After finishing Lion's Triumph, I told myself to take a few weeks break before getting back into it...

As you can see, that went really well.

So! Welcome to the sixth installment of the Lion of the Alliance saga. Once again, this is a direct sequel to my previous works, so if you're reading for the first time and don't want to get lost, I highly recommend starting from the beginning with Lion's Trial.

I know a lot of people have asked, and yes, I will be doing Legion. This particular story, however, is set in the time between Warlords of Draenor and Legion. I'm working on the assumption that a few years pass between Warlords and Legion, largely based on the fact that Anduin got hit pretty hard by the puberty stick between expansions.

Rated M for the usual: violence, themes, and adult shenanigans. Enjoy!

Lion's Rise

Auriana

Auriana Fenwild was alone.

She was standing upon the ruins of a once great city, though she could not have said where she was, or how she had she had come to be there. There was little to distinguish one pile of rubble from another, and no landmarks that Auriana could recognise. What was clear, however, was that some kind of great calamity had befallen the city, and that not a single soul had survived its destruction.

A strange aura of wrongness hung over the ruins, and Auriana's heart instinctively beat faster as she cautiously began to explore her immediate surroundings. She made her way for the tallest pile of debris she could find, and carefully climbed her way to the top. The devastation was unrelenting, stretching as far as the eye could see, though oddly enough, Auriana could not see a single body. Discarded weaponry lay everywhere, but despite all the evidence of a great battle, there were no fallen combatants to be found.

A bright flash of blue cloth suddenly caught her eye; the lone burst of colour in a sea of desolate stone grey. Auriana half slid, half fell down the tower of rubble on which she had stood, and she made her way towards the blue cloth as fast as she was able. She gathered her power around her like a shield as she clambered over the shattered masonry, unable to shake the feeling of dread that had settled over her like a cloud, and carefully knelt between two great slabs of stone.

It took some effort to extricate the blue material from where it lay, but after a few minutes Auriana was able to wriggle it free. She smoothed the tattered fabric out over her lap, hoping it would give her some kind of clue as to her whereabouts - and immediately wished she hadn't. The blue cloth was, in fact, a banner, marked with a bloodstained Alliance lion. It was edged with finely wrought gold thread, and Auriana gasped as she realised there was only one place in the world that she could possibly be. Desperately, she looked around for anythingthat would suggest that she was wrong, only for her jaw to drop in horror as she began to recognise the shapes of familiar buildings amongst the ruins.

Stormwind.

"No…" she breathed, fighting back a rising sense of panic. "Not Stormwind. It's impossible. I was there just this morning… it can't be…"

A cold, cruel laugh sounded from somewhere behind her, and Auriana turned in horror to see Archimonde the Defiler standing upon what she now realised were the remains of Stormwind Keep. He was exactly as she remembered, impossibly large and powerful, with eyes of pure hellfire. If anything, he looked even more impressive than he had on Draenor, his gargantuan muscles rippling beneath freshly forged armour. She had no idea how he had appeared so quickly and silently, though of course nothing about her current situation made any kind of sense.

"You're dead," Auriana stammered, trying not to shake. "You're dead. We stopped you. We killed you."

"The Legion is endless," Archimonde intoned, seeming to grow even larger with every word. "As will be your suffering."

He raised a hand, and a massive fel meteor suddenly rocketed towards Auriana's position. She blinked to the side at the last second, covering her head with her hands as the meteor's impact showered her with debris. Another meteor followed, and another, and with a horrible sinking feeling, Auriana realised that Archimonde was playing some kind of cruel game. He wasn't actually trying to kill her, but rather make her scramble about the ruins of Stomwind for his own twisted amusement.

To hell with this, she thought grimly, as yet another meteor missed her by inches. I'm not dying on the run.

"I'll fight you," she snarled, sliding to a sudden stop as a chunk of stonework shattered right beside her. "I've done it before. I can do it again."

To Auriana's surprise, Archimonde immediately ceased his fel assault, and stared down at her with a calculating grin.

"Is that so?" he crooned, the sudden quietness of his voice infinitely more terrifying than his shout. "But how can you possibly hope to defeat me, girl, when you are so very alone?"

The eredar lord took a slow, deliberate step to the side, his eyes gleaming in triumph, and Auriana's soul shattered as she beheld Varian's lifeless body, impaled upon the the ruined ramparts of his own Keep. She screamed so loudly that she thought she must have torn her throat wide open, and she felt the pain of a thousand knives tear viciously through her heart. She tasted the salt of her own desperate tears on her lips as she clutched blindly at her magic, and a red haze unlike any she had ever known descended ominously over her vision. In that moment, she no longer knew what it was to show restraint, or kindness, or mercy, as everything she had been was reduced to naught but fire and fury and bloodlust...

And then she was nothing at all.

With a gasp, Auriana sat bolt upright in her bed, raking both hands through her sweaty hair. Her heart was pounding violently, and her legs were quivering as if she'd just run twenty miles. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, desperately trying to tell herself it was all just a dream, and that she was perfectly safe within her rooms in the floating mage city of Dalaran. It was difficult, however, when it all felt so real; from the horrifying sound of Archimonde's voice echoing through her bones, to the scent of smoke and burning cloth in the air...

Cloth?

"Damn!" she swore, her eyes flying open. "Damn, damn, damn!"

Auriana threw herself out of bed, nearly falling on her face as her legs tangled in the blankets. While Archimonde may not have been real, the pyroblast she had cast most definitely was, and it had set the heavy purple curtains on the opposite side of her room ablaze. She staggered, smacking hard into the side of her wooden wardrobe, and winced as she stubbed her toe on the foot of the bed. She had no time to inspect the damage, however, if she were going to prevent the rest of the room from catching on fire.

Ignoring the pain in her toe and the sudden bite of the cold night air on her bare legs, Auriana quickly gathered her magic, and blanketed half the room in a wave of frost. The curtains had caught fire surprisingly quickly, and she decided that it was best to err on the side of caution. She shivered as her conjured blizzard swirled about the room, but she maintained the spell until she was certain that there were no flames remaining, and the room was once again plunged into darkness.

Auriana stood in the dark for a few long moments, listening to her own laboured breathing, before she turned to light the lamp on her side table with a simple wave of her hand. She looked down at her feet, and sighed in dismay as she beheld her bloody and swollen toe.

"Ow," she muttered, hopping awkwardly over to her dresser.

Given her talent for collecting injuries, Auriana had long ago fallen into the habit of keeping basic first aid supplies wherever she lived, and she quickly set about bandaging her battered toe. It was a small injury, especially compared to most of the damage she had taken over the years, but she didn't want to bleed all over the floor - especially considering that her curtains were undoubtedly damaged beyond repair.

Jaina's going to kill me, she thought, staring ruefully over at the charred remains of the once decadent cloth.

The blonde Archmage had been kind enough to offer Auriana permanent quarters for whenever she was in Dalaran, and now she had repaid that kindness by lighting the room on fire. Curtains aside, it would also take a while to get the smell of smoke and burned linen out of the room, though she had at least managed to prevent any real structural damage.

Sighing, Auriana finished treating her bloody toe, and carefully stowed her bandages in the dresser once more. She then moved to crawl back into bed, only to realise that she was not at all tired. Dreaming of Varian's death had rattled her to the core, and she knew she wasn't likely to get any sleep whilst her body was still humming with adrenaline an anxiety. Instead of the bed, then, Auriana walked over to her wardrobe, and pulled out a woollen dress, a cloak, and a pair of heavy boots. Her normally comfortable rooms now felt distinctly claustrophobic, and so she decided to clear her thoughts with a bracing walk.

The air outside was cold, as it always was in Dalaran at night. The high altitude, combined with the generally frigid climate of Northrend, made for lovely temperate days but chilly nights, and Auriana was glad for her cloak as she made her way out of the Violet Citadel and down towards the Eventide. The cool wind bit at her nose and cheeks as she walked, and she knew very well that her pale face would be bright pink within minutes. Fortunately, the city was virtually empty at this time of night. She guessed that it was a couple of hours after midnight, and the only other people awake were a few lonely guards going about their patrols.

Auriana was immensely grateful for the silence and the stillness of the night air, and she even found herself relaxing slightly as she made a slow lap of the city. She fell into a slight trance as she walked, purposefully keeping her mind blank so as not to lose herself once again in the grips of her nightmare. It was a difficult task, and it required so much of her concentration that she failed to notice the tall, dark figure heading in her direction. She barrelled into him without thinking, and would have cried out had she not recognised the familiar grey beard looming over her.

"Khadgar!" she gasped, touching a hand to her chest. "What are you doing out this late?"

"I could ask you the same question," he said, gently catching her shoulders to prevent her from falling. "Couldn't sleep?"

"No," she murmured. "Honestly, I haven't slept properly since the siege of Hellfire Citadel. Hell, I suppose I haven't really slept properly since Blackrock Foundry, but tonight was… bad."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Khadgar asked, his blue eyes kind.

Once certain that she would not topple over, he carefully released her shoulder, and stood back with his arms folded across his chest. For a moment, Auriana considered refusing his offer, before remembering her recent resolution to be more open with the people around her.

"I… I keep seeing Archimonde in my dreams," she confessed. "Honestly, it's like he's right there, standing over me while I sleep. The things he says, Khadgar..."

She sighed, and hugged her arms tightly about her body.

"You… you're sure he's dead… right?" she asked, unable to keep a note of pleading from entering her voice.

"As certain as I can be," Khadgar said firmly. "I have been probing the Twisting Nether, searching for Gul'Dan… and I have come across nothing that might suggest Archimonde is still alive."

"Is that where you were tonight?" she wondered.

"Yes," Khadgar replied seriously, gathering his robes beneath him and taking a seat on the edge of a nearby fountain.

Projecting one's power into the Twisting Nether was a monumental task, even for a mage as skilled as Khadgar, and Auriana realised that there was only one place on Azeroth where he could have accessed enough magical energy for the task.

"You went to Karazhan," she said flatly, taking a seat at her mentor's side. "I hope you know you're playing with fire, there."

"I am aware," he said sternly, shooting her a sidelong glance. "There was a particular confluence of power tonight in the ley nexus beneath Karazhan. It presented me with a unique opportunity to look further than I ever have. I felt the potential gain was worth the risk."

"Any luck?"

"None whatsoever," Khadgar sighed, looking as weary as Auriana had ever seen him. "For the time being, at least, Gul'Dan remains elusive."

"Until he decides to show his ugly face back here," she added bitterly.

"Indeed," Khadgar agreed, his mouth drawing into a thin line.

It was rare to see the normally unflappable Archmage in a state of genuine irritation, though Auriana sympathised completely.

"I hate… waiting," she growled. "We should be out there, taking the fight to the Legion directly."

"I don't disagree," Khadgar said quietly, "But the Twisting Nether is a big place. We have no idea where their strongholds are located, or even when they are in time."

"I know," Auriana sighed. "I'm just getting a bit tired of waking in a terrified sweat every night."

"Your dreams are that bad?" Khadgar asked worriedly, leaning forward and rubbing a thoughtful hand across his chin.

"I accidentally lit my room on fire tonight," she muttered sheepishly. "I panicked in the dream, and… well… my curtains bore the brunt."

"Really?" he asked. "I've never heard of someone using magic in their sleep."

"I'm just lucky I was here, and not in Stormwind," Auriana murmured, her voice breaking slightly. "What if I'd hit Varian? What if I'd hurt him, Khadgar, I..."

"Hey," he said calmly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. Varian is perfectly safe, there's no harm done."

"Tell that to my curtains," Auriana snorted.

She shook her head ruefully, horrified at the thought of hurting the man she loved. For a brief second, she was right back in the dream, staring at Varian's unmoving body, and she couldn't stop herself from shivering violently.

"You want to know one thing that really bothers me about the Legion?" she said, more to distract herself than anything else. "It's that all of them - Archimonde, Gul'Dan, every damn demon I've ever come across - they all keep trying to offer me a job. They think I should join them. They think I'm like them, and sometimes… I wonder if they're seeing something I'm not."

"Oh, no," Khadgar said urgently, reaching forward to take her by the hand. "No, my girl, no."

"But…"

"Look," he said firmly, "I know you're not exactly…"

"Socially gifted?" she supplied, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes… let's go with that…" Khadgar agreed, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "But you aren't a thing like Archimonde, or Gul'Dan. You care. You care so much that it hurts. To be like them, you'd have to stop caring about anyone other than yourself... and I don't think you're capable of that. You're a good person, Auriana, and no one will ever convince me otherwise."

Auriana blushed furiously at Khadgar's words, somewhat surprised that he would defend her so passionately. She tilted her head backwards, ostensibly to stare up at the stars, though it was really to hide the sudden prick of tears behind her eyes. Fortunately, Khadgar had an uncanny ability to sense the moods of others, and he allowed her to sit in comfortable silence for as long as it took to collect her thoughts.

Eventually, however, Auriana gathered herself enough to meet Khadgar's eyes, and she offered him a small, shaky smile.

"You know," he said quietly, carefully changing the topic, "I didn't expect to see you in Dalaran overnight. I thought you might be in Stormwind…"

He trailed off, and Auriana frowned. Between her dream and the incident with the curtains, she had almost forgotten why she had been sleeping in Dalaran. Khadgar's obvious curiosity also instantly raised her defenses, and she struggled to resist the urge to shut down. That said, opening up to the Archmage had thus far been easier than she had expected, and she decided that there was little point in concealing the rest of her concerns from him.

"Stormwind has been… difficult," she admitted. "I was due to report to Jaina tomorrow, but I decided to arrive a bit early. I've been here since lunchtime."

"Is Varian treating you poorly?" Khadgar asked, looking rather surprised at the thought.

"No," Auriana said quickly. "No, of course not. Varian is… very attentive. It's everyone else in Stormwind who's the problem."

She sighed, and stared down at her hands.

"I expected our relationship to attract… interest, of course…" she explained, "Especially considering how we made it public… but I thought the fuss might die down after a while. And yet… it's been over a month since I returned from Draenor, and I'm still the subject of all kinds of gossip."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, depending on the day… I've either used my powers to bewitch Varian into loving me," Auriana said, shrugging, "Or I'm blackmailing him, or I'm carrying his bastard child and he has no choice but to be with me. I could go on, but I think you get the picture."

"I see," Khadgar said soberly, his brow creasing thoughtfully. "Um… you're not… are you? Pregnant, I mean."

"No!" she exclaimed, swatting him in the arm. "Of course not. And I know I shouldn't let it bother me, but… this is all very new. I'm used to enemies that will fight me directly, not enemies that whisper at me from the shadows. I can face down a demon lord without thinking, without even hesitating... but I have no idea what to do about some snarky little nobleman's daughter who wants to show me up."

"Does Varian know?" Khadgar wondered. "I can't imagine he'd stand for that kind of thing."

"I haven't told him," Auriana murmured, shifting her weight uncomfortably. "The nobles are very good at playing this game. Most of the gossip has come to me second hand; I don't actually know who's starting the rumours, as opposed to who's just passing on what they've heard. And I don't want to cause him more trouble than I already have."

She glanced downwards, knowing that she had just told a partial lie. In actual fact, she had a very good idea who was responsible, at least for some of the cruel chatter that had been aimed her way, but she knew she couldn't move against him without evidence. Despite their flaws, the House of Nobles were both important and influential, and Auriana knew that disrupting the delicate balance between the crown and nobility without good cause could have far-reaching consequences for the citizens of Stormwind.

"They don't think I'm worthy of him," she added, wringing her hands slightly. "Maybe they're right."

"Poppycock," Khadgar exclaimed, staring her right in the eye. "Of course you're worthy of him. Varian is very much a man of his own opinions, and he chose you. I'm also fairly sure he thinks you're worth an awful lot of trouble. Don't forget that."

"'Poppycock'?" Auriana repeated, unable to keep herself from smiling. "That doesn't make you sound about a million years old…"

"It's a perfectly appropriate word," Khadgar retorted, his eyes twinkling. "And I'm not old. I'm distinguished."

He lifted his chin with mock imperiousness, and Auriana barked out a brief, sardonic laugh.

"Your age is finally starting to catch up to your looks," she teased.

"Oh, funny…" he said sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "And here I was thinking that you preferred older men."

"Hey!" she shouted, both surprised and amused by his clever retort. "Now who's the comedian?"

The two mages exchanged quick, genuine smiles, and Auriana felt the heavy weight that had settled over her heart lessen slightly. Talking to Khadgar was always enlightening, though she was surprised how much her mood had improved simply by sharing her burdens. He had not offered judgement or censure, as Auriana had somewhat expected, and she began to wonder why she had avoided openly expressing her feelings so determinedly in the past.

"Thank you," she said sincerely, growing serious once more. "I know I can always count on you to knock my head on straight."

"Anytime, my dear," Khadgar replied warmly, gently patting her thigh. "I'm sorry I can't do much to help you with your nightmares, or the gossips in Stormwind… but if you ever need to be reminded of your worth, I will always be here for you."

He rose to his feet, yawning slightly as he stood.

"Well, this old man had best be off to bed," he said. "Unless you'd like me to stay?"

"No, I'll be alright," Auriana said firmly, not wanting to impinge on his kindness any further. "You've done more than enough."

"Would you like me to walk you back to the Violet Citadel?"

"I think I'll stay out a bit longer," she said, offering him what she hoped was an encouraging smile. "I'm not really tired, and it's a lovely clear night."

"Very well," Khadgar conceded, though a frown of deep concern flashed briefly across his features. "Don't stay out here too long, mind. You'll catch a chill."

"I won't," she assured him, both amused and touched by his fatherly concern. "Goodnight, Khadgar."

"Goodnight, Auriana. Sleep well."