had a crush on Prince Kael'thas, who rejected him.

Shadowstep intervened then. "Can we wrap this up, please? We've got an Old God to kill, and then I need to get away from all you weirdos."

"I couldn't agree more. Enough of office gossip." The Dreadlord said. "Alright, kiddos. Have fun killing that Old God. It'll take a small army, but should be a good time. Catch ya later, Faltheriel." Then Faltheriel's boss gave him a clawed wink-and-the-gun farewell and the red projection fizzled out.

They descended the mountain, and looked for Shia'jin for a while but couldn't find him.

Faltheriel was mumbling. "Damn that Lord Illidan. 'I'm too free-willed to join the Burning Legion'" he mocked. "Not everyone can have sexy Demon horns protruding out of their skulls, and throw a ball–A ball! In Outland and not even invite me. It's not fair! I didn't want to surrender to the Shatar! I hate that Voren'thall the Seer!"

"Faltheriel! Shut up!" Shadowstep yelled. "Where is that damned Troll? We have a real problem here... I think he's going to have to be the one to fix it."

Priestess Feathershine sat down on the dried up Barrens grass with the others, under the shade tree. "Wait, Jebidiath... I don't understand. What can Shia'jin do?"

A very dejected blue Troll sauntered back into their midst, dragging along his orange war raptor.

"I lost Pasha." he said in Common.

"You did WHAT!" Shadowstep balked. "She had a bad ankle, she couldn't even walk anywhere. And you're a shaman with frost shock spells and Earthbind totems... How did she escape?"

"Dis deputy of the Shattered Hand, an Orc rogue... came... wanted to arrest me for helping Night Elves sneak on a Zepplin in Grom'gol... took her on this white wolf instead." he plopped down on the ground.

Faltheriel began to smile again. "Oh, how romantic!"

Shadowstep lowered his voice. "The Shattered Hand... knows about us?"

"Who's that?" Onyxbane rubbed his fingers over the metal skull embedded in the blade of his Arcanite Reaper.

"Like the Kaldorei Rogue Network, except for the entire Horde." Shadowstep explained. "This is very bad... so very bad. "There's only one reason for someone like that to come and bother you about helping us Shia'jin. They must have been watching us ever since Stranglethorn Vale."

"That doesn't make any sense, though Shadowstep." Alessandre said. "Why not approach us before we got on the zepplin to either Undercity or Orgrimmar. This person could have prevented our coming to Horde Lands in the first place but he chose not to. Nor did he reveal himself to Shia'jin or Faltheriel–who he could have easily assumed were Horde–and confront them? Why now, when our group finally separated?"

Shadowstep stood. "The Horde must know about Zar'teaus. This was done on purpose, to get the Troll and the Orc out of the way, before they took action against citizens of Darnassus." He eyed Faltheriel. "When that Orc rogue saw you take us up to Dreadmist Peak, he probably figured out that you weren't Horde... now we're all targets. But why not surprise us with an army? They knew we were coming, what were they waiting for?"

Alessandre insisted, "But they didn't take Shia'jin and Pasha... just Pasha. It's almost as if he were singling out–"

"He fell in love wit my sista. I tink dat's why he forgot about arresting me. For now..." Shia'jin frowned.

Onyxbane scratched his head. "Alright, I don't know anything about the Orcs falling in love part, but the rest is starting to connect with something I've seen before... There was this Orc rogue in Silithus, when I went ahead of Feathershine and everyone else to rescue Opalbane a few months back." Onyxbane looked up. "Shadowstep, that Orc was there with your contacts who were watching my sister. I told him and the Human rogues all about our family background, in exchange for information on where to find Opalbane. Maybe it's a long shot, but... if this is an Orc rogue who understands our conversations in Common... who knew where to find us in Stranglethorn Vale when we ported there with Faltheriel's help... he knows that you are the Master Rogue of Darnassus." Onyxbane pointed to his mother next. "And that you are a Priestess of Elune... and that you all have friends in very high places."

"It's got international incident written all over it." Alessandre covered his mouth, thinking of the implications.

Shadowstep paced in a circle. "This is very, very bad. For now at least, thanks to your sister, that Shattered Hand deputy is distracted. Maybe that will buy us some time." He scratched his violet jaw. "We need to get out of Horde lands and fast... but Zar'teaus has to die first, or else it'll never get done. Shia'jin, I was hoping you would help with that... I know a little something about raiding guilds, but you're going to have to fill me in. Do they have the manpower to say, oh I don't know... kill an Old God?"

Shia'jin shrugged. "We go into Molten Core and kill Ragnaros lots of times before the Burning Crusade. Ragnaros be like an Old God, he kept resurrecting himself though, it was annoying. But dat take lots of coordination. Forty man raid, like a small army. Nobody do dat anymore... all da dungeons in Outland be far less complicated, only take ten good raiders, tops."

Feathershine caught onto what Shadowstep was saying. "But... is there any way at all that your guild might be convinced to pull together and help us? They sound very organized... and right now, I'm afraid that we don't have any other options. We don't have time," she glanced at Shadowstep, "Nor are we at liberty to ask for reinforcements from Darnassus. As you may have already guessed from what my son, son-in-law, and... boyfriend have been saying, we're in a great deal of trouble with very important Alliance people as it is. Going as far up as High Priestess Tyrande." she winced. "They can't know what we're doing out here."

"I don't know... maybe I can convince Guild Master Ninthius," he lost heart, "but I can't face dem again, not after Flathoof."

Faltheriel went and sat beside Shia'jin. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Brother, you knew that this day was coming. You can't live your life in the darkness any longer. Your refusing to come out of the closet could cost lives. We need you, to finally be honest with yourself and everyone else."

Shia'jin rubbed his hands nervously. "Alright... everyone, I'm gay."

The Night Elves just stared. "We knew that," Opalbane responded groggily. "Besides, we're Night Elves. Lots of people in the Alliance are always accusing our men of the same. Most of the time, they're probably right." she shrugged.

Faltheriel patted Shia'jin on the back. "You see? It could go very well. I'll go with you right now to Orgrimmar before that Orc deputy comes back, and talk to this Guild Master Ninthius. We will explain everything to him together. Now, what's the name of this raiding guild of yours? Maybe I've heard of it..."

"Midnight's Gap."

"That's the dumbest guild name I ever heard..." Shadowstep started complaining.

"Hey, lay off mon! We wanted Twilight's Void but it was already taken. Can't have everything you want in life. Geez."

Faltheriel summoned his hawkstrider and they mounted up. "We're going for reinforcements." he told them. "And to get Shia'jin out of the closet."

"Yes, we know." Shadowstep waved a hand at them dismissively. "Enough of a dramatic exit, just go away."

Faltheriel and Shia'jin rode off into the Barrens sunset, kicking up clouds of golden dust behind them.

"Look mon... thank you so much for helping me, ever since Stranglethorn Vale. I'm scared though." he told the Blood Elf from high up on his raptor.

"Don't worry, brother of mine. We'll get through this together."

"Maybe, if tings go well... I can fix your teeth for you, as a thank you?"

Faltheriel wheeled his bird mount around. They stopped. "You... can fix my teeth? You'd do that for me?"

Shia'jin shrugged. "Ya mon, you don't have big tusks like mine all your life and not learn how to fix 'em after slamming dem in doors and such. You still got dem teeth Alessandre knocked out of your mouth?"

Faltheriel pulled on a gold chain around his neck. There they were.

"Good. Now dat we brothas, I'm not afraid to reach in your mouth. I fix em for you."

They rode on in silence for a while.

"Why were you afraid to work on my teeth before, Shia'jin?"

Shia'jin looked away. "Cause... I didn't trust myself... not to get too carried away. Don't look at me like that, you know you're good-looking, everyone does!" he grunted.

Faltheriel smiled to himself. "You know, Shia'jin, there's something very appealing about you, riding high up there on your war raptor..."

"Mon! For da last time! INCEST!"

Faltheriel smirked, "What if I told you... that I know I'm not related to you, or any of the others. I could read Shadowstep's mind right away back when we were in Silverpine Forest. But at the same time, I also saw how much he cared for Feathershine, and worried about Alessandre and the rest. That was when I understood how loving that family truly was. I wanted to belong somewhere at last, and I really wanted to help them... without going against my duties as a Burning Legion officer. I sort of... adopted all those romancers. Don't tell them I said that, though."

"And when we start datin' and holdin' hands and all that, you don't think they gonna' get wise?"

Faltheriel smiled even wider. "So nice to know, Shia'jin, that you're interested."

They passed the rest of the ride to Orgrimmar in contented, and slightly disturbed silence.

Author's Note:

Yes, I know, shameless plug for the next chapter of My Life for My Prince. But, honestly, I'm so excited about the Ball at the Black Temple. Should be a fun write. By the way, I don't see these two fanfictions as having anything to do with each other. That was just for fun, because Faltheriel needed some annoying office gossip for Shadowstep to interrupt. Happy reading!