So this is kind of a big one! The last chapter in 'Lion's Challenge'... and the chapter that takes my series to 1,000,000+ words overall. Never thought I'd get anywhere close to that when I started out, but... here we are. As always, I am humbled and honestly pretty shocked that this series has gained the following that it has, and I hope everyone who has ever read this piece understands that you have my deepest and sincerest gratitude for choosing to spend your time in my little world.

(And for those who were wondering - keep an eye out for the sequel, 'Lion's Sorrow', coming soon!)

Auriana

Auriana kept her head high and her back straight as she gathered her coat and gloves and stalked from the manor; doing her level best to project an aura of calm command as she made her way over to where Stubborn and the other gryphons were resting beneath the shade of a large oak. Internally, however, she was a mess. She was relieved that Anguile had finally been revealed for the snake he was, of course, though she was less than thrilled by what she'd had to do to secure his confession. She took no pleasure in lying, even if it had been necessary, and as much as she hated to admit it, Anguile's comments comparing her to Katrana Prestor had her extremely rattled. She could tell herself over and over that she had nothing in common with the black-hearted dragoness… but she could not escape the fact that she had used both her position and her power to manipulate and bend Anguile to her will…

Much like Prestor might have done.

The trembling in Auriana's hands became impossible to contain, and her gloves spilled from her hands to the perfectly manicured grass lawn below. She swore.

"Your Majesty? Are you well?"

Auriana glanced over her shoulder to see Ridley standing about three feet away, with Genn and Shaw another few yards behind her. Once again, she was reminded that being royal meant never being truly alone.

Not really, she thought.

"I'm fine," she said aloud.

"I know you well enough by now to know when you're lying, my lady," Ridley countered, tilting her head to one side and cocking her left brow.

Despite herself, Auriana chuckled. "Worth a try."

"The Duke confessed," Ridley pointed out. "Surely that's a good thing?"

Auriana considered her bodyguard thoughtfully. She had no idea how to properly articulate the storm of thoughts inside her head - or even if she wanted to. Ridley was, admittedly, one of the few people in the world she might have considered opening up to… but standing in the idle beauty of Rosendale's gardens after having orchestrated the downfall of one of the most prominent nobles in Stormwind was hardly the time or the place.

"It is. It's just been such a long time coming… it's... a lot to take in," Auriana said - which was true, though something of an equivocation.

She crouched down to retrieve her gloves, then straightened and pulled Stubborn's reins over his head. There would be time for her to reflect later, but right now there was still one last loose end to be tied up before she and her family would truly be safe. She forced all her doubts down somewhere deep inside, and fixed her face in what she hoped was a collected and determined expression.

"Besides, we're not done yet."

"My lady?" Shaw queried, stepping forward as Auriana yanked on her coat and began to fiddle with Stubborn's stirrups. "Where are you going?"

"To the Swamp of Sorrows. Obviously."

"You want to hunt down Thorne," Genn surmised, joining Shaw.

"Our presence here will not go unnoticed by the local townsfolk. I would be shocked if Thorne didn't have informants in the village," Auriana argued. "If we don't move now, he will be long gone by the time we have mustered a force from Stormwind."

She was not at her full strength, but she would be damned if she let Thorne escape to terrorise her people another day.

"We have no idea what we'd be walking into," Shaw countered. "Anguile was hardly specific."

"We could use the gryphons to scout." Auriana sighed, and brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. "Look - I know it's a risk. But I think it's a risk we need to take."

Genn and Shaw exchanged a look.

"What do you propose?" Shaw asked.

Auriana tapped her chin thoughtfully. "How did you get your men here this morning?"

"On foot and horseback, via a portal to Lakeshire," Shaw explained. "Though I didn't bring any mages with me…"

No mages was something of an inconvenience, especially given that Auriana herself was still magically weak, but it was something that she could work around. She nodded, once, and turned rummage through Stubborn's saddlebags. It was standard practice for Alliance field kits to include a map of the local terrain, and Flightmaster Banks was never one to disappoint. She had packed a number of charts covering the entire southern third of the Eastern Kingdoms, from Elwynn Forest all the way down to the Cape of Stranglethorn. Auriana quickly withdrew the scroll she needed and unfurled it, using Stubborn's broad hindquarters as a makeshift table.

"Anguile said that Thorne and his people are here," she said, walking her fingers across the map as Genn, Shaw, and Ridley gathered around. "No doubt using the cave as a base of operations. We can deploy our troops to the Harborage through a portal, then catch them by surprise with a charge through the southern passage here."

"A portal?" Ridley repeated, shooting Auriana a sceptical look. "My lady…"

"I can manage one," Auriana insisted, raising a hand to stave off any further objections. "We don't have enough time to move our troops overland if we want to prevent Thorne's escape."

"King Varian…" Shaw started.

"Isn't here," Auriana reminded him sternly, much as she had Anguile.

She knew she was putting Shaw in somewhat of an awkward position, but she didn't especially care. No matter how tired or discomposed she might have been, she wasn't going to let the chance to catch both Anguile and Thorne pass her by… though she was not so eager for Thorne's blood that she was willing to take unnecessary risks with the lives of her troops.

"As I said… we can use the gryphons to scout the area from above," she added, softening. "If it looks like we're too severely outnumbered, we will call off the attack, and take the chance of bringing in a proper force from Stormwind."

Shaw considered her carefully, staring at her with those bottle-green eyes that seemed as if they could see down into her very soul. Auriana knew that by Shaw's meticulous standards, she was positively reckless, but she hoped that he could see that she was right. They had a limited window of opportunity in which to act, and it was Shaw himself who would bear the responsibility for continuing the hunt, should Thorne once again slip through their fingers.

"As you wish, Your Majesty," he conceded. "I will gather our forces."

Shaw turned away, but had barely made it three yards before Auriana remembered that there was one more thing she needed to do before departing Anguile's estate.

"Wait - do you have the crystal bearing Anguile's testimony?"

"Of course."

Shaw reached into the hidden folds of his leather tunic to withdraw the faintly gleaming talisman, and handed it over to Auriana. She grasped it only briefly, however, before passing it on to Ridley.

"I need you to take this back to Stormwind. Give it directly to Varian, don't let anyone else get their hands on it."

Ridley hesitated, her fingers hovering in the air just short of the crystal.

"And leave you…?" she asked doubtfully. "Couldn't you entrust it to one of Master Shaw's rogues? If you're going after Thorne, I ought to be by your side…"

"We know Thorne has used insiders before," Auriana said, glancing furtively over her shoulder back towards the manor. "You, Genn and Shaw are the only three people here I consider above reproach."

"I made an oath to protect you…"

"And you can do that best by getting this testimony safely to Varian," Auriana insisted, gently but firmly closing Ridley's fingers around the crystal. "We can't risk losing it if the fight in the Swamp gets ugly."

She glanced at Shaw, who nodded his approval. After everything they had been through to obtain Anguile's confession, they could not risk either losing it, or having it fall into the wrong hands. Auriana supposed she could have asked Shaw or Genn to bear the message, but she needed Shaw's experience and leadership in order to successfully assault Thorne's camp, and she didn't feel as if she could rightfully order Genn… thus leaving Ridley as the obvious choice.

"Please."

Ridley let out a reluctant sigh, though she nevertheless accepted the proffered crystal and tucked it carefully into her belt pouch. "I don't suppose there is any version of this plan in which you return to Stormwind while the rest of us go to apprehend Thorne?"

"Have you met me?" Auriana snorted.

Genn hastily smothered a laugh with his hand, and even Shaw looked as if he were fighting back a smile. Ridley's lips twitched.

"You're a very difficult woman to guard, Your Majesty," she said, though her affectionate tone belied her words.

"At least I keep your life interesting," Auriana quipped. "Now, let's see about getting you back to Stormwind…"

She raised her hands, ignoring the sharp pinprick of pain behind her eyes as she called on her magic, only for Ridley to wave her off with a quick shake of her head.

"Don't. Save your strength for where it's needed. I have a gryphon, remember? Not as fast as a portal, but I would rather not chance your magic failing at precisely the wrong moment. Your Majesty."

Auriana appreciated Ridley's willingness to go the long way back to Stormwind. She was right, of course - while Auriana was capable of opening a portal, the fact that she was running on very low magical reserves meant that a spell saved here was a spell that could be put to better use later. She was not accustomed to playing it safe with her magic, but in her current state she could not afford to be frivolous.

"Thank you, Ridley," she relented, with a grim smile. "Fly fast… and stay safe."

"And to you, my lady. May you end this, once and for all."


Shaw's men were swift and efficient, and in less than a quarter hour they were assembled on the lawn in a neat and orderly formation. For her part, Auriana spent the time preparing the portal spell - she had never been to the Harborage herself, and therefore had to complete a series of complex arcane calculations in order to successfully open a hole in the fabric of reality. Failure to do so accurately, of course, would mean an untimely and very painful death for all of them. She also had to make the portal large enough to accommodate the gryphons and the horses, which added an extra layer of complexity to the spell.

Fortunately, casting portals around Redridge was a great deal easier than it was in other parts of the world, given the town's close proximity to the ley line nexus under Karazhan, and the final casting slipped from Auriana's fingers with less difficulty than she had anticipated. It was still not as effortless as a portal spell would have been under normal circumstances, but she was nonetheless able to shake off the painful pressure in her temples as she stepped through the shimmering aperture and out into the oppressive humidity of the Swamp.

The Broken and draenei that inhabited the Harborage were rather surprised to find themselves suddenly put upon by a small army of Alliance soldiers, though were no less welcoming for the fact. They were more than willing to provide what intelligence they could regarding the local terrain, though they knew little about Thorne's base of operations. It was understandably difficult to track the movement of a few dozen individuals through the murky swamp, especially given that the citizens of the Harborage had not even realised there was a rebel base not five miles from their settlement until Auriana and her men had arrived.

It was therefore agreed that Auriana and Shaw would fly out to scout the camp, while Genn remained behind to coordinate the assault. Ordinarily, Auriana quite enjoyed flying, but there was a significant difference between soaring through the clear, lazuline skies of Elwynn Forest and the cloying miasma that was the Swamp of Sorrows. It was hot, and sticky, and Auriana's hair was all but soaked through by the time she and Shaw landed on a small cliff on the northern side of the valley.

The thick, yellow-green haze that blanketed the Swamp made for exceptional cover, and Auriana knew that they would be all but invisible from below. Unfortunately, while the mist was excellent for hiding, it also made it rather difficult to get an accurate read on the state of the camp.

"How many do you count?" Auriana asked, squinting down into the murk.

Her eyesight was good, but she had no doubt that Shaw's was better.

"At least forty. And there's no telling how many are in the caves," Shaw said grimly.

"Can you tell if they're Thorne's men? I don't want to come out swinging against some poor, unsuspecting group of Cenarion druids or something."

While Anguile had sworn on his daughter's life that he was telling the truth about Thorne's camp, Auriana still had some doubts. She was certain it was not an Alliance camp, given her familiarity with all official Alliance deployments across the Eastern Kingdoms and beyond, but that didn't preclude the presence of one of the many other smaller factions on Azeroth.

"No banners, though that's to be expected if they're trying to remain hidden," Shaw reasoned. "They're mostly human, from what I can see, and armed to the teeth. Well defended, too - see the palisades? I think it's safe to say they're mercenaries of some sort, and I doubt it's a coincidence that they're exactly where Anguile said they would be."

"There's more than I expected," Auriana admitted. "Although we have the element of surprise, that should help to even the odds."

"We might be able to do a little more than that…" Shaw regarded her thoughtfully. "I know you're feeling a touch under the weather, but I don't suppose you could conjure a little fire?"

"Fire? Why?"

"Swamp gas," Shaw explained, pointing. "I'd wager those pools down there are rife with it."

Auriana leaned a little further off the side of the cliff. She had to squint, but she could just make out a tell-tale trail of bubbles rippling across the surface of the nearest pool.

"You think it's flammable?"

"Most likely," Shaw said. "We may be at a numerical disadvantage, but if we could ignite the swamp from above…"

Auriana nodded, impressed by his ingenuity.

"I think I could manage that…" she agreed. "Let's get back to the Harborage."

They crept over to the gryphons and took off swiftly and silently, flying a wide loop over the area to ensure they hadn't been spotted, before turning back east towards the Harborage. There, they found Stormwind's forces lined up in a neat formation under Genn's watchful and experienced eye, though he freely ceded command to Shaw upon request. The Spymaster quickly outlined his plan to ignite the swamp to cover the initial charge, along with what he knew of the camp's fortifications and the positioning of the mercenary defenders. Auriana then concluded the briefing by ordering her troops to capture rather than kill wherever possible, though she made it clear that they were not to take undue risks to do so. She wanted Thorne, yes, but not at the cost of more Alliance lives.

Swift and clean, she thought grimly, her heart already beginning to beat faster at the imminent promise of battle. Swift and clean.

As Genn and the SI:7 force finished their preparations and made their way out of the Harborage and out into the Swamp, Auriana and Shaw once again took to the skies. They rose swift and high over the fetid green waters, circling in wide, watchful arcs over the mercenary camp as they waited for the ground troops to begin their charge. Auriana's fingers twitched in eager anticipation on the reins, making Stubborn snort and buck beneath her. She knew she had to be patient - the timing had to be precise, and it naturally took her troops longer to travel overground than through the air - but it was a difficult thing. Her blood was up, dampening her exhaustion and making her feel more vital than she had in days, and she could barely contain her eagerness to get into the fight and have it done with.

After what felt like hours, Auriana finally sighted the single red flare that signalled the start of the ground assault. Ahead of her, Shaw raised his hand in acknowledgement, before he heeled his gryphon into a swooping dive run low over the murky pools.

Trusting that Stubborn would flank Shaw's gryphon in formation, Auriana crouched low over his neck and turned her full attention to her magic. Pain once again pricked behind her eyes as she gathered her power, but she paid it no mind. After all the missteps she had made over the past week, she refused to be the weak link in the plan.

Shaw had asked for fire, and fire he would get.

As Stubborn reached the nadir of his dive and levelled out, Auriana unleashed a series of fire blasts in rapid succession, aiming for the largest pools she could see. All but two hit, and much as Shaw had predicted, the lingering gas ignited. There were no explosions - the gas was not quite so flammable as for that - but a half-dozen towering plumes of flame were nonetheless a worthy distraction.

Panicked shouts echoed through the air as the mercenaries drew their arms and scrambled away from the blazing pools, frantically seeking the source of the fire. At the same time, the ground troops came charging through the treeline, taking full advantage of Auriana's efforts to gain the upper hand in the initial clash. She could not see much more than streaks of green and brown interspersed with blue and silver as Stubborn whipped between the trees at full speed, but she could hear the ringing clash of steel on steel as the two opposing forces came together.

Auriana quickly summoned another burst of magic as she and Shaw came around for a second pass, targeting both the pools and the closest palisades for ignition. This time, her aim was good, and each and every blast found its target. Unfortunately, a handful of the mercenaries had realised that she was the source of the fire, and she was forced to roll Stubborn to the right to avoid an incoming wave of arrow fire. One particularly good shot clinked off the layered plates protecting the gryphon's vulnerable flank, only a few inches clear of something vital.

Damn.

A wordless battlecry tore from Auriana's lips as she drew Fury from its scabbard and angled Stubborn for a landing just behind the mercenaries' front line. With her men already engaged against the mercenary battalion and the air rapidly filling with arrows, a third run at the pools was too risky, but that didn't mean she was out of the fight. She threw her leg over Stubborn's head and leapt from the saddle while they were still a good twenty feet up in the air, blinking just before she hit the ground and reappearing behind an incredibly surprised mercenary. He tried to turn and raise his axe, only to be knocked unconscious as Auriana slammed Fury pommel-first into his face. He dropped like a stone, an expression of anger and bewilderment frozen on his face as he crumpled to the ground.

Auriana didn't care. She was already off and running towards her next target - though 'squelching' was perhaps a more accurate description. Moving through the Swamp was rough going, and she had to be careful to prevent her boots from becoming stuck in the mud. For once, however, her small stature proved to be advantageous - as light as she was, she found it easier to traverse the marshy terrain than the plate-armoured mercenaries - and time and again she used her relatively superior agility to outmaneuver her more heavily encumbered foes.

Auriana had been training the sword with Varian for quite some time, but she had not yet had the opportunity to really test her newfound skills. Given her current magical limitations, however, she felt it was best to conserve her strength for when it was really needed. Instead of fighting as a true mage, she relied mostly on her blade, whilst augmenting her strikes with quick and efficient blasts of magic designed to dazzle and disorient.

Lost in the rhythm of the battle, Auriana felt, rather than saw, Shaw leap from the back of his own gryphon to land, catlike, beside her. He then flanked around to her left; his twin daggers appearing in his hands as if by magic. Auriana had never seen Stormwind's Spymaster in action up close, and she was surprised by his grace in combat. She knew he was a skilled and cunning fighter, of course, but she had not expected him to be quite so balletic in his movements. He ducked and weaved around his foes with all the alacrity of the rushing wind, dispatching mercenary after mercenary with a smooth, practiced ease.

On her right, Stubborn, too, had joined the fray. A fully-trained war gryphon was a terror in battle, and he seemed to take particular pleasure in kicking and biting his way through the mercenary ranks. As strange as it was, Auriana saw something of herself in the beast's bloodthirsty enthusiasm, and she was grateful to have such a loyal creature fighting at her side.

Together, Auriana and Shaw pressed forward into the dark heart of the Swamp, though their early advantage soon dissipated as the mercenaries rallied and regrouped from the shock of the initial attack. Fortunately, they were not alone. In the time they had been fighting in the forward position, the Alliance forces had successfully broken the mercenary lines and pushed them away from their defensive positions, forcing them to fight in smaller skirmishes on a dozen different fronts.

Never one to cower in the rearguard, Genn had led the main charge himself. In his worgen form, the King of Gilneas was a sight to behold as he barrelled across the marshy ground on all fours; knocking aside mercenaries like they were made of paper. Upon spying Auriana and Shaw, however, Genn changed his trajectory and headed straight for them. He wove through the trees and leapt over fetid pools with an enviable athleticism, before skidding to a halt in a spray of mud, algae, and Light knew what else.

"Genn!"

Auriana took the moment of his arrival as a brief opportunity to catch her breath, though she knew if she stopped moving for too long her fatigue would catch up with her.

"Auriana; Shaw," he growled, by way of greeting. "Your little trick with the fire worked a charm - they may have the numerical advantage, but we have them on the run."

"Having fun, Your Majesty?" Shaw quipped, eyeing the trail of bodies strewn across the Swamp in Genn's wake.

"Perhaps a little," Genn admitted, his muzzle curling as he sniffed the air. "They're definitely Thorne's men, by the way - I heard them shouting for him as we made our initial charge."

"I don't suppose they were kind enough to tell you exactly where their esteemed leader is hiding?" Shaw asked.

"Not as such, no."

"I'm sure that's something we can rectify…"

Auriana's eyes narrowed as she sought the nearest mercenary, a hard-faced woman bearing an enormous war hammer that was nearly as long as Auriana was tall. Not that it mattered. She gathered her power, and with an effortful grunt, seized the mercenary in cloying bonds of arcane magic and hurled her up against the nearest tree.

"Where is Thorne?!" she demanded. "Tell me and I will spare your life."

The mercenary struggled in vain to raise her hammer, muscles bulging in her arms, but Auriana held firm. She tightened her fingers into a fist, and her magic coalesced, solidifying into chains as strong as any steel.

"I won't ask twice."

"C-cave..." the mercenary choked.

Auriana glanced towards the wide, yawning cave mouth a few hundred yards west of their current position. It was well protected, and it made the most sense that Thorne would be there. "Is there any other way out? Any secret passages into the mountains."

"N-no…"

Auriana raised her fist.

"I… I s-swear…"

"Good. We have him cornered, then," Genn concluded, a low snarl of satisfaction reverberating through his chest.

Auriana flung the mercenary to the ground, whereupon Shaw immediately incapacitated her with an expert blow to the back of the head - enough to keep her out for several hours, at least.

"The sooner we apprehend Thorne, the sooner this is all over," Auriana agreed.

She wiped the sweat from her brow - between the humidity of the Swamp and her own weariness, she had worked up quite the sheen. There was no more time to rest, however, not when they were now so close.

"Watch our backs," she ordered Stubborn, splaying her fingers and sweeping her hand downwards in one of the standard hand signals taught to all Alliance warbirds. "Genn, Shaw: with me!"

Together, they raced across the battlefield and into the yawning cave mouth; Auriana lagging slightly behind the two taller and fresher men. Most of the mercenaries had already fled from the cave in order to join the battle raging outside, but there were a handful of men remaining to defend Thorne's inner sanctum. They were no match for the combined might of Genn, Shaw, and Auriana, however, who quickly dispatched what resistance remained.

The sounds of the fighting faded to a dull drone as they ventured deep into the labyrinthine tunnels. It was far cooler inside, and the general mugginess of the air was not quite so clinging. Judging from the extent of the infrastructure built into the hollows and caverns branching off the main passage, Thorne and his mercenaries had been entrenched in the Swamp for quite some time. Auriana, Genn and Shaw passed by what appeared to be a rudimentary barracks and a small infirmary, before at last emerging into the makeshift war room at the very heart of the cavern network.

Thorne was alone, and seemingly unperturbed by the fact that his camp was under assault by SI:7's finest. Nor did he seem at all surprised to see Genn, Shaw and Auriana, acknowledging their presence with little more than a raised eyebrow and a resigned huff. He was standing behind a makeshift 'desk' that had been cobbled together from some roughly hewn slabs of wood, with several maps of different locations on Azeroth spread out before him, and a large leather-bound tome within easy reach of his right hand.

He might have been a handsome man, once, with his salt-and-pepper hair and cocksure grin - but that had been a dose of Blight, several nose breaks, and one vicious panther attack ago. His cheeks and lower jaw were now a ruined mess of scars, and his eyes were so dark and sunken that he looked positively skeletal.

Strangely enough, however, Thorne did not inspire quite as much vitriol in Auriana as Anguile did, even though he bore far more responsibility for the attacks and manipulations that had plagued her since the war on Draenor. Anguile was a man who wanted for nothing, and had nevertheless decided that it wasn't enough. Thorne, on the other hand, had lost everything that had ever mattered to him, and while Auriana did not condone his actions, she could, at least, understand them.

"So. Anguile talked," Thorne said drily, with a vague gesture in the direction of the cave entrance. "Disappointing, though not surprising. I should never have made that deal, but such is life."

He let out a dry little chuckle.

"Alas. Hindsight makes fools of us all."

"Enough, Reid," Shaw growled, pointedly refusing to use Thorne's chosen sobriquet. "We can end this now, if you surrender. No need for more of your men to suffer."

Thorne twitched at the use of his real name, though his expression remained one of mannered amusement.

"My men? They knew what they signed up for," he drawled, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "They know that fighting for a cause such as ours requires sacrifice."

"They're fighting for you," Auriana snarled. "Because you convinced them that all of this was somehow worthwhile."

More than almost anything else, she despised a commander who considered their troops expendable. It was one thing to acknowledge the harsh realities of war, and another thing entirely to treat it all as some sort of cavalier game.

"End this," Shaw reiterated. "You cannot truly believe that all this terror serves the greater good. You were a loyal agent of Stormwind, once."

"And I still am!" Thorne hissed, his face abruptly twisting in a painful rictus. "I am not deluded, Master Shaw. Everything I have done is for the good of Stormwind."

"How is attempted regicide for the good of Stormwind?" Auriana demanded.

A vision of Varian lying bleeding and broken in the snow danced in front of her vision, and her jaw tightened.

"Ah, simply a means to an end. We've been over this, Au-ri-an-a," Thorne retorted, emphasising each syllable in her name in a sing-song voice that made her profoundly uncomfortable. "You know what I want."

As he spoke, his eyes darted towards the heavy tome on the desk in front of him more often than seemed natural. On a hunch, Auriana stretched out her magic and snatched the book away before he could grab it; floating it gently over to Shaw on tendrils of arcane power.

"Master Shaw, I'm assuming you can make good use of this."

Thorne's eyes narrowed, though he said nothing as Shaw began to leaf through the first few pages.

"Very good use," the Spymaster confirmed. "It appears to be a record of Thorne's entire operation. There are names of operatives in Stormwind, Dalaran, even Orgrimmar…"

He glanced up at Thorne; his bushy orange brows arcing up so high that they nearly kissed his hairline.

"I don't know whether I ought to be horrified or impressed. Your network is smaller, of course, but almost as well-placed as my own."

"Well, I learned from the best, Master."

Thorne's mouth curled into a beatific smile, and his earlier moment of pique vanished as if it had never been. Auriana frowned. She had forgotten how mercurial Thorne could be - one moment charming and genteel, and the next frothing with vitriol for the Horde. Had he not conspired to destroy everything in the world she held dear, she would have found him pitiable.

"I suppose you intend to arrest me, then?" Thorne added, casually slipping a hand into his right pocket.

Auriana scoffed. "You tried to kill Stormwind's King and heir. Not to mention that your actions have disrupted arguably the most important peace effort between the Alliance and the Horde to date. Of course we intend to arrest you."

"I see." Thorne let out a theatrical sigh, and made a strange little jerking motion with his head. "I will 'come quietly'… provided you answer a question for me, Your Majesty…"

"What do you want, Thorne?" Genn growled, placing a protective paw on Auriana's shoulder.

"I want to know how it felt."

Thorne's sharp gaze bored into Auriana as if he were stripping her down to the bone. She shifted her weight in wary anticipation, though she had no idea what he was hinting at.

"How what felt?"

"Losing yourself to your rage like that." Thorne licked his lips. "I was watching, you know. You were beautiful."

Auriana felt a chill run down her spine. For a second she was back in Northrend, feeling her rage swell and bubble as she started down the Horde, wanting nothing more than to make the glacier run red with the blood of all those who dared to challenge her. It was a heady, powerful feeling, and the memory of it both turned her stomach and made her heart beat faster, all at the same time.

"Stop it," she snarled.

Even if she had possessed the desire to unpack her incredibly complex and conflicting emotions over the disaster in Northrend, Thorne was perhaps the last person on Azeroth she would have turned to for succor.

"I wish you could see yourself fight. You are a most elegant terror, my lady." He bent forward in an over-exaggerated bow, and twirled his left wrist with a dramatic flourish. "All hail the Dread Queen! Fury Incarnate, the Wrath of the Alliance made flesh."

"I said, stop it."

Auriana balled her hands into fists at her side and dug her nails into her palms, hoping that the sudden, sharp sting of pain would be enough to keep her mind focused and her rage in check.

"That's enough," Shaw said, his voice little more than a low, icy whisper. "Come along, now, no need for this to get… messy."

Thorne, however, wasn't listening. His attention was firmly fixed on Auriana, eyeing her with an intensity that bordered on obsessiveness.

"Such a pity that your loyalties are misplaced, Majesty."

"My loyalties are not misplaced," she snarled. "I serve the Alliance, first, last, and always - I just don't believe that provoking a world war is in our best interests at this point in time."

"So terribly short-sighted." Thorne's needle-like gaze switched to Genn. "And you, King of Gilneas. Surely you, of all people, can sympathise with my cause, given your… familial difficulties…"

"This… this isn't about my son," Genn said stiffly, after a pause.

A worgen's face was not quite so expressive as a human's, but the pain behind his gleaming eyes was plain to see.

"Isn't it? Are not all our children at risk, should the Horde rot be allowed to fester and spread?"

Thorne stood up straighter and rolled his shoulders back, seemingly steeling himself for something.

"Promise me something, Auriana?" he asked. "When your Horde friends turn on you - and they will - when you stand in rivers of blood as the children of the Alliance burn all around you… when your courage wanes and your heart is shattered, and all those pretty words of peace turn to ash in your mouth… think of me, won't you?"

Thorne grinned, his mouth seeming to stretch wider than should have been possible for his face. Before anyone could react, he raised his right hand, and peeled back his fingers to reveal a goblin detonator

…and pressed the button.

Auriana screamed, and shoved every last bit of magical energy she possessed into an arcane shield as a monstrous explosion erupted from beneath Thorne's desk. It was an ugly, inefficient spell, and she staggered under the weight of the sudden surge of magical energy that raced through her body and out through her fingertips. Black spots danced in her vision, and it was only thanks to years of hard training and sheer stubbornness that she managed to remain upright.

Beside her, both Genn and Shaw flinched away, instinctively throwing their hands up as if flesh alone would be enough to stop the force of the explosion. It was an utterly futile gesture - or it would have been, had Auriana's magic not been holding back the shrapnel and flame.

"What...? How? What are you doing?"

Genn slowly lowered his hands, his eyes widening in amazed disbelief as he took in the shimmering half-sphere of purple energy protecting them from the blast. Had Auriana not been struggling to maintain the spell, she might have even admired her own handiwork. Enormous plumes of scalding fire hung suspended in mid-air like ominous clouds, surrounded by slowly twisting chunks of stone and the shattered fragments of Thorne's makeshift desk. Thorne himself had been obliterated - Auriana was not that quick - though she thought she saw a scrap of what might once have been his coat twisting through the frozen flames.

"I'm… altering the flow of time between us and the point of the explosion," she choked, each word a monumental effort. "I can't stop it entirely, but I can… I can slow it down."

Time magic was hardly Auriana's specialty, and already she could feel the threads of her spellwork threatening to unravel. Releasing the spell meant certain death, however, and so she grit her teeth and held on.

"How long can you maintain that shield?" Shaw demanded, ever practical.

"Ha. Longer than... you... not as long as a… a bronze dragon."

As Auriana spoke, she tasted iron upon her lips as a sluggish river of blood trickled from her nose. Her vision swam, and her chest tightened, as if there were a great vice slowly closing itself around her heart.

"Long enough for us to back up the tunnel?"

"You don't… understand. I can't move and hold the spell at the same time. Too much… magical force... involved." Auriana shook her head, once. "It's like… trying to hold back a collapsing wall. If I move... the wall will collapse on top of me… but if I don't move, eventually my strength will give out."

As if to emphasise her point, Auriana's hands began to shake with effort, and she winced as her left thigh began to cramp.

"You're stuck," Genn surmised.

A hole no larger than a fingernail appeared in the shield just above Auriana's left shoulder, and a tiny fragment of flaming debris slowly worked its way through. It rocketed forward the moment it breached the magical barrier and slammed into the wall behind them with terrific force; a grim reminder of the fate that awaited them all, should Auriana's magic fail.

"Something... of a flaw… in my plan." She barked out a harsh, rasping laugh. "I can hold it… long enough... for you and Shaw to run…"

"Like hell," Genn growled. "I'd rather die in that explosion than have to tell Varian that you're dead. And worse, that Shaw and I left you."

"So… all three of us are going to die… for no reason, then," Auriana snorted. "Wonderful."

"Not if I can help it," Genn retorted, his lupine eyes gleaming in the reflected spell-light. "Shaw. Do you still have that ledger?"

"Majesty…"

"We cannot have our efforts here today be all for nought. Take the book, and leave," Genn ordered. "I will see to Auriana."

Shaw glanced down at the leatherbound tome in his arms, clearly torn between the obvious pragmatic choice and his duty to protect a member of the royal family, and it was only once Auriana nodded in support of Genn's command that he reluctantly turned and hastened away to safety.

Genn did not bother to watch him leave. "Now - if you were to release that shield, would it vanish immediately, or would it take time to dissipate?"

"If… if I overloaded the shield just before I released the spell, it would… it would linger," Auriana murmured, though she was mostly guessing. "Not for long, though... four or five seconds… at most."

"That will have to do. Is it going to disrupt your spell if I lift you?"

"Lift me… you want to carry me? Have me drop the shield… and hope you can outrun the explosion before it hits us?" Auriana asked, incredulous.

"Worgen are fast."

"Bombs are faster."

The cramp in Auriana's left leg suddenly became unbearable and she fell to one knee, crying out in pain as bone met solid stone with an echoing crack. The shield wavered ominously.

"Do you have a better idea?" Genn asked pointedly.

"No," she admitted, quite literally without a leg to stand on. "Just… when you go to pick me up... position yourself directly behind me. You'll… see why."

Genn did not question her instruction. He moved immediately to crouch down behind her, so close that Auriana could feel his hot wolf's breath on the back of her neck. He took a few brief moments to get himself situated, only to hesitate as he reached out to lift her; his fingers hovering awkwardly above the thick twill of her breeches where the curve of her buttocks met her thighs.

"Ah - apologies for the indignity, my dear," he mumbled, sounding far more like a shy boy at his first dance than a worldly, elder king.

"Oh, Light, Genn, I don't give a damn about your Gilnean sensibilities," Auriana snapped. "Just grab me!"

"Ah… right…"

She heard the scrape of claws on stone as Genn dramatically swept her off her feet and braced himself against the sudden push back of the barely-contained explosion. Even with his worgen's strength, however, the force of the spell was enough to push him back about half a foot. More pieces of debris slipped through the shield.

"Oof," he grunted, his muscles flexing beneath her. "When you said 'magical force', I wasn't expecting something quite so tangible..."

"Well, all that energy has to go somewhere."

Although her feet were no longer on the ground, Auriana was still facing the explosion with her hands raised. Genn had lifted her more or less straight up, so that she appeared to be sitting on an invisible chair in mid-air with her backside pressed into his stomach and her knees curled up towards her chest. It was certainly not the most comfortable position Auriana had ever been in, though she was simply grateful that she had managed to maintain the spell whilst being lifted.

"Ready?" he asked. "Three…"

"Two…"

"One!"

Auriana forced as much power as she could into the spell, and let go. She gasped as the pressure on her chest abruptly lifted, only to be replaced by a fierce pain pounding behind her left eye. Genn was already off running, hightailing it down the tunnel as if he were being pursued by the felhounds of Sargeras himself. There was no grace or elegance to his movements, only a frantic scrabble to get as far as he could before...

Detonation.

A wave of burning heat washed over Genn and Auriana from behind, and they were slammed heavily into the cave wall as the full force of the explosion finally caught up with them. Even Genn was not so strong as to be able to resist that much energy, and despite his best efforts he stumbled and fell. Auriana tumbled from his arms, and she cried out in pain as her shoulder was crushed beneath the hard stone floor and the weight of Genn's falling body. Debris rained down from above, and she instinctively threw her hands up over her head and contracted into a ball.

Silence descended, broken only by the faint ringing in Auriana's ears, and several minutes passed before she felt safe enough to uncurl. With great effort, she rolled over onto her back, and took a moment to mentally. Fingers, check; toes, check; shoulder, bruised but functional; head… well, the less she thought about her head, the better. But she was alive, and far less injured than she may have feared.

Groaning, she pushed herself up on one elbow, only to immediately roll to her feet as her bleary-eyed gaze found Genn.

"You're on fire!" she exclaimed.

She quickly wriggled out of her dirty and dust-stained coat, and used it to beat out the flames on Genn's back. Burning worgen hair, as it turned out, smelled awful, and she gagged as her efforts to extinguish the Gilnean King kicked up a wave of smoke in her face. She wasn't about to just let him burn, however, and so she held her breath until she was certain she had extinguished the last of the sparks.

"Thank you, my dear," Genn gasped, brushing his paws over his chest and forearms as if he were surprised to find himself still all in one piece.

"Anytime," she groaned.

"Are you… injured?"

"Nothing serious. Just a little…"

As the last of her adrenaline faded away, Auriana was overcome by a wave of nausea. She slid down the nearest cave wall and put her head in her hands. The entire world was spinning, and she felt weak and shivery, as if she were just recovering from a bout of the flu. Manipulating time was a challenge at the best of times, let alone when she was still recovering from magical exhaustion, and it took every last shred of willpower she possessed to remain conscious.

Try as she might, however, she could not resist the overwhelming queasiness rising in her gut. She pitched forward onto her hands and knees, and with a painful groan, emptied the entire contents of her stomach…

…all over the highly polished leather of Mathias Shaw's boots.

Most unfortunately, the Spymaster had chosen that exact moment to round the corner back into the tunnel with Auriana and Genn. Given the nature of his profession, she was sure that he had experienced far worse than a little sick on his shoes, though that didn't make her feel any better. Her cheeks flamed red with absolute mortification, and she clapped a hand over her mouth.

"I am so, so sorry…"

To his credit, Shaw bore the indignity with little more than a raised eyebrow and a slight tightening of his jaw.

"Given that your spell just saved my life, Your Majesty, I think we can call it even," he suggested kindly, as he scraped the worst of it off his toes with the aid of a nearby rock. "I'm just pleased to see that you're both alive."

"'Alive' seems like an overly generous description…"

Auriana pushed herself upright with a painful wince, but anything more than that was beyond her. She didn't even try to stand up, knowing that she would almost certainly faint if she tried. She also didn't want to risk another bout of vomiting, and so she simply closed her eyes and rested her head back against the cool stone of the cave wall.

"Do you need a healer?" Shaw asked.

"No… I'm fine… I just... need to rest my eyes..." Auriana mumbled.

"I'll take one of the gryphons and fly you back to Stormwind," Genn offered. "Varian will skin me for a wolfskin rug if I let you remain here a minute longer in your current state. Thorne's dead, there is no need for you to linger."

Auriana opened her eyes as he slipped one arm beneath her shoulders and the other behind her knees, and lifted her into the air for the second time that day. Despite his burns, he seemed perfectly fit; his natural worgen robustness allowing him to shake off injuries that regular men might have found debilitating. He certainly didn't appear to have any difficulties bearing Auriana's weight, and he nestled her against his chest with surprising gentleness.

Normally, Auriana would have argued against being carried around like some swooning maiden - even if it had been Varian, she still would have found it fanciful and excessive - but she was far too tired to protest. She accepted her fate with little more than a weary nod, and rested her head back against Genn's furred shoulder.

"My men and I will finish up here, and join you as soon as we are able. With Thorne dead, I doubt the others will continue to resist for long," Shaw agreed, carefully tucking the ledger in Auriana's arms. "You ought to take this with you, too."

Genn added something further, but Auriana was far too gone to hear the words. Her mind drifted in and out as Genn bore her from the cave, and she only vaguely recalled him retrieving Stubborn and placing her gently in the saddle, securing the ledger, and mounting up behind. He muttered a faint order to the gryphon - or maybe he didn't, Auriana wasn't sure - but within moments she felt blessedly fresh air on her face as they escaped the Swamp's oppressive canopy and turned north towards Stormwind.

Auriana did not remember much more of their journey. Genn's fur was warm and far softer than it looked, and between the comfort of his body and the soft, rhythmic beat of the gryphon's wings, Auriana felt her eyelids begin to droop. She fought valiantly, but she could only postpone the inevitable for so long. One second she was soaring over the lush forests of Elwynn, and the next thing she knew she was being shaken awake by Genn.

"Auriana? Wake up…"

Startled, she sat bolt upright and nearly fell out of the saddle. For a moment she panicked, imagining herself tumbling hundreds of feet through the air, when she realised that they were already on the ground - or rather, perched upon the highest ramparts of Stormwind Keep. Still twilight had descended upon the world in the time it had taken to fly back from the Swamp of Sorrows, and the entire city was bathed in hues of rich purple and deep magenta.

"We… we're in Stormwind…?" she mumbled.

Genn offered Auriana a hand to help her dismount, though even with his help, she stumbled slightly as her feet hit the stone.

"Are you sure we don't need to get you to a healer?" he frowned.

"No," she insisted, blinking the sleep from her eyes. "Like I told Shaw, I just need to sleep it off. I wouldn't say no to something to eat, either."

She wasn't lying - or at least, not entirely. Her little snooze during their flight had been surprisingly refreshing, and while it was not enough to cure her exhaustion, she at the very least no longer felt as if her stomach was in her throat.

"If you're sure…" Genn said doubtfully. "At least let me carry you down to Varian."

"It's alright, I can walk." Auriana shook her head. "Besides, Varian will have a heart attack if you carry me in like a damsel in distress."

"I'd find it amusing at least," Genn snorted.

"Well, you know Varian and I both live for your amusement…"

Genn grinned at that, his pointed canines gleaming in the dying afternoon light. The expression was rather more intimidating than mirthful in his worgen form, though his eyes twinkled with paternal warmth.

"Come on," she added.

Auriana linked her arm in his, and together they limped their way down into the castle proper. The two royal guards standing watch outside Varian and Auriana's suite exchanged a relieved look at their approach, and quickly stepped back to grant them access. Auriana could only guess at what vehement profanities they must have heard over the course of the day, and she flashed them a quick smile of thanks as she crossed the threshold into the dim torchlight of the inner chamber.

Inside, Varian was pacing back and forth in front of their bed as well as his bad leg would allow. His hair was loose and damp, evidence of a recent bath, and he had not bothered to dress in anything more elaborate than an open-necked tunic and a pair of loose linen pants. It was rare that he had not sensed them coming, testimony to his considerable brooding distraction, and he spun with his teeth bared as Genn let out a soft cough to announce their presence.

A hundred different expressions flashed across Varian's face - vexation, concern, relief - before he settled on a sort of resigned curiosity. "Don't you two look a treat."

Auriana could not see her own reflection from where she was standing, but she could taste dried blood and dirt upon her lips. Her coat was a charred, ruined mess, and she was sure her hair was frightful. Genn, too, was well singed; the burns on his back even more painfully evident as he cracked his neck and shifted back into his human form.

"What happened?" Varian asked. "Ridley returned a few hours ago bearing some rather interesting testimony, so I assume you were at least somewhat successful."

Auriana gratefully allowed Genn to take the lead in recounting the day's events; from their interrogation of Anguile to their impromptu raid on Thorne's camp in the Swamp of Sorrows and the detailed ledger they had found within. He somehow managed to make their escape from Thorne's bomb sound a lot less harrowing than it had been in reality, though whether he had done so intentionally to spare them both Varian's wrath, she couldn't tell. In any case, Varian seemed mostly satisfied; acknowledging Genn's tale with little more than a quiet grunt and a raised eyebrow.

"Well, I suppose I ought to thank you for bringing my wife back in one piece," he rumbled, then with a sidelong glance at Auriana, added, "More or less."

"I've still got ten fingers and ten toes," she assured him, waggling her left hand in front of her face.

Varian did not smile.

"As always, it is my honour to protect your family, Varian," Genn said seriously. "I can only hope Thorne's death and Anguile's arrest will bring you some peace."

He stretched out his shoulders with a painful wince, the movement reminding Auriana that for all his worgen's strength, he was still a man old enough to be her grandfather.

"For now, however, I think I ought to retire to my chambers for a nice hot bath… and a glass of very expensive brandy."

"You've earned it," Auriana said, hoping that he would hear the gratitude beneath the weariness in her voice. "Thank you, Genn."

"Anytime, my dear."

He gave her a fatherly pat upon the shoulder, before turning back to Varian. The two men clasped forearms in a sign of mutual respect, and after placing Thorne's ledger gently on the corner of the bed, Genn left the room.

Varian stared at Auriana for a long time after Genn's departure, silent and unblinking. Auriana knew from experience that there was little point trying to talk to him when he was deep in thought, and so instead she turned her attention to wiping the blood from her face and unravelling the knots and loops of her singed and dirty hair.

It was a necessary task, though more than anything it gave Auriana something to do with her hands while she waited for Varian to process his thoughts. She limped across the room to the ornate bureau that dominated the far wall; Varian's gaze burning on the back of her neck the entire while. She supposed she couldn't blame him - the mirror assured her that she looked awful - but she wished he would stop staring quite so intensely.

"I'm not sure I approve of you chasing Thorne into a swamp without any kind of preparation or backup," he said finally.

"You would have done the same thing," Auriana countered, as she pulled another hairpin free. "I couldn't take the risk that Thorne would hear of the raid on Anguile's manor and effect an escape. I saw a chance to end things, once and for all, and I took it."

A long, telling silence suffused the room. Varian would have done the same, though she doubted he would admit as much out loud.

"And you're sure it's over? Really over?" he said instead.

Auriana paused, her hands still raised behind her head, and studied the reflection of Varian's scowling face in the mirror. She did not blame him for his scepticism. Thorne's machinations had cast shadows over their lives for so long, it was difficult to believe that they might at last be able to exist free of the constant, looming threat of assassination.

"I'm sure," she assured him. "Thorne is dead, and Anguile will soon join him. And we have the ledger. We can arrest and try everyone involved. They're not getting away this time."

Auriana pulled the last pin free from her hair and shook her head, sending loosely curled waves tumbling down over her shoulders. It still smelled faintly of burning, though thankfully it was not quite as bad as Genn's flambéed fur.

"I assume you'll want to share this evidence with Vol'jin?" she added, as she kicked off her boots and made her way across the room towards the walk-in robe. "There were conspirators on the Horde side of things, too."

Varian limped slowly after, though he stopped short of entering the robe itself. Instead, he rested one arm up against the doorframe, leaning into it slightly so that the stone bore part of his weight.

"I will. Perhaps there's still something we can salvage out of this mess."

He let out a long, slow sigh, and rubbed a weary hand across his temples. For a split second, he looked as old as Auriana had ever seen him; his eyes dark and sunken, and his brow heavy with care. His shoulders slumped, and Auriana could practically see the weight of the world pressing down upon him… but then he shifted his weight, lifted his chin, and he was the King of Stormwind again - strong, steadfast, unflinching.

"A shame we'll never know who would have won the Tournament," he added, in an admirable attempt at brightening the mood.

"Oh, please," Auriana scoffed, more than willing to play along. "With you and I fighting as a team? Everyone else was just competing for second place."

She flashed Varian a brief, cocky grin, and was gratified to receive an amused grunt in return. She would have gladly carried his burdens for him, but if that were not possible, she would settle for the simple pleasure of making him smile... even if only for a moment.

"I quite agree."

The muscles in Varian's back and shoulders rippled as he gave himself a small shake, and his posture relaxed - not enough to be called 'relaxed' in absolute terms, of course, but he no longer looked quite so much like a coiled spring.

Auriana knew from experience that it would take some time for him to fully unwind. She felt exactly the same. Even with Thorne now dead, it was difficult to let go of months and months of drawn-out fear and tension - much like it was difficult to decompress in the aftermath of a battle. The transition from the heart-pounding, electrifying thrill of a life-or-death situation to the mundane simplicity of disrobing was jarring, at best, and it always took Auriana some time to shake off the last vestiges of bloodlust. She had found it harder when she was younger, when her fury was not yet quite so controlled, but there would always be a part of her that was almost disappointed by the inevitable comedown. When combined with the relief brought on by Thorne's spectacular demise, her magical exhaustion, and the doubts that Anguile's testimony had seeded in her heart, Auriana felt pulled in a hundred different directions, and she wasn't even sure where to begin untangling her strange and complex emotions.

Varian noticed.

"You look upset," he remarked. "I would have thought you would be… not happy, perhaps, but at the very least… relieved. Are you injured?"

"No. I'm just tired, and I… I quite liked this coat," Auriana sighed, sliding a finger through a singed hole in one of the sleeves.

It was true, though far from the most pressing thing on her mind.

"Here. Allow me."

Varian pushed himself off the wall and stepped forward to join Auriana within the confines of the walk-in robe. After her nap aboard the gryphon, she was not so tired that she was incapable of doing so herself, but she nonetheless willingly submitted to Varian's attention. She was conscious of his heady gaze upon her skin as he slowly stripped her down to her smallclothes, discarding her ruined coat and breeches in a dishevelled heap on the floor. She shivered slightly, both from the cool evening air and the gentle brush of his calloused hands across her back and shoulders, but when he reached for one of her favourite teagowns, she shook her head.

"Just a robe. I'll need a bath before dinner, no point sullying another outfit."

Varian shrugged. "As you wish."

He found instead a warm woollen bathrobe, and placed it gently around Auriana's bare shoulders. She slipped her arms into the sleeves, and curled herself into the plush fabric. After a day of blood, sweat and dirt, a warm robe was a welcome comfort indeed, though Auriana could not quite bring herself to relax. She closed her eyes, and her entire body sagged as the full enormity of the day washed over her.

"Are you sure you're alright?"

Varian's voice was soft, but insistent. Auriana sighed. He knew her far too well.

"It's nothing, really," she murmured. "Just… something Anguile said…"

She vaguely hoped that Varian would decline to press, but of course now that she had mentioned Anguile, he was unlikely to let it go.

"You can't trust anything that comes out of that man's mouth, Auriana, you know that… you'd be better served listening to an actual snake," he growled. "What did he say?"

Auriana wasn't quite sure how to phrase her concern. She wasn't entirely sure she knew what it was that had bothered her so much, only that Anguile's little barbs had very successfully worked their way beneath her skin.

"I'm a mage," she said finally. "A sorceress."

Varian raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Yes… and quite a talented one, from what I hear…"

"Ha." Auriana swallowed. "My point is… so… so was Katrana Prestor."

Varian went very still.

"Where are you going with this, Auri?" he asked warily.

"Anguile suggested that… that she and I… were alike. He insinuated that I'd enchanted my way onto the throne, much as… as Prestor tried to do," she said quietly, stumbling over the words. "And while that's obviously not true… I couldn't help but to think… with everything you suffered at the hands of a powerful sorceress... how did you ever come to trust me?"

Varian scowled so hard that his thick brows almost touched, and a heavy, dangerous aura settled over his rigid shoulders. Auriana immediately regretted having ever opened her mouth, though there was no chance of going back now.

"You are nothing like Katrana Prestor," he whispered fiercely. "Do you hear me?"

"But I could be," Auriana mumbled. "I…"

She wasn't entirely sure why she was arguing the point with him. He had never shown any signs of discomfort with her powers, even when they had first met… but then again, he was notoriously guarded with his true feelings. Was there a part of him that feared her? A part that instinctively wanted to recoil from her? Anguile's cruel comparison had made her wonder.

"I can't directly manipulate people's minds, but I can alter time... I can make things disappear... I can make you see things that aren't there…" she said slowly. "How can you be certain that I've never ensorcelled you, or used my magic to manipulate you?"

A nerve began to twitch over Varian's left eye. He opened his mouth to speak, only to swiftly shut it again - once, then twice, and then again a third time. It was rare to see him so completely lost for words - usually he had at least a sarcastic quip or two to deflect attention while he gathered his thoughts - and Auriana fervently wished that the ground would open up and swallow her whole.

"Well… have… have you?" he managed, after several minutes of intensely awkward silence.

"No!" Auriana swore vehemently. "Of course not!"

Varian considered her seriously, his head cocked to one side. His blue eyes were sharp, and he stared at Auriana as if he could see right through her. She gathered her robe tighter around her, as if the sumptuous fabric could possibly shield her from the intensity of his gaze, and waited for him to speak. She wasn't even sure what she wanted him to say, and she fidgeted nervously with the hem of her sleeves beneath his silent scrutiny.

"Then… that's all there is to it," Varian concluded, his tone soft, though allowing little room for argument. "I trust you."

Auriana blinked. Now she was the one lost for words. Varian spoke with such certainty, as if his trust in her were as immovable and unshakeable as a mountain, but Auriana was still uncertain. It surely couldn't be that simple… could it?

"I…"

"C'mere."

Varian cut her off with a bemused shake of his head. He reached out to grasp her by the wrist, his enormous hand covering nearly half her forearm, and gave a small tug. For a split second, Auriana resisted, uncertain, but the gentle insistence in his eyes quickly won out. She allowed him to pull her against his chest and wrap his arms about her neck and shoulders, before finally resting his chin upon the top of her head with a long, satisfied thrum.

"Anguile is finished. As is Thorne, and Garrosh Hellscream, and Katrana Prestor," he growled. "Along with every other villain and upstart who has ever though to challenge us. We prevail, Auriana, you and I, and we always will… so long as we have each other."

Varian's embrace was somewhat smothering, purely by virtue of his size, but Auriana didn't care. He was warm, and safe, and for the first time since their aborted honeymoon in Teldrassil, she felt as if they could truly just be husband and wife. His hushed words suffused her with courage and reassurance, and with a concerted effort, she forced any last lingering thoughts of Anguile and Katrana Prestor from her mind. She had Varian's complete and utter trust, and nothing Anguile or anyone else could ever say would change that fact.

"I love you," she mumbled.

"And I you. More than I can say."

For a long moment they stood in silence, simply holding one another close as they allowed all the pain and tension of the last year to melt away. Not for the first time, Auriana marvelled at Varian's ability to make her feel safe. It would take some time before she would be able to properly parse out her jumbled feelings, and she doubted she would ever truly forgive herself for what had happened in Northrend, but for now, at least, she was content. She had Varian, warm and strong and so wonderfully alive, and that was all that really mattered.

"You smell awful," he remarked, after a while.

"Well, it's not called the 'Pleasant-Smelling Field of Sorrows', now is it?" Auriana retorted. "If it's that bad, you could let me go…?"

She shifted her weight to pull away, but Varian refused to release her. His already powerful hold tightened, and he brushed his lips against the top of her left ear. The warmth of his breath tickled her skin, and the air about him crackled with intensity.

"No," he rumbled, the simple word catching in his throat as his voice deepened with emotion, "I don't think I ever could…"