**Author's Note!** - I suppose I could make this an epilogue to
Imprisonment, but you know what? I'm way too impatient to wait til I finish
it. ^_^ If you're just happening upon this, I have a horrible obsession
over Illidan/Maiev; there are a few touches on past events in this tale,
which will eventually be written into Imprisonment, which is my telling of
what went on in that 10,000 year confinement of Illidan's. Just imagine
some weird stuff they've done and I'm sure you'll catch the drift, lol.
---
Where is he...
Maiev shivered as she wrapped her cape tightly around her, but still held her head high.
Why must it be so cold...
The wind whistled as it blew swiftly past her sharp and shining chak-ram.
I must continue the hunt... Do not give up, woman...
The frozen winds of Northrend tore at Maiev Shadowsong's prominent figure on the icy plain. She tried her best to ignore it, her mind focused on other tasks, but she lacked insulation and the proper attire for such weather, and continued to shiver, a slave to the unrelenting winter blasts as she was to her work.
The Warden was alone, something she had become accustomed to in her long time of being, something she was actually comfortable with. Her small posse of Watchers had either returned back to the forests of Kalimdor or had been ordered to stay at certain points on the journey here to function as guards and spies. Though she wouldn't have minded watching someone else suffer through the cold beside her for a distraction, she wanted to press on in her search for The Betrayer alone.
A brief mental picture floated through her head, making her pause in mid- trudge. Illidan Stormrage. A fine example of a night elf and demon hunter gone wrong. He had the sculpted body of a god and the intentions of a mad demon. He had betrayed their race and escaped his prison of 10,000 years. He was a criminal on the run.
Maiev absolutely adored him.
Her position as a Warden and a hand of justice forbade it, but Maiev, as a night elf and not a Watcher, felt more for him than anyone else she had ever known. A good part of it was hate, another a maddening lust, but she knew deep down that she held utter respect and love for him. After all, she hadn't spent his entire prison term with him for nothing. Those 10 millenia alone with him in a cave had earned him a high title of honor in her mind. Now that he had escaped, it was her job to find and detain him, and throw him back in his cell so she could spend more time with him.
She never told him outright, but she was sure he knew. For the first time in her life, she cared, personally, for someone, and it was he.
An especially nasty gust almost whirled her completely around in her tracks. Maiev curled her lip upward and forced herself forward, her face contorted into a twist of determination underneath her snow-flecked helmet.
You know I'm coming, you rogue. Where are you...
A small patch of color amid the white attracted her attention in the distance. Hunching over to protect more against the wind, Maiev stumbled through the snow toward the spot, intent to find out what it was. She knew Illidan had come this way; she knew of his intentions on coming to this wretched place, the frozen throne of the infamous but (thankfully) imprisoned Lich King. He had been running here along, running from her but leaving distinct clues of his direction in his wake, all of which she was sure were left for her to find and follow.
His feelings toward her had also been unspoken, but she imagined that he felt about the same as she.
Illidan...
Her breath catching in her throat, Maiev neared the brilliant patch of color, which turned to red the closer she came. She could see a crumpled body in a pool of what she assumed was blood, contorted in a position of death. She blocked out the cold and began pushing through the snow as fast she could.
Two spiraled demon horns poked up from the pale purple body, tattered wings splayed upon the ground.
Maiev heart almost stopped. Oh, God.
Illidan Stormrage lay motionless on the snow, white powder already beginning to cover his thick muscled chest. Maiev lost all sense of her surrounding and dove towards the body, nails clawing for the skin she had been longing to touch once more. He was cold to the touch, but warmth lingered in a few places on his body, as if he had not been here only a few moments before.
Maiev felt a sting in her eyes as they traveled up the long, clean cut on his chest.
My heart...
Removing the sharp armor on her hands and fingers, Maiev traced the wound with a lacquered nail, taking in every detail on the still body with narrowed eyes.
I will not cry.
It was a mark made by a sharp blade, not all that deep but most likely tainted in some way. Illidan would probably be standing otherwise, unhindered by such a superficial injury, and most likely cursing, for some reason or another.
A cold tear made its way down her smooth cheek, pausing only a moment on her jawbone before dropping to the demon hunter's flesh and freezing fast to it. Maiev's eyes closed for a moment, taking in the entire scene, and glad again that no one was with her. She crawled up against his torso and wrapped one of his arms around her as she huddled on his chest and let rare tears fall onto his corpse. What could she do now? Her love and hate and target all the same, lying here dead, slowly freezing to a shard of ice here on the frozen wasteland of Northrend. The whole impact of it hit her at once and she collapsed on his body, sobbing for all she was worth.
Her nails dug into his skin for the thousandth and final time, desperately trying to find some sort of life in him to grasp and hold onto, but it slipped away from her reach. Her hands found his face and caressed it, running her fingers over the pale lips that had touched her and she had touched, the lips that had excited and enticed her countless times. Lips that had spoken poison and sugar to her over the past 10,000 years. She hauled her body up and pressed her own silken lips to his in a gentle kiss, wishing there was a response.
But there wasn't.
Maiev found herself staring at the dark blindfold that graced his face and reached her it. Slowly, her hands pushed it up and away from his unseen and closed eyes. She gently pried open one of his eyes, finding only bloodshot white. She stared into his eye for a moment, sniffing, before promptly removing herself from the body and standing.
Her wet eyes narrowed. Who...
Thousands of murderous thoughts flitted through her clever mind, possibilities of who could have done this injustice to her. Her face suddenly snapped toward the mountain of ice looming before her. Icecrown Glacier. A psychotic scowl covered her face as possibilities of punishments for the perpetrator of this crime raced through her head, imagining the pain and suffering she could inflict.
Maiev took a step toward the Glacier, followed by another, more intent step. He who ad denied her of her obsession would pay dearly. Without a last look at Illidan and her jaw firmly set, Maiev began trekking up the path to the spire. She had noticed a trail of footprints and followed them with renewed vigor, knowing who they belonged to.
Murderer...
She tasted the word, trying it on her tongue. No one escaped the justice of a night elf Warden, especially not Maiev. Especially not when it involved her personal interest and anger. She could feel her fingertips tingling with rage, the snow melting before it fell on her determined form as she began up the slope.
Revenge...
It was her trademark and she intended to keep it.
---
Behind and unbeknownst to her, the pale form half-covered in snow began to stir. His chest began the regular rising and falling of a live being, his fingers clenching and unclenching, checking for frostbite and frozen appendages. A shake of his head caused his silken waterfall of hair to ripple. Illidan rose, looking out and away from Icecrown Glacier.
I will kill Arthas.
He fingered the gash down his chest and looked down at the fading pool of blood in the snow. He chuckled mirthlessly. If not for the taint of Frostmourne, Arthas would be lying in his own pool of blood at the moment, but he would not be getting up.
A second, smaller set of footprints and a disturbance of the snow caught his "eyes." The trail glowed a bright green among the grey and white of the snow. He turned toward the Glacier and saw a brightly glowing figure marching determinedly up it.
Illidan's heart sank. Maiev...
He did not want to admit he cared. A battle raged inside his head, common sense battling the urge to follow her, to tell her to turn back or fight beside her, to...
He shook his head. Such thoughts had no place in his mind. He simply could not care for someone at this point. It could not be allowed.
Still...
He knew how she felt. She was marching for him. He knew underneath all the suffering she caused him that she had a burning passion for him. And he knew that she knew that he returned the feeling.
They would have made one hell of a pair, under normal conditions.
The past 10,000 years in her "care" had given them a link. They had been together and would remain that way. He had been trying to run from it, but knew she would catch up eventually. Now it was his turn to catch up. Though he risked both returning to his prison and the ever-possible death by chasing her, they would be together no matter what. And that was what they both wanted, no matter what either of them said.
Illidan sighed and put his battling thoughts to rest. Picking up his warblades and stretching his muscles, a grin came across his face as he began up the slope after his Watcher.
---
Where is he...
Maiev shivered as she wrapped her cape tightly around her, but still held her head high.
Why must it be so cold...
The wind whistled as it blew swiftly past her sharp and shining chak-ram.
I must continue the hunt... Do not give up, woman...
The frozen winds of Northrend tore at Maiev Shadowsong's prominent figure on the icy plain. She tried her best to ignore it, her mind focused on other tasks, but she lacked insulation and the proper attire for such weather, and continued to shiver, a slave to the unrelenting winter blasts as she was to her work.
The Warden was alone, something she had become accustomed to in her long time of being, something she was actually comfortable with. Her small posse of Watchers had either returned back to the forests of Kalimdor or had been ordered to stay at certain points on the journey here to function as guards and spies. Though she wouldn't have minded watching someone else suffer through the cold beside her for a distraction, she wanted to press on in her search for The Betrayer alone.
A brief mental picture floated through her head, making her pause in mid- trudge. Illidan Stormrage. A fine example of a night elf and demon hunter gone wrong. He had the sculpted body of a god and the intentions of a mad demon. He had betrayed their race and escaped his prison of 10,000 years. He was a criminal on the run.
Maiev absolutely adored him.
Her position as a Warden and a hand of justice forbade it, but Maiev, as a night elf and not a Watcher, felt more for him than anyone else she had ever known. A good part of it was hate, another a maddening lust, but she knew deep down that she held utter respect and love for him. After all, she hadn't spent his entire prison term with him for nothing. Those 10 millenia alone with him in a cave had earned him a high title of honor in her mind. Now that he had escaped, it was her job to find and detain him, and throw him back in his cell so she could spend more time with him.
She never told him outright, but she was sure he knew. For the first time in her life, she cared, personally, for someone, and it was he.
An especially nasty gust almost whirled her completely around in her tracks. Maiev curled her lip upward and forced herself forward, her face contorted into a twist of determination underneath her snow-flecked helmet.
You know I'm coming, you rogue. Where are you...
A small patch of color amid the white attracted her attention in the distance. Hunching over to protect more against the wind, Maiev stumbled through the snow toward the spot, intent to find out what it was. She knew Illidan had come this way; she knew of his intentions on coming to this wretched place, the frozen throne of the infamous but (thankfully) imprisoned Lich King. He had been running here along, running from her but leaving distinct clues of his direction in his wake, all of which she was sure were left for her to find and follow.
His feelings toward her had also been unspoken, but she imagined that he felt about the same as she.
Illidan...
Her breath catching in her throat, Maiev neared the brilliant patch of color, which turned to red the closer she came. She could see a crumpled body in a pool of what she assumed was blood, contorted in a position of death. She blocked out the cold and began pushing through the snow as fast she could.
Two spiraled demon horns poked up from the pale purple body, tattered wings splayed upon the ground.
Maiev heart almost stopped. Oh, God.
Illidan Stormrage lay motionless on the snow, white powder already beginning to cover his thick muscled chest. Maiev lost all sense of her surrounding and dove towards the body, nails clawing for the skin she had been longing to touch once more. He was cold to the touch, but warmth lingered in a few places on his body, as if he had not been here only a few moments before.
Maiev felt a sting in her eyes as they traveled up the long, clean cut on his chest.
My heart...
Removing the sharp armor on her hands and fingers, Maiev traced the wound with a lacquered nail, taking in every detail on the still body with narrowed eyes.
I will not cry.
It was a mark made by a sharp blade, not all that deep but most likely tainted in some way. Illidan would probably be standing otherwise, unhindered by such a superficial injury, and most likely cursing, for some reason or another.
A cold tear made its way down her smooth cheek, pausing only a moment on her jawbone before dropping to the demon hunter's flesh and freezing fast to it. Maiev's eyes closed for a moment, taking in the entire scene, and glad again that no one was with her. She crawled up against his torso and wrapped one of his arms around her as she huddled on his chest and let rare tears fall onto his corpse. What could she do now? Her love and hate and target all the same, lying here dead, slowly freezing to a shard of ice here on the frozen wasteland of Northrend. The whole impact of it hit her at once and she collapsed on his body, sobbing for all she was worth.
Her nails dug into his skin for the thousandth and final time, desperately trying to find some sort of life in him to grasp and hold onto, but it slipped away from her reach. Her hands found his face and caressed it, running her fingers over the pale lips that had touched her and she had touched, the lips that had excited and enticed her countless times. Lips that had spoken poison and sugar to her over the past 10,000 years. She hauled her body up and pressed her own silken lips to his in a gentle kiss, wishing there was a response.
But there wasn't.
Maiev found herself staring at the dark blindfold that graced his face and reached her it. Slowly, her hands pushed it up and away from his unseen and closed eyes. She gently pried open one of his eyes, finding only bloodshot white. She stared into his eye for a moment, sniffing, before promptly removing herself from the body and standing.
Her wet eyes narrowed. Who...
Thousands of murderous thoughts flitted through her clever mind, possibilities of who could have done this injustice to her. Her face suddenly snapped toward the mountain of ice looming before her. Icecrown Glacier. A psychotic scowl covered her face as possibilities of punishments for the perpetrator of this crime raced through her head, imagining the pain and suffering she could inflict.
Maiev took a step toward the Glacier, followed by another, more intent step. He who ad denied her of her obsession would pay dearly. Without a last look at Illidan and her jaw firmly set, Maiev began trekking up the path to the spire. She had noticed a trail of footprints and followed them with renewed vigor, knowing who they belonged to.
Murderer...
She tasted the word, trying it on her tongue. No one escaped the justice of a night elf Warden, especially not Maiev. Especially not when it involved her personal interest and anger. She could feel her fingertips tingling with rage, the snow melting before it fell on her determined form as she began up the slope.
Revenge...
It was her trademark and she intended to keep it.
---
Behind and unbeknownst to her, the pale form half-covered in snow began to stir. His chest began the regular rising and falling of a live being, his fingers clenching and unclenching, checking for frostbite and frozen appendages. A shake of his head caused his silken waterfall of hair to ripple. Illidan rose, looking out and away from Icecrown Glacier.
I will kill Arthas.
He fingered the gash down his chest and looked down at the fading pool of blood in the snow. He chuckled mirthlessly. If not for the taint of Frostmourne, Arthas would be lying in his own pool of blood at the moment, but he would not be getting up.
A second, smaller set of footprints and a disturbance of the snow caught his "eyes." The trail glowed a bright green among the grey and white of the snow. He turned toward the Glacier and saw a brightly glowing figure marching determinedly up it.
Illidan's heart sank. Maiev...
He did not want to admit he cared. A battle raged inside his head, common sense battling the urge to follow her, to tell her to turn back or fight beside her, to...
He shook his head. Such thoughts had no place in his mind. He simply could not care for someone at this point. It could not be allowed.
Still...
He knew how she felt. She was marching for him. He knew underneath all the suffering she caused him that she had a burning passion for him. And he knew that she knew that he returned the feeling.
They would have made one hell of a pair, under normal conditions.
The past 10,000 years in her "care" had given them a link. They had been together and would remain that way. He had been trying to run from it, but knew she would catch up eventually. Now it was his turn to catch up. Though he risked both returning to his prison and the ever-possible death by chasing her, they would be together no matter what. And that was what they both wanted, no matter what either of them said.
Illidan sighed and put his battling thoughts to rest. Picking up his warblades and stretching his muscles, a grin came across his face as he began up the slope after his Watcher.