Ever since the rumors of the massacre at Zin-Azshari spread, Suramar had been overwhelmed by activity. Its citizens scurried about, trying to pack up their belongings and settle affairs in case they had to flee. No official reports had reached the city yet, but the Sisters of Elune had felt the severance of the Well's power. They had no need to wait for confirmation; they knew that the power of the Well was gone. Though they didn't draw from the arcane source directly, their race was undoubtedly tied to its energy. It was impossible not to notice the change. Many of the citizens of Suramar had sought reassurance from the Temple, and the Sisters of Elune opened their doors to any and all who needed a safe place to pray to their Goddess.
The most frightening part of it all was when they felt their sisters in Zin-Azshari perish. Terror, confusion, and desperation had rippled through their ranks, and many of them turned to their Mother Moon for comfort, with prayers that their sisters passed as peacefully as possible. None of them needed an official report to confirm what they knew, and felt, to be true. That alone was enough to convince Eliana that perhaps it was a good idea to leave. She could simply run home, pack her things, and she and her father could run to safety.
But where would she go? The other Night Elven settlements were far smaller, and in her heart, she felt that her place was here at the Temple. If she ran, there was always the chance that she'd run into a settlement that wasn't Elven, and that was an outcome she most definitely did not want.
A woman and her child rushed past, and Eliana jumped back from the path, narrowly avoiding being plowed over. From the top of the Temple stairs, Tyrande called out to her, "Eliana, what are you doing down there?"
With a sigh, Eliana gathered her skirts and trekked back up the steps. She sidled up to Tyrande, who was standing just before the edge of the veranda, gazing down at the square below. Her friend looked at her admonishingly, and Eliana let out a huff. "I just thought that perhaps we could see better from the plaza whether they'd come back sooner."
"I find that the view across the square is slightly better from up here. There are too many people milling about to have a clear view of the entrance."
Eliana's gaze returned to the archway on the far end of the square. "I suppose you're right." A few seconds passed before she mumbled, "Don't you think it's been far too long since they left the city?"
"It has only been two days, Eliana."
"But with what has happened at the capital…We still do not know where Malfurion and Broxigar are, and Illidan left with Lord Ravencrest. Wouldn't Lord Ravencrest's troops be the first ones to respond to the situation at the palace?"
Tyrande's slender eyebrows cinched together. "Yes, I would imagine so." A beat passed before her friend added, "Eliana, Illidan will be fine. He is a capable warrior."
Choosing to ignore Tyrande's mention of Illidan—even though her friend had correctly guessed the subject of her worry—she instead asked, "How are you not worried?"
"I never said that I wasn't worried. I've simply been trying to keep my mind otherwise occupied."
Eliana hummed, though it was more as an afterthought than true agreement. Her friend was right in saying that two days wasn't very long, but the events at Zin-Azshari had been weighing on her mind since the first rumors had reached them. Though she had faith in Illidan's abilities—despite the fact that she'd only seen him use them the one time—it didn't stop her from worrying.
He wasn't the only one on her mind. Cytheas was one of Lord Ravencrest's soldiers, and even though they weren't speaking at the moment, she still cared about him. She could only hope that he hadn't been at the capital.
She'd started to head inside when a commotion from the square caught her attention. A surge of hope coursed through her, and she hurried back over to Tyrande.
When Malfurion's vibrant green mane came into view, they both breathed a sigh of relief. To Eliana's surprise, Illidan was right beside his brother with Broxigar in tow. She was even more shocked to see that Cytheas rode with them. The four of them veered right and headed straight for the Temple, and Eliana and Tyrande scrambled down the steps to meet them.
"Malfurion! Illidan! You're both all right!" Tyrande exclaimed, rushing forward to embrace Malfurion as soon as he and Illidan had dismounted.
Cytheas followed suit and walked around the twins, beelining for Eliana. Without a word of greeting, he enveloped her in a tight embrace. All of her prior anger towards him dissipated, only to be replaced with relief that he was alive and well. He caressed her hair, and whispered in her ear, "Eli, I am so happy to see you."
"I am happy to see you as well, Cytheas," she murmured, gently touching his upper arm before leaning back a bit. He acquiesced to her silent request and released her, though he then grasped her hand tightly in his own.
Over his shoulder, she saw Tyrande briefly embrace Illidan. When she stepped away, Illidan glanced over at Eliana, his eyebrows furrowed. His amber eyes bore into her own, and all at once, it seemed like the bustle from the square quieted to a soft hum in the background. Everything and everyone faded away, and the only thing that she could focus on was Illidan as he stood in front of her. By Elune's good grace, he appeared to be exactly as she remembered him: healthy, and virile. So many emotions rose up within her, and a wave of warmth flooded her chest. She took a step towards him, feeling the irresistible need to touch him, to make sure that he was really there, and indeed all right.
When she took another step forward, something held her back, and she realized that Cytheas was still holding on to her hand. Illidan walked towards her, and she glanced back at Cytheas, imploring him with her eyes to release her.
His jaw was clenched so tightly that she could see the muscle in his cheek twitching. Gently, he ran his thumb along the side of her hand, and his callouses scratched against her skin. It was as if he were asking her to choose him over Illidan. The memory of what had happened at the Festival of the Moon flashed through her mind. Though she knew it would hurt him, and likely would sever their relationship permanently, they needed to talk about what had transpired between them. By this point, she knew that in the end, no matter how much she tried to convince herself otherwise, she would always care for Illidan in a way that she never could towards her oldest friend.
Softly, she pleaded, "Cytheas…"
Briefly, his gaze flickered past her. The heavy weight of Illidan's hand settled on her shoulder, and his rough baritone swept over her. "Eliana."
After Illidan spoke, Cytheas' eyes met hers once more, and she could practically feel the anguish emanating from him. Again, she pulled her hand back. His face contorted briefly, tainted with hurt, before he schooled it into a more neutral expression. He relaxed his grip and her fingers slipped out of his. Listlessly, his hand dropped to his side. Eliana's heart constricted at the sight of her friend looking so dejected. Her concern for Cytheas was quickly forgotten, however, when she remembered who was behind her.
Illidan brought his hand down to her upper arm and gently turned her around, pulling her into his arms without hesitation. She folded into his embrace as if she'd always belonged there, and wrapped her arms around his torso before laying her cheek on his chest. She inhaled deeply, and his scent filled her senses. It was a mixture of the sharp tang of metal—which was the trademark scent of magic—and the potent smell of pine trees, with just a hint of spice. It was undeniably masculine, dangerous and exotic, and completely Illidan.
Despite how hard she tried, she couldn't stop her voice from wavering. Even though it was slightly muffled because she spoke into his shirt, her relief at seeing him again was obvious. "I'm so glad that you are all right, Illidan."
"I hurried back to the city as fast as I could. I needed to know that you were safe," he murmured, resting his cheek against her hair.
Surprised at that, she pulled away from him to look up into his eyes. "You were concerned for me?"
He cupped her jaw in his hand, an unreadable expression on his face. "Of course I was. I'm glad to see that both you and Tyrande are untouched by the chaos outside the city walls."
At the mention of the other priestess, the hope that Eliana had felt puttered out, and she took a step back, away from Illidan. "I suppose you would be."
Illidan furrowed his eyebrows, seemingly confused at her reaction. He reached out to her again, but she pointedly avoided his touch and looked over at Tyrande and Malfurion. In an attempt to mask the ache in her heart, she asked, "Mal, why are you and Broxigar here? Is it safe for you to return to the city?"
Malfurion nodded, and pointed at the Temple. "It is a long story, but Lord Ravencrest knows that we are here. I need to use the Chamber of the Moon."
"The Chamber of the Moon? Whatever for?" Tyrande questioned.
"I'll explain as we're walking. We must hurry, we don't have much time!" Malfurion exclaimed, leading the way up the steps. The rest of the group followed after him, and they hurried through the Temple to the centermost room.
Malfurion and Tyrande led the way, and Illidan, Cytheas, and Eliana formed the rear, blocking Broxigar in between them. Though they tried to hide his appearance, it simply wasn't possible. A few of the priestesses cried out when they saw him, and it took Tyrande and Eliana's whispered reassurances to send them on their way. Finally, when they reached the Chamber, a sentinel caught up to them and pulled Tyrande aside.
"Sister, I realize that it is customary for the Temple to allow any and all through its doors, but that creature—"
Incensed, Tyrande pulled out of the sentinel's grasp. "Elune says that all of her children are welcome, does she not?"
The guard looked thoroughly chagrined, though she continued to attempt to reason with Tyrande. "Well, yes, the teachings don't specify anything about other races, but—"
When Eliana saw the look on Tyrande's face, she stepped forward and offered, "He is in our care, sister. As Tyrande has said, he has just as much right to be here as we do. You have our word that he will not cause any harm."
A sigh left the sentinel, and finally, she stepped back. "Very well. But try to keep him out of sight as much as possible. There is far too much panic as it is."
Eliana nodded, and Tyrande moved around the group to push open the massive doors that marked the entrance to the Chamber of the Moon. After clearing the room of its inhabitants—which were only two fellow sisters, who with one glance at Broxigar were more than happy to leave—the group headed inside. Cytheas shut the door behind them, and Malfurion and Tyrande made their way to the center of the room.
Malfurion glanced up at the sky through the round opening in the ceiling. He stood there for a few seconds, deep in thought, and sounding rather impatient, Tyrande asked, "Mal, what's going on?"
Without looking at her, he said, "I intend to walk the Emerald Dream again."
The Emerald Dream? Confused, Eliana turned to Illidan, who was watching his brother with a tense expression. "Illidan, what is that?"
"Something my brother learned from Cenarius, I assume." His words were clipped and short, and she cringed at the harshness in his tone. Considering he was still staring at Malfurion and Tyrande, she imagined they were the cause of his irritation, and tried not to take offense.
Malfurion and Tyrande continued to speak to each other in low, hushed tones, and even from a few steps back, Eliana couldn't hear the rest of their conversation. After a couple of minutes, Malfurion sank to the floor, crossing his legs beneath him. The opening in the ceiling offered a single, waxen ray of moonlight, and because of where he sat, he was completely enveloped in the silvery glow. Tyrande and Broxigar joined him, and when Tyrande reached out to take Malfurion's hand, Illidan let out a grunt and faced the other direction. Eliana glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, empathizing with him. She knew exactly what he was going through; she experienced the same emotions every time she saw him and Tyrande together.
Sensing that Malfurion likely needed peace and quiet, and no interruptions, Eliana walked to the outer edge of the room and sat down on a stone bench. Illidan remained standing, though his arms were now crossed and he was glaring at the wall. Her gaze flitted past him to Cytheas, who was watching her with a blank expression on his face. Their eyes met, and he slowly made his way over to her.
When he stood just in front of her, he seemed unsure of how to act. Taking the initiative, she patted the other half of the bench, inviting him to sit down next to her. His shoulders sagged in relief and he did just that, though when their thighs brushed, she surreptitiously scooted over to give them a bit more room.
He didn't say anything once he was seated, and they watched Tyrande and Malfurion in silence. Illidan started pacing along the perimeter, and without realizing that she was doing it, her eyes followed him around the room. Cytheas must've noticed, because when Illidan was on the opposite end of the room, he spoke.
"You love him, don't you?"
Startled out of her reverie, Eliana faced Cytheas, feeling her cheeks flush. "I—Love is a strong word. To be honest, I hardly know him. I don't think I could say that I love him..."
When he met her gaze, his eyes were shuttered. "And yet, how could it be anything else? I was a fool to think I could change your heart."
Though she knew this talk needed to happen, and that it had been a long time coming, it didn't make it any easier. "You've never been a fool, Cytheas. If you are one, then so am I," she murmured with a hesitant, albeit sad smile.
His gaze briefly focused on Tyrande, before returning to hers. He offered a brief smile in response, and quipped, "Fools in love then, are we?"
She recognized his olive branch for what it was, and her smile widened. "I suppose we are."
He held out his hand for hers, and without hesitation, she took it. Softly, he traced patterns into her skin. "You know, I realized it a few years ago, the way I felt about you."
"Years?"
"Yes. It was shortly after your coming of age party."
Eliana looked down at their joined hands. It felt nice—warm, comforting. But it didn't make her feel the same way that Illidan's touch did; her veins didn't feel like they were set alight with desire. She'd feared as much when Cytheas first admitted his feelings to her. But now she had proof, and it was difficult to swallow. Now that he knew for certain how she felt about Illidan, and that she couldn't return his feelings, she knew that their relationship would never be the same from here on out. They would remain friends, that was what his olive branch had been, but it was inevitable that their dynamic would change. She mourned the loss of what they had been before.
"Why didn't you say anything?" she whispered.
A brief, dry chuckle left him. "I think I knew even then that I had no chance." His fingers stopped moving, and he looked up at her. "Can you honestly say that if I had said something, that anything would've been different?"
Eliana held Cytheas' gaze for a few seconds, then took in all of his features: the straight edge of his nose, his high, prominent brow bone, the deep, navy shade of his hair. He was handsome, he always had been. But she could never see him as more than a brother. She tightened her grip on his hand and mumbled, "No."
He dropped his gaze, and mumbled, "I thought as much."
"I'm so sorry, Cytheas." A wave of sadness swept through her, and she moved to reach out to him.
At that, he held up his other hand, and she dropped her arm. "No, I don't wish for you to apologize. I know quite well that you cannot help where your heart lies. Even though I royally screwed things up, I'm grateful that you even gave me a chance."
She nodded, not knowing what else to say. He might be grateful that she gave him a chance, but she felt like she'd strung him along, toyed with his emotions. The very minute he'd admitted his desire to court her, she'd thought of Illidan. She'd known from the start where her affections lay, and yet, she'd accepted Cytheas' suit. What did that say about her? Disappointed in herself, she pressed her lips together.
Cytheas tapped her chin, and she glanced up at him. When he saw the look on her face, he shook his head reprovingly and said, "If I know you at all, I know you're blaming yourself right now—don't. I pushed to court you, and you said yes because that is who you are. You didn't wish to hurt me. Not then, and not now. To be honest, though it may not be you want to hear...it makes me love you more. You are kind-hearted, you always have been, and it would've hurt me more if you'd simply said no back then. At least this way, I know I gave it my best shot."
This was the first time he'd admitted his feelings aloud, and again, she didn't know what to say. It wasn't as if she could reciprocate, and there was nothing she could offer that would make him feel any better. Her eyes dropped to her lap again, and he placed his other hand over hers.
"Eliana," he prompted, and she looked back up at him. He hesitated for a second, before he said, "I'm sorry for what I did that day. I had no right, and I know it's no excuse, but I was desperate."
Without hesitation, she replied, "I forgive you, Cytheas."
He smiled, though it wasn't entirely out of happiness. "You forgive too easily, Eli. But I—I am glad to hear that. It's a relief, to be sure."
"I know this may not be the smartest thing to ask, but why are you being so kind now?" She realized how bad that sounded and backtracked, hurriedly adding, "Not that you weren't always kind to me, but I mean, I cannot return your feelings. I would've thought you'd be more...upset."
He broke eye contact and his gaze shifted to just past her ear. Silently, he stared at the wall, his mind clearly elsewhere. When he spoke again, his voice was hollow, and it frightened her a bit. "I was upset. But the things I've seen in the past two days alone...When I returned to the Hold and saw Illidan, I...it made me think of that day again. I realized how much I had erred, and how much I needed to speak with you, to tell you that I was sorry. I couldn't—I couldn't go into battle to die knowing that we had never set things right."
"Die? But you weren't injured, were you?"
"No, I wasn't. But I easily could have been. I was supposed to be there at Zin-Azshari, Eliana. Somehow, fate intervened and I remained at the Hold."
She gasped and covered her mouth with her hand. He tightened his grip on hers, before continuing. "When I found out that Illidan and Malfurion were returning to the city, I rushed here with them, hoping and praying to Elune that you would be safe, untouched by the demons. The relief that I felt when I saw you standing there was...Somehow my feelings are so much more insignificant now. So long as you are alive and well, then that is all that matters."
"Oh, Cytheas. You could have…" She trailed off, tears welling in her eyes. He was right. Seeing each other safe and sound was so much more important than their misunderstanding. Knowing that there was nothing else they could say, he squeezed her hand again.
By then, Illidan approached them, having nearly completed one revolution around the room. When he saw them together—holding hands, and seated only inches apart—his already terse expression morphed into something much darker. Cytheas quickly let go of her hand and rose to his feet. "I'm going to go and speak to the garrison. Perhaps Jarrod will have some information."
"Will you check on my father as well? I'm so worried about him, but I haven't been able to leave the city. Not with how many people have been coming to the Temple."
"Of course, Eliana. I'll be back soon," Cytheas promised, before leaving the room.
Not long after the door had shut, Illidan collapsed onto the bench where Cytheas had been sitting with a sigh. He leaned against the wall and closed his eyes, massaging his temple. "I take it you two have solved your problems?" he asked in a rough voice.
"Yes, we have."
His eyes shot open, and after he looked over at her, he deadpanned, "I'm happy for you."
A wry smile lifted the corner of her lips. "You don't sound like it…"
Another sigh left him and he straightened. "I'm sorry. This whole thing has me on edge."
"The situation in Zin-Azshari, you mean?"
"That, them, you; everything."
"Me? Whatever have I done?" Eliana asked, confused.
Illidan faced her, and held her gaze for far longer than he ever had before. "You are an enigma. I can't seem to pin you down."
"I'm hardly an enigma...Illidan, you're not making much sense. Are you feeling ill?" she asked, pressing the back of her hand against his forehead.
"I'm making perfect sense. You're simply not listening," he chided, wrapping his fingers around her wrist. Somehow, his touch felt more intimate than their embrace earlier, and her entire body flushed with warmth.
"I don't understand," she mumbled.
"One second, you're telling me that you don't know if you and Cytheas could ever be friends again. Yet here you are, having made up with no problem. You encourage me and tell me that you are happy I've found my calling, and then you turn around and sit in dark corners with him, holding hands. What am I supposed to believe, Eliana?"
She was equal parts embarrassed that he'd seemed to notice her attentions towards him, and miffed that he was acting so...rude. "Of course I encouraged you, Illidan. I understand how difficult it can be to follow the path that was truly meant for you, especially when others in your life may wish otherwise. When you told Tyrande and I of your success under Lord Ravencrest's watch, I was happy for you. And as for Cytheas, if you must know, we were discussing his courtship of me."
"And?" he demanded, sounding impatient.
She tilted her head to the side, and asked, "Why do you wish to know?"
"Eliana, indulge me for now."
It was hard for her to form coherent thoughts, what with her wrist still encircled in Illidan's grasp. The warmth from his fingers was radiating up through her arm, and she was feeling flustered at his...interrogation. "I—He...I told him that I could never feel that way towards him. Not when—" She broke off, realizing that she'd been about to admit that she had feelings for someone else—the very male sitting across from her now. Switching routes, she finished, "He understood and apologized for what he'd done the day of the festival. That's all."
"And that required you to hold hands? That's a rather intimate act for such a letdown." He let go of her wrist and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees.
Despite his sudden, abrasive attitude, a small inkling of hope flared in her chest. "Are you...are you jealous, Illidan?"
"Of course not, I—" He ran a hand down his face before jumping to his feet. Anxiously, he paced back and forth in front of the bench. Eliana watched him, feeling even more bewildered at his behavior. Finally, he halted his movements and stared down at her, his eyes intense. "What were you going to say?"
It was increasingly difficult to keep up with his rapid change of topic. Confused, she lowered her eyebrows. "When?"
"Earlier. You said that you told Cytheas that you could not reciprocate his feelings. Not when...what?"
Eliana closed her eyes with a resigned sigh, lamenting the fact that he'd caught on to that. Of course he had. Illidan was sharp, more intelligent than most. He had a perceptive mind, and keen senses. There was no way he hadn't heard her say that, even though she'd tried her hardest to move past her little slip-up. Was this the moment when she'd admit her feelings to him? Was this even the right time, or place?
Deciding that she couldn't prolong the inevitable any longer, she whispered, "Not when I have feelings for someone else."
Slowly, he sat back down on the bench. In a surprisingly gentle motion, he grasped her hands in his own and locked eyes with her. "Who do you have feelings for, Eliana?" he asked in a low voice.
She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out, and she closed it again with a snap. Now that the moment was staring her in the face, she couldn't bring herself to do it. With Cytheas, she'd been lucky that he was willing to let things lie in the past and continue being nothing more than friends. What if Illidan didn't return her feelings—scratch that, she knew he didn't, considering the way he still looked at Tyrande—and her admittance ruined everything between them? If he could never love her, at least they could remain friends. Her eyes slid shut, and she hoped that Illidan would just drop the subject and let things be.
The feel of his fingers tracing along her jaw surprised her, and her eyes shot open. His face was now mere inches from hers and she reeled back slightly, shocked at his close proximity. He cupped the back of her head with his other hand, not allowing her to move away any farther. He slid closer to her on the bench, and his knee pressed against the side of her thigh, causing her to suck in a breath. Softly, he asked, "Tell me who, Eliana."
Unable to resist the pull of his beautiful, golden eyes, she spoke, even though she was terrified that she'd come to regret it. "You," she whispered, so softly that it was any wonder he actually heard her.
Before she could process what had happened, his lips were pressed against hers.
A/N:
Finally! Illiana development (thanks Terikel for the pairing name, hahah)! I have nothing to really say about the chapter, so on to the thanks!
Thanks to Terikel, racethesun, Cheesetrees, Bohmzawe, skyblueocean, and Dawn for the reviews! And thanks to everyone who favorited/followed :) I appreciate you all! See you next time!