Sylvanas wished she could have been wrong about the Legion not letting up on their attacks. But unfortunately, her words proved to be prophetic.

Less than a minute after the wounded had been evacuated, an eredar showed up, bigger than any they had seen so far.

The eredar's name was Socrethar, and he had betrayed the Council of Exarchs by murdering several of its members before he had come out as a member of the Legion. Faith had heard about him from Yrel, with whom she'd spoken on several occasions since coming to Tanaan.

Monstrous, he towered over them all, wielding two huge fel-tipped axes, nearly decapitating one of them as he came closer and closer.

"Scared yet?" he asked, giving a dark chuckle. His voice had an inflection that almost sounded undead, yet more evil somehow. His pointed teeth gleamed in the dim green light of the hall.

Faith felt Sylvanas' hand on her shoulder. It trembled minutely.

Socrethar laughed once and raised his arms, casting a spell None of them saw coming. Fel green fire shot out from his axes, incinerating the people closest to him. Faith and Sylvanas were both blasted backwards when the spell hit a large barrier she had erected in time with several others. They fell in a heap, each trying to soften the other's landing.

"Get up, Faith, please, get up," hissed Sylvanas, pulling Faith to her feet. "Come on."

Shaken, Faith stood again, her world tilting crazily as she did so. She looked towards the eredar.

"Retreat!" called an Alliance leader, sounding aghast at what was happening in front of her.

"We have to lead him out of here, Sylvanas," hissed Faith.

The queen nodded grimly, pulling her out of the way of the retreat, as several people, Horde and Alliance alike, ran away.

"No, no, little attackers, you can't get away from me." Socrethar laughed again, and struck. A Forsaken soldier, who had stayed put because Sylvanas hadn't given an order to retreat, was shattered with one stroke, his bones turning to dust where he stood.

"Sylvanas!" cried Faith.

"Pull back!" she called. It wasn't a retreat. It wasn't.

They ran, Sylvanas and Faith making sure that the rest of their forces stayed with them and that Socrethar was following them.

He was, not stopping until he found himself in the front courtyard of the citadel. His eyes widened.

"Concentrate all of your firepower on him!" screamed Sylvanas. "Now, together!" She dove to the side, taking Faith with her.

Various tanks and siege engines had been parked in the courtyard, in preparation for the assault on the citadel, and on Sylvanas' command, they fired everything they had at Socrethar. Canon fire sounded from every direction, and as one, everyone who knew even a little magic cast their spells.

Socrethar attempted to resist the force of the combined assault. Somehow, he managed to parry some of the spells, but was ultimately worn down. He fell to one knee, his eyes disbelieving.

"He's done," said Sylvanas. "Finish this!"

It ended a short while later, as a medley of spells and arrows hit him. He gave an otherworldly cry and seemed to evaporate into thin air as his body was pulled back to the Twisting Nether.

"That looked like it hurt," commented Faith, as she and Sylvanas emerged from behind a partially collapsed wall.

"Mmm, yes, but not quite enough," said Sylvanas, briefly putting an arm around her and kissing her temple. She turned her head, "You have got to be kidding me…"

Faith felt it too, a powerful force was headed their way. The air coming from inside the citadel crackled with evil magic.

Over the past fifteen years, they had seen many things, some of them too horrific to speak of. Crypt lords. Reanimated dragons. Creatures stitched together from bits and pieces belonging to others.

But not once had any of them ever thought that they would encounter an undead pit lord.

Mannoroth. Even undead, he was unmistakable.

Enormous, his skeleton apparently held together with magic and sagging bits of stinking skin, he had fel fire burning throughout his body, and carried a spear the length of a small ship.

And he wasn't alone. Accompanying him were no less than fifteen eredar necromancers – Faith recognized them for what they were right away – who cast spells over him, apparently keeping him alive.

"Necromancers," she whispered. "We've got this. Sylvanas, you and the others focus on Mannoroth. Keep him distracted while the First Magi Corps works on the eredar."

They didn't have time to say anything else to each other, as Mannoroth immediately began his attack, his spellwork amplified by the necromancy animating him.

Faith led an attack against the nearest necromancer, who didn't see it coming, but who nevertheless managed to put up a barrier in time to counter her spell.

However, he hadn't counted on Carrick coming up from behind him, slicing off his head so neatly and suddenly that it took a while for his body to collapse to the ground, blood pouring from the wound.

"Nice work," Faith told him.

"You too," he said.

They kept going. Once the necromancers realized that the Magi Corps were coming for them, they broke off into two groups, with one group working to keep Mannoroth alive, and the other group to fight.

But it was a lost battle. Mannoroth was immensely strong, but without the full power of the necromancers, he didn't stand a chance against the mass of people that surrounded him.

He fell, with a ground-shattering thud, his scream of rage and pain deafening. The silence that followed seemed very loud, hanging in the air.

Faith walked towards where Sylvanas was kneeling. She'd caught a blow to the leg, and as she got closer, she saw blood seeping down her boot. "Are you all right?" she asked her, kneeling next to her.

Sylvanas gave a nod, hoping that no pain registered on her face. She hadn't expected a stray spell to hit her leg like that. She'd felt the bone shattering., actually causing her to lose her balance.

"It's nothing," she said. It wasn't anything. She'd suffered dozens of broken bones before. This shouldn't have felt any different.

"Sylvanas, your voice is shaking." Faith took Sylvanas' hand away from the wound, hissing when she saw the white gleam of bone protruding from her leggings. "Your leg is broken, love. You need some serious healing."

"During a battle? Don't be ridiculous."

Faith laughed, calling for several priests, "Take her to the back."

"Belay that order! Don't you dare, Faith."

"Are you kidding me? If our roles were reversed, you'd carry me off the line in an instant!"

"I order you to leave it alone."

"Don't try to pull rank here, my Lady. I'm commander of the entire Horde forces on Draenor. You are queen of Undercity. In this case, I outrank you." She turned to the priests, "Get her to the back," she repeated.

Sylvanas was too stunned to protest as the priests carried her off the front lines and to the back with the wounded. Rotvine went with her, creating a portal back to Undercity and nearly forcing her through it.

"She just pulled rank on me," she said to nobody in particular. "On me."

"She doesn't want you getting hurt more than you already are."

"I'm not hurt!" she cried.

"There is bone protruding from your leg, your Majesty," said Rotvine quietly. "That may be a normal thing for most Forsaken, but not for you."

Sylvanas glared at him, but gave a sharp cry when a priest performed a healing spell on her. The Light sizzled her skin, making it feel as though it were on fire. She clenched her jaw, determined to not make another sound until it was all over.

Rotvine looked apologetic, "I should get back to the front."

The priest took his hands away, "I'm sorry, your Majesty, but your wound will take several days to heal. There is magic to counter here, and it's not a simple break."

She turned her head to look at him, her gaze deadly, "Excuse me?"

"Your leg was broken by magic. Fel magic, that's why it hurts so much."

She wanted to deny the fact that she was in pain, but couldn't. The pain was running up and down her leg, from her toes up to her thigh. "I'm fine. Help me up."

"I wouldn't try to get back to Faith now if I were you. You're hurt, I don't think you'll be able to walk on that leg, and she would kill us all if we were to amputate it and replace it with a leg that wasn't yours."

"Since when are you more afraid of her than you are of me?"

"Since she could incinerate us with a wave of her hand if we let anything happen to you."

"Not to mention what I could do to you. Neither of you can stop me from going, you realize."

Rotvine looked at her, "You want to go back to the Hellfire Citadel with a broken leg? Fine. Go. Good luck walking, and good luck getting your Val'kyr to resurrect you from here. I hope dying again, in front of Faith, is fun for you."

"Watch your mouth, Rotvine," snarled Sylvanas.

"No. Faith is like a daughter to me, and I will do everything in my power to make sure that she is never hurt again. If that means keeping you from committing suicide in this war, then that's what I'm going to do."

"Keeping her from being hurt is my job," she said. "Not yours."

"You're wrong. But please," he conjured a portal to Shattrath City, moving aside. "Go ahead. If you want to hear Faith scream her head off again as you get killed a fourth time, go. We won't stop you."

Sylvanas shook her head, dejected, knowing he was right, that her leg wouldn't support her through any kind of battle, not in the state it was in. "Get out of here, Carrick. Make sure she's safe. Bring her home to me."

He nodded. A minute later, he had gone back through the portal, leaving her on the floor of the chamber. She felt defeated. A broken leg. A broken leg had gotten her off the front.

"Stupid," she muttered. "It was a rookie mistake."

"You couldn't have known that your leg was going to get magically broken," said the priest, wrapping a clean white bandage around it. "Master Rotvine said it was a ricochet spell?"

She nodded, "I didn't even see it coming. There was a lot going on."

"You're lucky. Had the full blast hit you, you might have been killed instantly."

Sylvanas made a frustrated sound, "I've had worse injuries before."

"I don't doubt that, but you would never expect Faith to try battling with a broken leg."

"Of course not."

"And yet you're upset because she's applying the exact same rule to you." He helped her stand, and she winced as she applied the barest amount of pressure on her leg. He handed her a cane, and the look on her face was so completely baffled that he burst into laughter.

"I haven't needed a cane a day in my life or my undeath."

"It will only be for today. I will have a potion made to leech the fel magic out of your wound, after which I'll be able to heal it fully. It will hurt more, don't get me wrong, but you should be fully functional in about twelve hours."

"I watched the love of my life die and was forced to raise her as an undead. I don't think there's anything more painful than that, really."

"I agree with that, although I was lucky, your Majesty. I didn't see my family die while I was alive. They died after me, and by the time I came back, I didn't really care." There was no grief in his voice as he said this. He could have been talking about the weather for all the emotion he showed. Sylvanas suddenly felt sad for him and shook her head quickly, wanting to retain her anger. She took a step forward, forgetting herself, and promptly collapsed as pain exploded in her leg.

"Damn it!" she shrieked.

The priest cleared his throat, "I'll get started on that potion. In the meantime, you should sit down and keep your leg elevated."

"Keep it elevated," she repeated. "This is a nightmare." She ran a hand over her eyes as she struggled to her feet again, "Get me a few of my guards before you start on that potion. Have them come to my office."

Sylvanas painstakingly walked out of the healing room she'd been dumped in and made her way to the office, which took her far too long. She was worried about Faith, and consequently snapped at anybody who approached her, even if it was someone wanting to help her get to where she was going.

Was she fighting? Was she still alive?

Yes.

Faith was still alive. Injured, with blood running down her face and neck, but she was alive.

Archimonde, however, was not.

She had no idea how he had been killed, having hit her head hard enough to black out in the middle of the fight. Her head was still swimming, and she felt distinctly weak, the way she had that time she'd swallowed bad berries and had been sick for several days.

Khadgar was sitting next to her, looking a little shaken, but otherwise all right.

"We killed Archimonde," he said.

"Defeated, you mean," Faith told him. "He could still get his body back in the Twisting Nether."

"Fine, we defeated him. Again. I don't know how we did it, but we did it."

Faith nodded slowly, sitting up and rubbing her temple. "Explain to me why I decided to get hit in the head?"

Khadgar laughed, "Because you're a good person at heart who didn't want to see a soldier get killed. You saved her life, even if she was a member of the Alliance."

"Don't tell Sylvanas that. She'll kill me herself if she finds out I put myself in harm's way for the Alliance."

"And a Gilnean, to boot."

With a shake of her head, Faith got up, "So, what happened at the end with Archimonde? People are saying he cast a spell or something, but nobody saw anything."

Khadgar got up too, putting an arm around her waist to support her, "He certainly appeared to do that, but I can't be sure."

"You look worried, Khadgar."

He nodded, "Some people saw Gul'dan nearby, but then he disappeared. If he was here, though, why wouldn't he have joined the fight? He's working with the Legion, so he should have wanted to keep Archimonde from falling."

"Maybe he thought that Archimonde couldn't die," suggested Faith.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't bet on it. Something happened."

"You don't think this is over."

He shook his head, "No, I don't."

"What are you going to do?"

"Look into this for a bit. I'll let you and the others know if I find anything."

"Like what? Sargeras trying to invade, even though his told lieutenants are dead?"

"I'm not sure I'd survive that kind of discovery, to be honest."

Faith privately agreed, but didn't want to say anything. She also felt that something wasn't right. They had defeated Archimonde - again - and should have been ecstatic about this fact, but something was nagging the back of her mind.

Where was Gul'dan? After everything that had happened, she hardly believed that he had just gone into hiding.

"Do you want help?" she asked.

"Won't Sylvanas be upset if you don't come home?"

"She'll completely freak out, yes." She was already going to be upset at seeing her hurt.

"Go home. I'll come to you if I need help in any way."

Faith nodded, "All right. Be careful, Khadgar."

Sylvanas knew that Faith was on her way home. She put away bits of parchment that she'd strewn on her desk as she'd toyed with an idea. An idea that would make Faith stronger. More powerful.

You won't like it at first, she said to herself. But you'll grow to understand that I'm doing this for you. Just for you.

Her leg was much better. Still painful, but she was able to walk on it. The priest had come to see her since she'd left him, and had wrapped a potion-soaked bandage around her leg, which had helped quite a bit. He would be able to fully heal her in a few hours.

Faith entered the office. She appeared unharmed, but Sylvanas saw the blood on her clothes, and her eyes widened.

"What happened?" she asked, her voice harsh, close to panic. "Are you all right?"

A nod, "I'm fine, Sylvanas, there's no need to worry. See?" she held out her arms. "No injury."

The queen got to her feet slowly, limping towards her. Not a word did she say as she looked Faith over for herself, touching each smear of blood on her lover's tunic and leggings.

"How can you even see that?"

Sylvanas smirked, "You're my lover, Faith. I know everything about you, including the way your blood alters the fabric of your clothes."

Faith blinked, "You do realize that anybody hearing you would deem you certifiably insane for that statement, right?"

There was a soft chuckle, and Sylvanas' features momentarily smoothed over, "I daresay they would." She kissed her softly. "What happened with Archimonde?"

"Well, you heard that our forces defeated him – there's not much else to say there. I didn't have much to do with it, to be honest, I was unconscious for most of it."

"Unconscious," said Sylvanas, unimpressed. "And you tell me that you're all right."

"I am all right." She looked down at where Sylvanas' hand was slowly stroking the skin above her right hip, "More so when you touch me there, love." She cleared her throat, "How's your leg?"

"It's better. And speaking of that…"

Faith clamped a gentle hand over Sylvanas' mouth, "I know I don't technically outrank you, and that you're furious with me for having taken you off the line. I will not apologize for doing that. You aren't only my lover, Sylvanas, you're the queen of Undercity, our strongest leader. I don't know what we would do if we lost you."

Sylvanas moved her had away from Faith's hand, "Be that as it may –."

"No. You taught me the rules of triage yourself, Sylvanas. Nobody with a broken leg would have been able to fight, and that includes you. The fact that you're still limping now testifies to how bad an injury that was." She raised a hand towards the door, which closed and locked itself.

"What exactly are you doing?"

Kneeling, Faith gently pulled down Sylvanas' leggings, a little surprised to see her barefoot. She pressed a kiss to her uninjured right leg as her hand ghosted over the bandage that still covered her left thigh. A second later, she'd taken the bandage off and was looking at the wound with a critical eye. "That must hurt like hell, love."

"I've had worse, believe me."

Faith ran her hand over the wound once, twice, a spell naturally flowing from her lips and her hand glowing black momentarily. There was a flash of intense pain, which nearly caused Sylvanas to collapse, but a minute later, it had receded. When Faith took her hand away, the wound was closed, leaving a scar there in the cursive shape of an F.

"You are kidding," said Sylvanas. "You branded me?"

"You're welcome," said Faith, looking up at her innocently as she pulled her leggings back on.

Sylvanas pulled her to her feet, "Thank you for healing me with necromantic magic, which, once again, I really wish you wouldn't use."

A small smile, "The scar will fade, I promise."

"But your love for me won't."

Faith blinked, "No. My love for you won't fade. Where did you get that idea?"

"Just checking. I love you, you know."

"I know."

Author's note:

And this, my friends, signals the end of Warlords of Draenor! Hurray!

Lunarelle