Auriana
For a lamentably brief moment, Auriana found herself weightless as she fell; debris from the ruined floor raining down all around her. It was a strange, otherworldly feeling, which ended all too quickly as she slammed into the inky black pool hidden beneath what now remained of the arena. The force of the impact and the icy cold was enough to drive the air from her lungs as she plunged deep into the water, and for a second she almost blacked out from the shock.
Breathe!
Auriana might have simply drifted off into oblivion, if not for the deeply instinctual, animal part of her brain screamed at her to fight, to force her way back to the surface, and she kicked out with limp, shaking legs. The movement was not much, weighed down as she was by her cloak and skirts, but still she managed to claw her way upwards and take a desperate, gasping for breath the moment she broke the surface. Spots danced before her eyes as cold air flooded her chest and she began to splutter and cough, though she supposed it was a damn sight better than drowning.
Unfortunately, her respite was only momentary.
She grunted in pain and surprise as a small piece of wood crashed into her left shoulder, and she tilted her head back to peer into the darkness above. It was difficult to see, but it appeared that the floor had not collapsed in its entirety, and there was still a great deal of debris threatening to fall into the water below. It also appeared that the explosion had damaged the rock beneath the arena, and already she could see bits of the strata crumbling away.
It was then that Auriana belatedly remembered that she had not been alone when she had plunged into the pool, and she twisted frantically in the water as she sought the Horde Warchief.
"Vol'jin?" she called, her urgent cry echoing off the high rock walls of the cavern. "Vol'jin!"
Was he unconscious beneath the water? If he had sunk, she knew, she wouldn't have a snowball's chance in the Firelands of pulling him to the surface. She guessed he outweighed her by at least a hundred and fifty pounds, and even if she hadn't been encumbered by her skirts and her own injuries, dragging him to the surface would have been a task far beyond her. A sick, panicky feeling arose in her throat as she searched for any sign of him; the slightest ripple or bubble that might indicate that he was still alive...
Auriana breathed a shaky sigh of relief as she finally found him, sprawled upon the bank on the opposite side of the pool. Vol'jin's body was only half out of the water, his left leg splayed and twisted awkwardly to one side, but from what she could see he was at the very least still breathing. The dim light made it difficult to tell whether he was conscious, though if he had passed out, Auriana was very grateful that he had seen fit to drag himself out of the water first. As it was, she was finding it rather difficult to stay afloat in her heavy woollen dress, and it was with great effort that she slowly began to drag herself through the water to Vol'jin.
Crossing the length of the pool proved to be a harrowing affair. Auriana's bruised shoulder twitched painfully with every stroke, and more than once she was forced to dive or roll to the side to avoid a falling piece of debris. She found herself struggling to move forwards whilst trying to look up over her shoulder to check for falling wood and stone for above, but after several minutes of awkward, one-armed swimming, she at last managed to clamber, sopping and exhausted, from the pool.
"Vol'jin?"
Ignoring her own aches and pains, Auriana moved immediately to his side, and reached out to press her fingers into the juncture of his neck. His skin was uncomfortably cold and damp, and his left leg badly mangled, though she could still make out the faint thrum of his heartbeat against her fingers. Unconscious, yes, but alive, and alive was all that mattered.
Groaning, Auriana sat back on her heels and closed her eyes in a vain attempt to stop the room from spinning. Her forehead throbbed painfully, and while she was fairly sure she was not seriously injured, she could already tell that she would have some spectacular bruising. She was also wet and shivering, which didn't help, though oddly she was not quite as cold as she might have otherwise expected to be.
Auriana sat silently at Vol'jin's side for a few moments while she caught her breath, when a sudden loud crack from above reminded her that they were still very much in danger. She looked up, and let out a surprised yelp as a boulder the size of a draft horse calved off from the ceiling and came crashing down. Fortunately, in this instance, it landed a good ten feet away, but she knew that they might not be so lucky a second or a third time.
"Damnit!" she hissed, immediately springing back to her feet.
She reached down to grab Vol'jin by the scruff of his tunic, and gave him a none-too-gentle shake. They needed to find cover, and soon, and they could not do so if he were unconscious.
"Vol'jin!" she shouted, as the rumbling overhead intensified. "Get up! We need to move."
After what seemed like an eternity of tugging and prodding, the Warchief finally opened his eyes. He was clearly dazed, though his blank expression soon turned to one of alarm as he took stock of their situation, and he struggled awkwardly to regain his feet. Auriana helped as best she was able, tossing one of his arms over her shoulders and leaning back in an attempt to counterbalance his weight. He was so heavy that he almost knocked her over, but with some judicious wriggling, and a little luck, she managed to get him upright.
"In there!" she hollered, pointing to a small opening in the side of the rock wall about forty feet away.
It wasn't pretty, but somehow they managed to limp their way across the cavern as rocks and debris rained down all around them. The thunderous sound of cracking rock overhead chased them as they ran; the sound echoing so loudly in the cavernous space that it sounded as if the entire Icecrown glacier were about to fall off into the sea. Auriana took quite a few hits to her shoulders and back, and she was well and truly battered by the time she and Vol'jin staggered into the relative shelter of a small tunnel.
Unfortunately, things inside the tunnel were only marginally better. The walls trembled ominously, shearing off small chunks of rock with alarming regularity. It was not pitch black, at least, though visibility was still very poor. The tunnel was also not especially large, and while Auriana was not bothered, thanks to her small stature, Vol'jin was forced to bend almost in half in order to fit.
Auriana also soon realised that the tunnel was not nearly as safe as she had hoped. The opening was just as unstable as the area outside, and she watched in horror as larger and larger rocks began to fall. Her view of the cavern beneath the arena was rapidly obscured as the ceiling collapse accelerated, and as much as it pained her to surrender their only connection to the world above, she knew they had to keep moving.
Auriana's battered shoulders protested as she tightened her grip on Vol'jin's arm and dragged him deeper into the darkness. He did not resist, and after about ten feet they found themselves standing in a small cave that wasn't all that much larger than the tunnel through which they had emerged. The rumbling behind them continued unabated, and it was only after the tunnel had completely collapsed, mere seconds after they had escaped, that the earth stilled, and everything at last went quiet.
"Varian…"
Panting, Auriana placed her spare hand against the thick stone barrier now separating her from any hope of rescue, as if she could almost feel him reaching out to her from the other side. She had seen real, unguarded fear in his eyes in the second before the floor had collapsed - and she could hardly blame him. She and Vol'jin had been tremendously lucky to survive the fall, and now it seemed that they might be trapped beyond rescue. At a rough estimate, several tonnes of rock now separated them from the cavern beneath the arena, and she feared that they would succumb to exposure long before it was cleared.
Auriana was not one to give up so easily, however, and she forced herself to focus on the issue of their more immediate survival, starting with Vol'jin. She genuinely tried to lower the Warchief gently to the ground, but his weight was too much for her in her weakened state, and she more or less dropped him. He let out a soft grunt of pain as he hit the floor, though he made no direct protest. Instead, he simply closed his eyes, and leaned his head back against the wall with a low, protracted groan.
For her part, Auriana remained standing, so that she might take better stock of their circumstances. The cavern they were in was dank and dark, though on the bright side, it appeared to open up at the end of a tunnel about twenty or thirty feet away. The faint light source she had noticed earlier seemed to be coming from that direction, which suggested at least the possibility of a way out… or, alternatively, the presence of chittering nerubians seeking prey.
Pushing that particular thought to the side, at least for the moment, Auriana then reached out for her powers, only to find that they were still tantalisingly out of reach. The dampening field held in full effect, even down here, which meant that a quick teleportation spell was out of the question. She hoped that someone up above would have the sense to temporarily disable the field long enough for her to open a portal, but for the time being, at least, they were well and truly stuck.
"Well, at least it ain't as cold as I expected," Vol'jin remarked, his quiet voice cutting through Auriana's troubled thoughts.
She turned to face him, and frowned.
"No, it's not…" she murmured, realising that such a fact may have been more important than she had first thought.
At the very least, it meant that they wouldn't immediately freeze to death, though their wet clothes would still present something of a problem. She reached out, and laid a hand on the nearest rock wall. It was cool to the touch, but not nearly as icy as she might have otherwise feared, considering they were trapped beneath the surface of a great glacier.
"How is dat possible?"
Auriana bit her lip.
"I'm not sure…" she murmured. "Although… the nerubian civilisation was quite advanced; presumably they had a means of heating their cities. Magic, perhaps, or maybe they used some kind of geothermal energy, like the dwarves do in Ironforge. If there was a city around here, we might be benefiting from some of the residual heat."
She rapped her nails thoughtfully against the wall, and glanced back down the tunnel towards towards the faint light source glimmering in the distance.
"Warchief… will you be alright if I leave you here for a bit? I'm going to take a look around." She shrugged. "Who knows, I might find something to help us."
"I'll be fine, mon. I promise not ta run away."
The troll's face was barely visible in the low light, but Auriana thought she saw the barest hint of a smile cross his face as he nodded towards his injured leg.
"I won't be long," she assured him.
Auriana kept one guiding hand on the wall as she made her way through the tunnel, careful not to trip over the hem of her dress. She had come dressed for a casual stroll around the Tournament, not a spelunking expedition, and she growled in frustration every time her soaking wet skirts wrapped about her ankles or caught against the rock wall. Her boots, at least, were relatively sturdy, though with a higher heel than she would have preferred in the circumstances.
Nevertheless, Auriana managed to make her way through the tunnel without falling flat on her face, and she gasped as she stepped out onto a narrow rock ledge perched above a giant, cavernous abyss. The rocky ceiling overhead sparkled with icy stalactites, while the pit below was alive with a wide variety of bioluminescent plants and mushrooms. Iridescent wefts of spider silk covered the walls, and the entire space seemed to writhe and pulse in a way that made the hair on the back of Auriana's neck stand up.
Aside from the faintly glowing plantlife, she could also see a number of strange, incandescent egg-like structures lining the path that led down into the pit. Each appeared to be about two feet high, with a honeycombed outer shell and an almost-firelike orange light burning within. The light they produced was not nearly as strong as a flaming torch or a witchlight, though probably bright enough for a civilisation of subterranean spiders - and more than enough for Auriana's purposes. With a proper light, she could tend to Vol'jin's wounds, and with any luck prevent him from bleeding out before they were rescued.
The path ahead split into two - one path that sloped slightly upwards and to the left, and another that bent around a corner and disappeared into the pit. Auriana went down, forcibly ignoring the prickling sensation at the base of her skull as she made her way carefully along the path. She was not usually in the habit of ignoring her instincts, but in this case she felt the reward was worth the risk. Vol'jin needed her help, and she would be damned if the Warchief of the Horde was going to die on her watch.
As perilous as the path looked from above, it was actually quite easy to navigate. It made sense, of course, given the path had been carved for and by beings far larger than Auriana herself, and it took her only about five minutes to make her way down to the closest glowing egg-thing. Up close, it looked uncomfortably organic - slathered in ropy membranes and some sort of thick, gelatinous goo that Auriana didn't want to think about all too much. Despite its disconcerting appearance, however, it was nevertheless bright and oddly warm to the touch, and that was all she really needed.
Unfortunately, removing the strange thing proved to be a far more difficult task than finding it. Its base was firmly secured to the rock, and it would not be easily pried loose. Under normal circumstances, Auriana would have attempted to cut it free, but as per Tournament rules, she was not carrying a single weapon - not even the slender little boot knife that she typically kept on her person at all times.
She pinched the bridge of her nose in irritation. It hurt to think, though even if she hadn't been currently experiencing a pounding headache, she wasn't sure she would have been all that much more inspired, with no magic, tools, or weapons at her disposal. Unless...
There was a small crevice in the rock behind the egg-light. It was not at all large enough to accommodate a man the size of Varian, or a troll like Vol'jin, but for once, it seemed, Auriana's small stature put her at a distinct advantage. She wedged her back into the crevice and braced her arms against the wall, before contracting her stomach muscles and pulling her legs up to her chest. She then kicked out as hard as she could, aiming her boots squarely at the base of the egg-light where it was anchored to the rock.
Auriana's first strike did very little damage, though her second and third thrusts were far more effective in shifting the thing off its base. The action was tiring, but she figured that it would only take two or three more solid kicks to work it loose. Just as she coiled her legs for the fourth kick, however, she was distracted by a faint rustling sound from somewhere deep in the pit.
She immediately ceased moving, and instinctively held her breath. With her poor hearing, Auriana wasn't entirely sure what she had heard - or even whether she had heard anything at all - but she decided that it was better to be safe than sorry. She lowered her boots to the floor and waited, awkwardly half-wedged within the wall, as she strained to hear any sound that might indicate that she was not alone.
After a few minutes of silence, however, Auriana began to think that she was going mad… that is, until she heard the sound once again, and clearer: a faint scritch scratch of far too many segmented limbs sliding over one another beneath the weight of a huge thorax.
Nerubians.
Auriana immediately pushed herself into the crevice as far as she could go; sucking in her stomach and folding her arms in an attempt to make herself as small as possible. She couldn't hope to outrun the nerubians if they found her, and nor could she hope to fight. Her best chance, then, was to hide, and hope that they passed by without finding her.
What followed was perhaps the most nerve-wracking five or so minutes of Auriana's life. The once-faint rustling grew louder and louder, and as the nerubians grew closer she could also hear them communicating with one another in a series of guttural clicks. She did not speak nerubian, of course, but she could tell from the agitated pitch of their chitters that they had sensed something amiss.
Auriana then just about fainted when a long, segmented leg reached out to touch the wonky egg-light, and it took every last bit of control she possessed not to instinctively bolt from her hiding place. Her heart was beating so loudly that she was certain it could be heard all the way to Stormwind, and she was starting to feel light headed from the lack of oxygen. Still, she never blinked, her eyes remaining firmly fixed on the spidery leg as it gently prodded the egg-light. An intense, chirruping argument followed, before the unsettling leg finally withdrew, and the nerubians began to slowly make their way back down the path the way they had come.
Just to be sure, Auriana counted to one hundred before she very carefully extricated herself from her hiding spot and peered around the natural corner made by the crevice. It took her a second, but then she spotted them - two huge nerubian warriors making their way back down the path. The chitinous rub of their many legs echoed up through the cavern; the already disturbing sound eerily amplified in a way that made Auriana wince. She wasn't particularly bothered by insects, but there was something about the way that the nerubians moved that was distinctly unnerving, and she watched them hawkishly until they vanished into the darkness below.
The moment they had truly disappeared, Auriana delivered one final, desperate kick to the egg-light, and at long last knocked it free. In fact, she kicked it so hard that it almost rolled off the edge, and it was only thanks to her naturally fast reflexes that she managed to catch the damn thing. Fortunately it was a lot lighter than it looked, if a little… sticky… and Auriana was able to lift it with little effort. Its strange ovoid shape made it a little unwieldy to carry, but somehow she managed, and hurried back up the path towards the cave as fast as she was able.
"Yer Majesty?"
Vol'jin called out as Auriana staggered back inside; the edginess in his voice plain to hear. For all he knew, she was a hungry spiderlord come to finish him off, and he had no real way to defend himself.
"It's me," she assured him quickly, taking a few deep, steadying breaths. "We're safe. At least for now."
She placed the stolen light down on the ground before them, ensuring it was securely wedged between two rocks so that it wouldn't roll away. It had faded slightly in the time Auriana had taken to carry it back back up to the shelter of their little cave, but it was thankfully still bright enough that she could now see more than half a foot in front of her own face.
"What be dat?" Vol'jin asked, leaning forward to study the egg-light with interest.
"Honestly, I have no idea. Some sort of light, though whether it's magical or bioluminescent I'm not sure. I didn't really want to touch it all that much…"
"Probably for da best," Vol'jin agreed.
He leaned his head back against the wall once more, and let out a low, shaky sigh as he closed his eyes. His skin was not quite as vibrantly blue as it normally was - though, admittedly, that might have had more to do with the poor quality of their light source than any medical ailment. Still, he didn't exactly look well, and Auriana feared that his condition would only worsen the longer they were trapped.
"May I take a look at your leg?" she asked, gesturing.
Vol'jin nodded.
Auriana crouched down at his side, and very carefully peeled back the ruined scraps of his shin guard to reveal the nasty gash beneath. Troll blood was darker and stickier than human blood, and Vol'jin had already bled enough to soak through the leather. On the brighter side, the wound was not too deep, though it was ragged, and contaminated with a number of wooden shards. Auriana didn't have any water on hand - or anything else, really - though she knew she would have to do her best to clean the wound lest it fester or continue to bleed. Vol'jin was tough and resilient, but even he was not immune to the effects of shock and blood loss.
"Warchief… I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to prod at your wound a bit," she murmured. "I can't leave it like this…"
"Do what ya must," Vol'jin acquiesced.
His voice was even, and he never so much as opened his eyes, though Auriana still paused a moment to give him a chance to refuse before she set to work trying to extract the wooden shards from his flesh. She moved slowly, carefully, but even then Vol'jin inhaled sharply in pain as she extracted the first splinter. He didn't move, thankfully, but pain was written into every shadowed line of his face.
"Nah, don't… don't stop..." the troll grunted, when she instinctively pulled back. "Tell me… what… what did ya find in da tunnels?"
Auriana understood his need to talk, having often been in a similar position herself. Talking gave him something to focus on aside from the wound in his leg, and without such a distraction, she knew all too well that the pain could quickly become overwhelming.
"Well, we're going to have to be very careful," she said quietly, as she began to work a second splinter from his calf. "I was right; there's some sort of nerubian settlement not too far below us. I saw a patrol."
"And did dey see you?"
Even in great pain with his leg torn open, Vol'jin was still sharp.
"No. Or at least, I don't think so."
Auriana sighed. She was fairly certain she hadn't been seen, but there was always the chance the nerubians possessed some sort of extrasensory abilities that would have allowed them to detect her. After all, she was hardly an expert in their biology.
"And I take it dere be a reason ya haven't teleported us out of here yet?"
Auriana nodded despondently.
"I tried," she confirmed. "The dampening field is still in full effect, even down here."
She sighed, and brushed an irritable lock of still-wet hair from her eyes. She understood the importance of the dampening field as it pertained to the safe and smooth operation of the Tournament, but being unable to touch her magic whenever she wanted was undeniably frustrating - particularly when she was trapped in a collapsing tunnel with an injured Warchief in close proximity to a city filled with giant, aggressive spider-people.
"Why would dey not lower da field?" Vol'jin wondered, shifting his weight ever so slightly as Auriana removed a third splinter. "Do ya tink dat dey tink we be dead?"
"I'm not sure. I mean, even if they did… why not lower it just in case?" she mused worriedly. "Varian, at least, would want to know for sure..."
Varian.
Auriana looked upwards, as if she could possibly see through tonnes of rock to the surface above. She did not believe that he would ever give up on her. They had admittedly butted heads a few times throughout the Tournament so far, as they struggled to adjust to life as newlyweds in front of the entire world, but she could not imagine him leaving her die without exhausting every possibility for rescue. Which meant that there had to be another explanation…
"I wonder if the field was damaged somehow…" she whispered, more to herself than to Vol'jin.
"Hmm?"
"Dampening fields are made using powerful runic magic," she said, more loudly. "But if those runes were damaged by the explosion… it could be that the reason they haven't lowered the field is because they can't."
Auriana had never been involved in the construction of a dampening field herself, but she knew the theory - and silently kicked herself for not seeing the problem sooner. Perhaps she had taken a harder hit to the head than she had originally thought.
"Dat would make more sense, at least," Vol'jin agreed. "Though I still don't understand why we be affected by da field so far underground."
"That's by design, actually. Do you know much about arcane magic?"
"Very little," Vol'jin admitted.
Auriana would have been surprised if he had answered in the affirmative. Despite the abundance of arcane magic on Azeroth, few people truly understood its mysteries. Vol'jin was also a troll, and while troll magi were not unheard of, as a general rule they tended to prefer nature and voodoo magics.
"Not to get too technical, but shapes and geometry… sort of… uh... matter... in magic," she said, sketching a loose triangle in the air with her left hand. "As does symmetry. Have you ever wondered why runes are almost always inscribed in circles? It's because circles are one of the most powerful magical shapes. Perfectly symmetrical, with no sharp corners to disrupt the arcane flow."
"Da dampening field is spherical," Vol'jin realised, quickly catching on.
"I wasn't actually there when the Kirin Tor made the thing, but I would think so, yes. That's how I'd do it, in any case," Auriana confirmed. "To make it as strong and stable as possible, the Kirin Tor would have most logically have defined the shape of the field itself to be a perfect sphere. Especially if they used the Antonidan method of positive-coefficient rune inversion when defining the field parameters, as opposed to the Arrexian… which, given that Jaina led the construction efforts, seems likely…"
"Da field has ta be equally as long over the vertical axis as da horizontal," Vol'jin surmised simply.
Auriana glanced up to find him staring back at her with an inscrutable expression; his head tilted slightly to one side. The dim light in the tunnel gave his eyes a rather sinister bloodred gleam, but she could have sworn that there was the hint of an amused smile pulling at his tusks.
"I… I'm sorry," she said, flushing. "I can get a bit carried away when talking about magic. Though in my defense, I'm not nearly as bad as Khadgar or Jaina."
She ducked her head awkwardly, and turned her full attention back to the task of cleaning Vol'jin's leg.
"Don'tcha worry, Ya Majesty," he assured her, his deep voice warm. "I have seen ya as a warrior and a leader, but it be a pleasant ting ta see ya as a scholar, as well. Ya magic is so explosive, I tink sometimes people forget dat ya got quite da mind behind all dat raw strength."
"I… I'd hardly call myself a scholar, but… thank you," Auriana murmured, her blush deepening at the unexpected praise. "Really, I… um… that's very kind of you…"
She had never been very good at accepting compliments, even from Varian, and while she was grateful, she was also glad when Vol'jin did not continue to flatter her further. Instead, he simply nodded in acknowledgement of her thanks and rolled out his shoulders, before settling back into perfect stillness so that she could finish her work.
"How big do ya reckon da field is?" he asked, smoothly changing the topic to spare her any further discomfort.
"Ah… about two miles wide? Perhaps a touch more, to encompass the entire grounds and then some?" Auriana said, trying to picture the Tournament in her mind's eye. "If the midpoint of the field on both axes is located somewhere in the arena, we might have to go almost a mile deep to outrange it."
"Dat's a bit inconvenient," Vol'jin observed drily.
Auriana snorted.
"I don't think the Kirin Tor built the ward expecting people to fall through the floor..."
She pulled the final splinter from Vol'jin's leg and set it aside, before lifting the hem of her skirts so that she could tear off a piece of fabric for a makeshift bandage. The wound was not perfectly clean, by any stretch of the imagination, but it looked a damn sight better than it had before she had started.
"I mean, it might not go that deep," she added thoughtfully. "It's more likely that the midpoint of is located somewhere high over the arena, to maximise coverage in the air while still providing some protection from interference from below."
"But we have no real way of knowin'," Vol'jin sighed.
"No. We don't. I'd feel it if we were close, but that's about all we've got to go on."
Auriana finished tying off the bandage and sat back with a huff. She had been careful in her work, but some of the Warchief's dark blood stained her fingers, and she spent several minutes wiping her hands off on what was left of her hem. She was now satisfied that he wouldn't bleed out overnight, though she wanted to get him to a healer sooner rather than later.
"So… if we can't go down, then we'll have to go sideways; outrange it that way," she concluded. "That is, assuming the Kirin Tor don't find some way to lower the dampening field in the meantime."
Auriana rose to her feet, and gave Vol'jin a quick once over. He appeared to be a little more alert, thankfully, though he was still pale and clearly in a great deal of pain.
"Do you think you can walk?"
Vol'jin twitched his leg experimentally.
"With help," he concluded, a faint note of irritation in his voice. "I won't be outrunnin' any nerubians, dat's for sure, but… I could walk."
He made an awkward attempt to push himself back up the wall, but Auriana stilled him with a gentle hand upon his shoulder.
"I meant… in the morning. For now, I think we both need to rest."
It wasn't a lie, or an attempt to spare the Warchief's pride. Auriana's head was spinning wildly now that she was back on her feet, and she was finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. To that end, she unclipped her cloak, and settled down on the ground on Vol'jin's right side. The rocky floor was cold beneath her rear, though it was still not quite as icy as she might have expected, and the rough stone walls scraped at her back. Auriana shifted her weight around for a while as she tried to find the most comfortable spot - or rather, the least uncomfortable spot - only to quickly give up when she realised that her efforts were entirely in vain.
It was far from the first time she had slept rough, of course, but that didn't make her feel any better about the situation.
Just once, Auriana, it would be nice if you could make it through a week without being falling into a pit, or being blown up, or ending up sleeping in some dank cave...
With a start, she was starkly reminded of another incident in which she had been forced to seek a makeshift shelter in a cave, and she let out a dry chuckle of amusement at the irony.
"Someting funny?" Vol'jin asked.
"This is how I met Varian, you know," she explained, hesitating for only a moment before laying the cloak over the both of them like a blanket as she curled into Vol'jin's side.
Auriana felt the Warchief briefly tense at the unexpected contact, though he did not pull away. He was pragmatic enough to know that they would be warmer if they huddled together, especially in their dampened clothes, and he even went so far as to place his right arm gingerly about her shoulders. She imagined that the situation was probably just as awkward for him as it was for her, but they needed to do everything they could to keep warm throughout the night if they were to survive.
"Yeah?"
"Strangely enough, yes," Auriana confirmed, gratefully resting her head against the Warchief's ropy bicep. "We were ambushed on alternate Draenor, and I was unable to teleport us home, because… well, it's a long story. We ended up in a cave not unlike this one, both injured."
"Seems like it worked out alright for ya… marryin' King Varian, and all. Can't promise I'll make ya da same offer at the end of our little adventure, though…" Vol'jin said slyly.
Auriana barked out a short laugh; vaguely picturing herself and Vol'jin standing before an altar with an unfeasibly small top hat purchased upon his mohawk, and wondering whether he was picturing something similar. She was well aware of how ridiculous she looked next to Varian, and she could only imagine how she might appear beside Vol'jin, who was at least a foot taller. Not that she would ever in a million years believe that Vol'jin had designs on her, of course, but the image was amusing nonetheless.
A surprisingly companionable silence fell between them, and for a few minutes the only sounds were that of Vol'jin's quiet breathing and the distant sound of dripping water. The Horde Warchief made for a rather comfortable pillow, and the faint shine of the nerubian egg-light bathed their little cavern an oddly cheerful orange glow. In truth, it was almost peaceful, sitting there in the near darkness, and all too soon Auriana felt her eyelids slowly begin to droop...
"Yer Majesty?"
Vol'jin's quiet voice startled Auriana from her drowsy stupor, and she jerked upright in alarm. The pain and exhaustion of the last few hours had rapidly began to catch up with her, and while she had done what was needed in the moment, now that the adrenaline was finally fading from her body she realised just how sore and tired she really was. Nevertheless, she was determined not forsake her duty to protect Vol'jin, and with him, the tenuous pact between the Alliance and the Horde, and her muscles immediately clenched in anticipation of a fight.
"Is something wrong?"
"No, no," Vol'jin said quickly, no doubt able to feel the sudden shift in her attitude. "Just curious, I suppose…when we were up in de arena, how did ya know it was a bomb?"
"Oh." Auriana brushed a loose strand of hair from her eyes, and took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Ah… I've actually seen something similar before, though it was a long time ago..."
She readjusted her position slightly, pulling her booted feet towards her body in an effort to better conserve body heat.
"When I was serving in the Northrend campaign against the Lich King, I spent a few weeks at the Alliance base at Wintergarde," she explained. "The Scourge used to send regular assaults against the Keep from Naxxramas."
Perhaps it was the fact that they were currently trapped beneath a glacier in Northrend, but Auriana could perfectly picture the icy wastes of the Dragonblight and the scores of Scourge assaulting the walls of Wintergarde. It had been a long time since the war against the Lich King, and she had fought in many battles since, but she could still recall the sheer terror she had felt watching the endless waves of ravening undead crashing into the palisade. She had been young and inexperienced, and she knew she had been very lucky to survive her posting. Many others had not.
"There was a dwarf siege engineer at the base by the name of Bolug Thunderfist, though most people just called him 'the Slab'," Auriana recalled. "He was tall for a dwarf, taller than me, and just about equally as wide. He was very good at his job, though more than a little insane. His favourite thing to do was to tap a keg of Barleybrew Scalder, then rig up a few improvised explosives and drop them over the walls onto the attacking Scourge."
"While drunk?" Vol'jin asked incredulously.
"He nearly blew his hand off a few times, but the officers looked the other way so long as he was killing Scourge," Auriana snorted. "Anyway, I don't know anything about how he made the devices, but I saw more than a few up close in the time I was stationed there, and they looked exactly like that bomb up in the arena."
She felt, rather than saw, Vol'jin nod.
"Well, ya probably saved our lives."
Auriana cast a wary eye back down the tunnel to where she had encountered the nerubians, and sighed.
"I'm not sure our situation has improved all that much."
"We be alive. And if be alive, we can fight," Vol'jin countered, his voice soft but determined.
"I hope it doesn't come to a fight. I'm not sure I can take on a nerubian with no magic and no weapons. I was hoping they might have all been destroyed in the war with the Lich King, but it seems a few pockets of them still exist."
While Auriana tried her best to keep her tone neutral, she was unable to prevent a slight snap of irritation from echoing through her words. There were few things she hated more than being without her magic. It made her feel impotent, useless, and not at all like herself. After all, if it were not for the field dampening her powers, their current predicament would be little more than a passing annoyance. They would be already be safe and warm back at the Tournament, with no cold stone or nerubians in sight.
"Eh, don't be promisin' yaself ta Bwonsamdi just yet. We've both had worse," Vol'jin reminded her.
Despite her exhaustion, Auriana's interest was piqued. She was not entirely ignorant about troll society and customs, thanks to her friendship with Zala'din, though their conversations had tended to focus more on matters of strategy and war than on cultural exchange. She could hardly claim any sort of real expertise, however, and she hoped that Vol'jin would not take offense if she were to attempt to learn more.
"Bwonsamdi is your loa?" she asked curiously.
"I be pretty sure he would consider me his den de other way around," Vol'jin chuckled drily, the expansion of his chest jostling Auriana slightly where she sat. "As a Shadow Hunter, I have a connection to many loa, though I do be owing a great deal to Bwonsamdi for helpin' my people recover da Echo Isles from Zalazane."
Auriana nodded slowly, though she still didn't really understand.
"Forgive my ignorance, but… what exactly is a loa?" she asked, feeling somewhat shy. "I've heard the term, obviously, but…"
She trailed off, wondering if Vol'jin would refuse to answer. He seemed faintly surprised by her interest, though thankfully, not entirely unwilling to talk.
"De loa are… spirits, of a sort, though dey can influence da living world," he said slowly. "Dey are a primal force, like da wind, da rain, or da lightning, and dey can be very powerful."
His deep voice thrummed with reverence, and the echo of a distant, ancient power.
"We worship da loa, and in return dey give us dere many blessings. Or, if dey are displeased, dey mete out terrible punishment," he added. "Many loa take on da form of giant animals, like Hir'eek, de bat, or Shirvallah, de tiger."
"They sound a bit like the night elves' Ancient Guardians, like Goldrinn or Malorne," Auriana remarked, recalling some of her history.
"Ah, yes, da Guardians are mighty loa," Vol'jin agreed sagely. "It is said dat Lo'Gosh favours ya husband, much like a loa might favour one of my people."
Auriana was not surprised to learn that the Horde knew of Varian's particular blessings. He was one of the most recognisable men in the world, famed not only as a King, but a warrior without equal. His wolflike cunning and ferocity had been on full display at the Tournament for all to see, and she defied anyone to argue that there wasn't something indescribably special about him.
"He does… although don't ask me to explain how that works, because I have absolutely no idea."
More than once, Auriana had become aware of something deep and ancient stirring in the air when she looked at Varian. There was no rhyme or reason to the timing of it; sometimes it was something subtle in the way he moved, or the way the sunlight caught his hair. But she definitely had felt it - different in timbre and resonance than her own tremendous wellspring of power, though equally strong in its own way.
"I have felt Goldrinn's power about him," she said aloud, "And I know that the wolf's influence makes Varian something more than a normal man, but beyond that…"
She shrugged.
"Do all trolls worship all the loa? Or do they pledge themselves to only one at a time?"
"Only a fool would fail ta show proper deference to a loa, even one dat dey do not worship…" Vol'jin said ominously, "Though ya are right - different tribes tend ta have dere own preferred loa, as do different individuals. While Shadow Hunters call on da blessings of many loa, for example, priests typically dedicate themselves ta only one."
Vol'jin shifted his weight beneath Auriana's head, and she felt a strange ripple of tension roll through his body.
"Families often choose a loa as da patron of dere whole line," he said slowly. "Though it is not uncommon for children ta choose a different path den dere parents. My… my children have never shown Bwonsamdi much favour. He has a certain reputation amongst da trolls… all respect his power, but few are willing ta pledge demselves to da Lord of Graves."
The information about Bwonsamdi was intriguing, but it was far from the most interesting thing Vol'jin had just said, and Auriana blinked, certain she must have misheard.
"I… your… what? Y-you have a child?"
"Children. Three, actually."
Vol'jin spoke with a nonchalance that belied the sudden rigidity in his posture, but Auriana was too dumbstruck for the strangeness of his behaviour to really register. She opened her mouth to speak, then swiftly shut it again. She wasn't quite sure what to do with this new piece of information, or even whether she was still awake and not having a very strange dream. Certainly, if Varian had known the truth, he had never mentioned it - and nor had anyone else she had ever met in either the Alliance or the Horde.
"Three?" she managed finally. "Do they have… I mean, of course they have names, but… what… what are they?"
She had a thousand and one other questions, but that one seemed the most obvious - and probably the safest.
"Dere names are Sen'ga, Mali, and Yenniku," Vol'jin replied, his voice warming in rare pride. "Fine trolls all."
He would make a good father, Auriana thought. At least in her experience, he was compassionate, considered, and consistently fair. Of course, she had no idea what a troll might consider good parenting, nor even whether troll fathers were expected to be involved in the raising of their children. Still, as far as human standards were concerned, she felt that a child could do a lot worse than to be raised by someone like Vol'jin.
"I… I had no idea…" she murmured.
"Few do," Vol'jin admitted. "Even amongst da Horde… I rarely speak of my family. I have no desire ta put dem in danger."
With those words, the strange reticence with which he had first mentioned his children suddenly made a great deal of sense. Auriana had seen first hand how people were all too willing to use Anduin as a pawn to manipulate or threaten Varian, and she could only imagine that there were those in the Horde - and the Alliance - who would take similar steps to influence a Warchief. In admitting that he not only had a family, but cared for them deeply as well, Vol'jin had made himself vulnerable.
"So you have a… a wife, then?" she asked tentatively, unsure of the right word. "A mate?"
"I have had three wives, as you might call them," Vol'jin answered.
"Three?" Auriana repeated. "So you've been divorced?"
"Divorced?" Vol'jin queried, rolling the unfamiliar word over his tongue.
"Um… had the marriage legally dissolved," Auriana elaborated, trying to think of the simplest way to define the term.
"Ah, I see."
Vol'jin paused for a moment to consider the question.
"Trolls - or at least da Darkspear - do not conceive of marriage in da same way as humans do. We have a similar ritual, but dere be no expectation dat a troll union will last a lifetime."
"Why not?"
The question spilled from Auriana's lips before she realised that it sounded rather rude. That had not at all been her intention, but in her current state of tiredness, she was rapidly running out of the mental fortitude required to couch her curiosity in more sensitive terms.
"Why da humans always seem ta think it will?" Vol'jin countered.
Auriana flushed.
"Fair point."
The Warchief reached up with his spare hand to scratch at the juncture where one of his tusks met his upper lip, much like a human or dwarf might scratch at a beard, and let out a thoughtful sigh.
"It be a very old saying amongst my people dat da troll dat greets da sunrise is not da same troll who greets da sunset."
Auriana considered the riddled phrase seriously.
"It's a metaphor," she realised, after a pause, "For change across the lifespan. Who you are when you are young is not necessarily who you are when you are old."
"Right ya are, Yer Majesty," Vol'jin said, nodding his approval. "We figure it be much da same with a mate. Someone who be a good match when ya young may not still be a good match when ya both get older. People grow. Dey change. What dey want changes. What dey need changes."
Auriana had not questioned pledging herself to Varian for the rest of her life, as was required by traditional vows, but she supposed, on reflection, that it was not a realistic aspiration for many people. She was certainly not the same person she had been even a handful of years ago, much less who she had been a decade ago. Frankly, if Auriana had been told as an eighteen-year old woman that she would one day grow up to marry the famously irascible King of Stormwind, she would have just about died of laughter. She wanted him now, desperately, with each and every beat of her heart, but she could not deny that she had undergone great change in her life before coming to that realisation.
"That… makes a lot of sense, actually," she admitted. "So you have multiple wives?"
"Not all at da same time," Vol'jin clarified. "Our mates are called kalar'i, which means… well, I'm not quite sure how ta translate da word inta Common. One pledges ta dere kalar'i in a special ritual in which de union is blessed by da loa. A pairing might last for only a few months, or half a lifetime... each couple be unique. A second ritual marks de end of da relationship, leaving both parties free ta pursue another kalar'i, should dey so desire."
Auriana raised an eyebrow.
"Just like that? No bitterness, or jealousy?"
She couldn't imagine how it might feel to see Varian with another woman. It was hard enough, sometimes, to live in the shadow of Tiffin Ellerian, let alone if Varian ever were to leave her for someone else. She doubted she would take it especially gracefully.
"Da end of a relationship is seen as something to be celebrated, not grieved. Both kalar'i have grown and learned from one another, even if it now be time for dem ta move on." Vol'jin took a deep breath, then added, "In theory, at least. It don't always work dat way in practice."
He gave a rueful chuckle.
"Of course, not all trolls undergo de ritual in dere lifetime. Some will take a single kalar'i for life, much as humans do. Others never take da bond, preferrin' instead ta engage in more… casual relationships."
"So… so you've had three kalar'i," Auriana surmised, doing her level best not to butcher the pronunciation of the Zandali word.
"Yes," Vol'jin confirmed. "My first was Zan'Zara… Zan. She had skin da colour of da mornin' sky on a clear day, and hair like a raging fire. Ta dis day, she's still da most beautiful troll I ever seen… but… crazy…"
"Crazy?"
"She has tried to murder me on at least four separate occasions," Vol'jin explained, sounding surprisingly blasé about the fact that his former lover had made several attempts on his life.
"And yet you married her," Auriana pointed out. "Or… bonded her..."
"Ah... I was young," Vol'jin sighed, sounding almost wistful. "Let's just say I wasn't thinkin' with my head..."
Auriana was suddenly very glad that Vol'jin couldn't see her face, as she was sure she had gone blazing red. Zala'din had implied to her on more than one occasion that troll mating was a rather rough and tumble - if not sometimes downright violent - affair, and she was struggling to picture the normally wily and level-headed Vol'jin lusting after a gorgeous but apparently murderous lady troll.
"Zan bore me my first son, Sen'ga," he added, more seriously.
"Named for your father, Sen'jin," Auriana realised, nodding.
Vol'jin made a soft sound of surprise and appreciation, and Auriana couldn't help but smile to herself.
"What? I do know some things," she teased gently.
"So I see," Vol'jin snorted. "Anyway… my second kalar'i was a shaman, Sha'je. She was very powerful, very clever. We have two children together - my daughter, Mali, and my youngest son, Yenniku."
Now that he was talking, he seemed to find it hard to stop, and Auriana was suddenly struck by the realisation that he must have been incredibly lonely. She certainly was, sometimes, and that was even with Varian and Anduin in her life. Vol'jin had known love, and family, but had put his own feelings and needs aside to do whatever he could to keep them safe. It was possible that this was the first time he had really talked about his family in years. She wasn't sure if he was making the right decision, to maintain such distance from people he clearly loved, though she could not at all fault his sentiment.
"We were a good match in a lotta ways, though I tink I always frustrated her with my lack of ambition."
"Lack of ambition?" Auriana queried. "You're the Warchief of the Horde..."
"I wasn't at da time. And I never asked for it… ya know dat…"
"Nor did I," Auriana muttered.
Even now, lost beneath a glacier, she could feel the weight of the invisible crown of Stormwind bearing down upon her. Vol'jin had once again proven himself surprisingly easy to talk to, but his words abruptly reminded her that she could never for a moment forget who they were. She had come to the Tournament to build bridges, it was true, but in the back of her mind she couldn't help but to wonder how some in the Alliance might perceive their conversation. It had taken a surprisingly personal turn, and while she was grateful to Vol'jin for his trust, a small part of her wasn't sure whether they ought to continue.
"Hmm? What was dat?" he asked, nudging her gently in the back.
"Ah… nothing," she said quickly, pushing her concerns to the side. "What about your third mate? Who was she?"
Vol'jin went very still for a moment, and Auriana distinctly felt the mood in the cave shift.
"Khinja… her name is Khinja…" he murmured. "She and I made our vows before da loa a little while after Deathwing was defeated. I had wanted her for a long time, but I was always off fightin'. I never thought she'd be wantin' me back, but… "
Auriana's head was jostled slightly as Vol'jin's shoulders lifted in a small shrug.
"One night she set me a mating challenge. I won, but she beat me bloody. Told me she needed ta check whether I had rocks in my head, cause she couldn't tink of another reason why I hadn't bonded her yet."
Auriana got the sense that there was something different about Khinja. He had spoken of his other partners with varying degrees of respect and affection, but there was a sense of rawness and real longing in the way he spoke about his third kalar'i that made Auriana think that she was somehow special.
"So you and she are still…?"
"Nah. We ended our relationship before da Darkspear Rebellion. Before da Siege of Orgrimmar."
Vol'jin tried to hide it, but the disappointment in his voice was plain.
"Did you two have... some sort of a falling out?"
"Nothin' like dat. I couldn't risk my family payin' for my treasons. Zan, Sha'je and my children were safely elsewhere, but Khinja… she lives and works in Orgrimmar. Garrosh woulda had her killed," he said, growling softly at the mention of Hellscream's name.
"Treason?" Auriana wondered, surprised that he would think of it as such. "You stood up to a genocidal despot."
There was a part of her that would never forgive the Horde for allowing Hellscream to become what he had, but Vol'jin, at least, had turned against the merciless orc - at great personal cost - and had ignited the Rebellion that had helped to take him down.
"I was attemptin' ta depose a Warchief," Vol'jin said, shaking his head. "Dere are many in da Horde who would still consider dat treason, no matter how justified my actions may have been. It ain't like wit ya High King. A Warchief's word is law, and it be considered da height of dishonour ta take a stand against him."
Aurian frowned as she tried to understand. She was not so arrogant as to presume that the Alliance way of doing things was the only way, but what Vol'jin was describing sounded an awful lot like a dictatorship. Varian held enormous power within the Alliance as High King, but his position was not absolute - the other races of the Alliance were not irrevocably bound to follow his orders, and nor was dissent inherently considered treasonous.
"But you're the Warchief now… it's your word that matters," she argued. "I mean, Thrall very publicly has a wife… children… surely you could have the same?"
"His children have been threatened before, as has his wife. I have seen da toll it has taken on him… and dem," Vol'jin said darkly. "I had de opportunity to hide my family, where he did not. I ain't saying he be wrong ta keep dem by his side - da path of da Warchief be a lonely one - but I couldn't make da same choice."
Auriana felt terrible for him, but as much as she wanted to argue with him further, she could see that his mind would not be easily changed. He had made his choice, and as much as his obvious loneliness pained her, she perfectly understood his reasoning.
"Would you ever… reunite? Complete the ritual again?" she asked quietly, after a brief moment of silence. "Is that even allowed?"
"It is," Vol'jin confirmed, "Though I dunno if she'd have me. It been a long time, and she didn't take it so well when I left. Still…"
He trailed off with a yearning sigh. Auriana did not offer him comfort, not knowing how it might be received, nor even what she might do or say. It was remarkable enough that he was willing to discuss his family life so openly, and she didn't want to press. Instead, she kept her racing thoughts to herself; content to sit in silent contemplation until a rather unexpected question from Vol'jin cut through her thoughtful reverie.
"What about you, eh? Do you intend to bear children for King Varian?" he asked lightly.
Auriana's ears immediately burned hot, and she felt her throat go utterly dry. It was a perfectly reasonable question, given the context of their prior conversation, but it was something that she very much tried to avoid thinking about, and the casual way in which Vol'jin had asked the question had her thoroughly off balance.
"Oh… I… um… well… you see that's… that's a very complicated… complex… uh... complication..."
She spoke so quickly that she soon found herself tongue-tied, and she ended up quite literally choking out the last word. Vol'jin physically winced, and patted her gently on the upper back until she had finally finished spluttering.
"I'm sorry, mon, I take it dat not be somethin' humans typically ask one another," he said apologetically. "I didn't mean ta offend ya. Truthfully… I've not really talked ta many humans. I don't know all dat much about ya culture. Certainly not da specifics."
Auriana shook her head.
"You didn't offend me," she assured him, and it was true. She wasn't offended, merely… thrown. "Really. I mean… it is considered something of a personal question, but… in my case there's a little more to it than that."
"Ya could talk ta me," Vol'jin said hesitantly. "If ya liked."
Auriana considered refusing him. She did not think he would push her if she did, though it seemed unfair to put up her walls when he had taken so many risks to open himself up to her. On the other hand, she could practically hear Mathias Shaw reminding her that he was still a member of the Horde, and that trust had its limits…
"I… Varian is a king," she started slowly, deciding that she didn't care. Peace would not be built on suspicion, and someone had to be prepared to take the first step. "Marrying him made me a queen… and there are many who consider it the duty of a queen to bear her king heirs."
Auriana had been fully aware that marrying Varian came with certain expectations, but even that knowledge had not prepared her for the reality. Whispers and stares often followed her throughout the Keep, and she could hardly miss the way her maids not-so-subtly checked the measurements of her waistline every time she requested a new dress. She believed that marrying him was worth it, of course, but there were certainly aspects of the experience that she would change if she could.
"Varian has always been unusual in that he only has one heir. He was expected to remarry a lot sooner than he did," she continued. "Frankly, if he hadn't met me… I don't think he ever would have. He certainly didn't plan to fall in love with me."
"It not be all dat different amongst trolls, actually," Vol'jin said sympathetically. "De old Zandalari kings used ta have many, many children. It was something of a necessity ta secure a bloodline - assassinations were very common."
Auriana nodded.
"Sadly, humans have come to the same logical conclusion. Varian would never pressure me the way the House of Nobles does, but I've seen how he is with Anduin," she sighed. "Hell, the whole world has seen how he is with Anduin. I think he wants children with me, but I just can't shake the feeling that I wouldn't be very good at it. Being a mother, I mean."
"What makes ya say dat?"
"Parents are supposed to nurture and teach their children. I'm not exactly the nurturing type, and unless my child has a particular interest in killing demons, I'm not sure what else I can teach them."
Auriana had not spent a great deal of time around children, and practically none at all around infants. Child-rearing wasn't exactly a topic on the curriculum in Dalaran, and she had been a frontline commander ever since. Hell, she wasn't even sure if she knew how to hold a baby, let alone do anything else with one.
"And then there's the matter of being pregnant, which is terrifying, and… and… I'm sorry, this is wildly inappropriate..."
She hadn't meant to speak so plainly, but it was the first time she'd ever really given voice to her fears, and the words came tumbling out before she could stop them.
"No, please," Vol'jin said swiftly, his voice intense. "Dat's what we're here for, isn't it? Ta learn, and understand? Ta see dat maybe we're not all dat different after all?"
"I don't think this is what anyone had in mind when they agreed to support the Tournament," Auriana quipped.
She turned her head further into the crook of his arm, and closed her eyes. She hadn't intended to cross the line, but it seemed that her tiredness and the question of children had been gnawing at her a great deal more than she had realised. There had been so much happening around the Tournament that she had been able to easily push all her complicated feelings about being queen to one side… and now she was paying the price, as they came bursting out at what had to be one of the least opportune moments.
"Perhaps not, but dat don't mean it be a bad thing," Vol'jin countered. "If it helps any, I probably told ya a good deal more den I ought ta have, too."
His voice softened, and Auriana could have sworn she felt the arm around her shoulders tighten.
"I take it ya haven't talked ta King Varian about all dis…"
Auriana sighed.
"No, I haven't," she confessed. "I love Varian… and Anduin, and Jaina… but sometimes I'm not sure I can talk to them about this sort of thing. It's… hard."
"Sometimes it be easier ta talk to a stranger dan someone who is close to da issue," Vol'jin said wisely.
"Yes, that's exactly it," Auriana agreed, somewhat surprised that he had so readily understood her concerns. "Though I'm not really sure I'd consider you a stranger at this point."
It was very difficult to feel remote from someone when one was effectively lying in their arms. Vol'jin was Horde, yes, but much like Zala'din, he was a living reminder that the Horde really were just people, with the same kind of needs and hopes and desires as anyone in the Alliance. Auriana could never make peace with someone like Garrosh Hellscream, or Sylvanas Windrunner, but with a Warchief like Vol'jin, she felt like peace might actually stand a chance.
"Hmph. Don't suppose I'd consider ya a stranger either," he concurred.
Silence fell, and Vol'jin's breathing became deeper and more even. Auriana's eyelids had once again grown heavy, but before she allowed herself to drift off into sleep, there was one last thing she needed to say.
"Warchief… Vol'jin… what you've told me tonight… about your children, your family… I know you took a risk telling me those things," she said tentatively. "I would never use that information against you… and nor will anyone else in the Alliance, not so long as I draw breath."
Vol'jin let out a soft sound of acknowledgment and Auriana felt some of the tension that still lingered in his body slip away. She could not see his face, of course, but she imagined that he might even be smiling, and when he finally spoke, his voice was warm.
"I know," he said simply. "Dat's why I told ya. Goodnight… Auriana."
"Goodnight... Vol'jin..."
