A/N: As always, I want to send my thanks to those that are still following along and sending me such encouragement. I cannot express enough gratitude for my readers. You have all made such a positive impact in my life and been there to motivate me and push me through the hardest of times. I love you all xx -Skye

P.S: My chapters keep getting really long and I don't know how to fix it. Drop a comment if you think the length is okay, or if it's too much and I should start splitting them? The feedback is much needed.

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five

Maiev stared on in muted horror as the entrance to the tomb came collapsing down with a crash that echoed through the surrounding forests, forever encasing Naisha inside. The seconds that followed seemed eternal to her, an insurmountable length of time passing by her and leaving her completely unaware of anything else except this, and as she stood there gaping with widened eyes and parted lips she could do nothing but replay that final second in her mind over and over, until she was quite sure she had committed the look of terror on Naisha's face to her memory.

It wasn't until she heard the sound of rapid footsteps and panting breaths that Maiev finally blinked, angling her head just enough to see Cordana and the others making their way towards her. The emerald hair Watcher skidded to a halt next to her commander, her own expression frantic as her gaze flitted between Maiev and the collapsed entrance of the ruins. "What happened?!" She demanded, her voice lifting a few octaves, her words slamming together from how fast they fell from her lips. "Did you find him?"

Maiev met Cordana's gaze, motionless, silent and unblinking, and remained that way until the younger elf finally reached out a hand to grip the Warden by the forearm, her fingers pressing into her armor as she gave her a hard shake. "Maiev," Cordana demanded, looking around wildly, sending her mess of tangled and bloodstained hair dancing around her face. "Maiev, where is Naisha?"

Reaching up with a trembling hand, Maiev tucked a strand of her own pale pink hair behind her long ear and out of her face, her lip quivering. For the first time in what felt like a lifetime, she felt the hot sting of tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. She tried her best to choke them back, to hide her weakness and emotion away, but still a few managed to slip free, rolling in silent rivulets over her cheeks. "She didn't make it out," she whispered, her voice so soft it was barely audible.

Cordana's mouth fell open, though no sound managed to make it out. She stumbled away a few steps, shaking her head frantically. "N-No," she snapped, sounding almost closer to anger than sorrow. When her own tears came, they were far from silent, but rather great, heaving sobs that shook her body, and Maiev watched as she threw herself at the ruins, shaking fingers yanking at the fallen rocks like she might be able to pull them away and somehow save her. Maiev watched for several moments, wrapping her arms around her torso and allowing herself to shed just a few more tears, because for as long as she had been in command of the Watchers, Naisha had been the only person that had stood beside her no matter what, and now there would be a gaping hole where that unwavering loyalty had once been.

But crying was useless- it wouldn't bring her back any more than any of her other tears had brought back Illidan- and so a moment later she yanked off a glove to wipe at her cheeks before approaching Cordana and placing that same hand gently upon her shoulder. "Come," she said lowly. "There is nothing more for you here."

Cordana craned her neck to peer up at the Warden with widened, dampened eyes, but they were quick to narrow, and she was quick to shrug Maiev's hand off of her. "You let her die," she said, deadly low. "She followed you, this was your mission, and you let her die."

Each word was a dagger penetrating straight through her chest piece and into her heart. But rather than let that show, she rearranged her features into a perfect mask of icy composure. "Naisha knew the risks involved," she retorted, tearing her gaze away long enough to look at each of the others. "As do the rest of you. The loss of my Lieutenant is tragic, but it will not deter us from our mission. This is but another crime for which the Betrayer must pay."

Cordana scoffed, staggering to her feet, putting a few feet of distance between them. "How many of us must fall before you give up, then?"

To that, Maiev said nothing, for she knew the only answer she had to give would do little to comfort the elf. Instead, she stole one last glance at the remains of the tomb before locking eyes with Cordana once more. She paused for but a moment, and although no words were spoken between them, somehow that single state said all that would ever need to be said. "Felsong," Maiev said then, her tone returning once more to its usual coldness. "You will take Naisha's place as lieutenant. I trust you will honor her memory by carrying out her duties."

The Watcher's campsite was deadly silent that night. Knowing that she'd get little no sleep anyway, Maiev volunteered to stay on guard. She wasn't sure how long she sat there beside the fire, staring off at the rolling waves of the ocean as they stretched out before her. With her knees pulled into her chest and her chin resting atop them, she tried in vain to clear her mind, but trying not to think so much only seemed to make the thoughts even more persistent.

Cordana's words replayed in the back of her mind, the accusation that Naisha's death rested on her shoulders. Maiev thought back to that day in the Barrows, when so many of her own had been slain by Tyrande Whisperwind- was that her burden to bear too, then? No, she told herself firmly. These deaths were Illidan's responsibility. He was the one to be held accountable for them. But then, if it wasn't for Maiev and her ceaseless need to pursue him, to keep him locked away from all the rest of the world, they would not have died in the first place. So maybe...maybe the responsibility and burden was theirs to share. Maybe they were joined in their sins.

Just when she thought she felt a fresh wave of tears pricking at her eyes, tears she certainly didn't wish to shed, Maiev heard the sound of lowered voices coming from further down the beach. She was on her feet in an instant, blade at the ready, eyes narrowed as she peered into the darkness and tried to make out the approaching figure. She made her way to the edge of the camp, careful to step over the sleeping forms of the others. She kept the umbra crescent held out before her, but when the shadows finally gave way to a familiar face, she all but threw it down into the sand.

Stopping before her, Malfurion Stormrage gave a slight bow of his head, seemingly effortless in spite of the antlers that adorned it. "Warden Shadowsong," he greeted. "A little bird told me that you required aid."

In spite of herself, Maiev felt a wave of relief rush through her, washing away a plethora of little fears and doubts she had not even realized were there. "Shan'do Stormrage," she breathed. "I knew that you would come." With his aid, surely they could stop Illidan, just as they had done before, and return him to his prison where he belonged, and maybe she wouldn't have to endure anymore needless bloodshed.

Malfurion glanced past her at the small campsite and the bodies there, illuminated by the flickering orange glow of the fires. "Your runner said that there was an emergency," he said, when at last he had met her gaze once again.

Maiev gave a small nod, her expression sober as she paused long enough to return to blade to its rightful place across her back. "Illidan has summoned an army of monsters to his side, the twisted remnants of the Highborne," she began explaining quickly. "They've claimed control of some ancient artifact, though to what end, I am not sure. My lieutenant is dead, slain by Illidan's hand, and I fear that the others may not have the morale to go on."

The druid listened carefully, nodding along as he mulled over her words. Maiev explained to him that the Highborne had in fact survived the Sundering and, having been cast into the seas, transformed into some horrific creatures with scales and tails. She told him of the glowing green orb that had been stolen, and how Illidan had said that with its powers he could finally put an end to his enemies. "He has to be stopped," she insisted, "before he can cause anymore damage..."

Her words dying in her throat, leaving it dry, she snapped her mouth shut as a second figure suddenly fell into place beside Malfurion. All at once, Maiev's features shifted into a look of disgust as her gaze fell upon the slender, dark haired woman, her gown all but transparent as it draped over her skin. "Tyrande," she spat, each muscle in her body tensing one by one. She had no love for the priestess, nor any of the Sisterhood of Elune, and she had certainly not expected the woman before her to come and assist her in the hunting of the very man that had started their ancient feud. "I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here. I struggle to believe you would seek to aid me, all things considered. What brought you, a guilty conscience?"

Malfurion opened his mouth as though he might attempt to end this discussion before it had the chance to begin, but a quick glance from the High Priestess left him silent. "I seek to aid my people," Tyrande amended coolly. "And I assure you, my conscience is clear. All that I have done, I did because I had no other choice. My Goddess has long since forgiven me for any transgressions."

Maiev's gaze flitted only briefly from Tyrande to Malfurion. "And the forgiveness of your Goddess is enough, is it?"

"Enough," Malfurion commanded, his tone deep and filled with enough warning for the both of them.

Tyrande did not so much as glance in his direction, though something dangerous flashed in her eyes; it was hard to say which of them her spite was actually meant for. "I hardly think that you are in any position to judge me, Shadowsong-"

"You slaughtered my Watchers!" Maiev interrupted abruptly, clenching her hands into fists and gritting her teeth. "You attacked the very people you claim to protect, and you freed Illidan, and you-"

"I said enough," Malfurion repeated, raising his voice so as to drown them out. Maiev was almost thankful for the interruption, if only because she was sure she had been less than two seconds away from accusing Tyrande of stealing Illidan from her in the first place. "There are far more pressing issues here than whatever unsettled conflict the two of you have."

Tyrande shot him a pleading glance, but was met with only his stern expression, and so at last she let out a soft sigh. "I suppose he is right," she said slowly. Biting down softly on her lower lip, she extended a hand towards the other girl.

She almost turned away, almost crossed her arms and told Tyrande exactly what she could do with her false offerings of peace. She would have, too, if not for the fact that Malfurion was watching her so expectantly, like a parent hovering over his children. And Maiev knew that she needed Malfurion, as much as she hated to admit needing anyone, knew that without the support he had provided to her she would never be able to stop Illidan on her own, not with the naga protecting him now.

So ultimately, she reached out, took Tyrande's hand in her own and gave it an unnecessarily tight squeeze. "Yeah, sure," she muttered under her breath.

Malfurion gave a final nod, going so far as to offer each of them a small smile. "Good," he replied. Glancing back over his shoulder, he went on to say, "The druids and Sentinels are securing the ship a ways down the beach. I think I'll go and make sure they are alright."

With that, he was gone, the two women left on their own. As soon as he had vanished into the shadows of the night, Maiev snatched her hand away, her scowl returning and her arms crossing tightly over her chest. "So what are you really doing here?" She sneered. "Come to try and steal Illidan from me again?"

Tyrande raised her brows, the corners of her lips twitching into a smirk, but it was filled with far more malice than amusement. "What makes you think he was ever yours for me to steal in the first place?" She rebutted. Memories of their night flashed across her mind, memories that were hers alone, and she would not allow Maiev Shadowsong to try and lay claim to something that had belonged to her for as long as she could remember. They had grown up together, had played together, had been inseparable for all their lives up until Maiev had stumbled into their lives, and if she thought she had any right whatsoever to try and take that away from her, she had another thing coming. "Illidan's intentions with you were clear to everyone except yourself."

Ignoring the dull ache that had formed in her chest, clawing at her ribcage and tugging at her heartstrings, she steeled herself, buried herself further into the confines of her armor. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Tyrande had never been particularly blunt or tactless, but something about the Warden brought out the worst in her, and once she started she found herself unable to stop, the words spilling out like maybe if she could just keep tearing her down, she would give up on this nonsensical pursuit and leave Illidan alone. Because even if she had left him, even if she had chosen Malfurion over him, the fact remained that he had loved her first, and the idea of losing those affections, least of all to Maiev, had unsettled her more that she would have ever cared to admit. The High Priestess jutted out her chin, her long fingers smoothing out the folds of her glimmering robes. "Maiev," she said in the most condescending way possible, shaking her head like she was addressing some pitiful child. "Did you truly believe he loved you? He'd been fawning over me since we were children-"

"If you want him so much, then what are you still doing with Malfurion?" The Warden demanded, cutting her off sharply, angling in as if she might actually attack her right there. She sucked in a greedy breath, knowing the next words would damn near break whatever remained of her heart, if there was even enough left to do so. "You know that Illidan would take you in a heartbeat, don't you? You know that he would drop everything if you went to him, right? You know that I've never stood a chance compared to you, I know you do, and you seem content to remind of this fact, so why do you insist on making Malfurion suffer when you don't love him?"

Tyrande gaped at her with parted lips for a long moment, her skin flushed and her heart thudding agonizingly loud within her chest. "How dare you speak of my husband," she finally choked out, but something about the words seemed to lack any real conviction.

Maiev caught the shift in her demeanor, knew that she had found her weakness, the metaphorical crack in her own imaginary armor. "How dare you call him your husband," she remarked coldly, "when you stand here and battle me over the love of his brother."

Letting out a sharp breath, Tyrande quickly exchanged her shocked expression for another cold scowl. But it was only a front, and the priestess knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. There was this horrible pain in her chest, settling in like a weight against her heart, crushing her ribs and pushing the air from her lungs, a pain that felt unnaturally close to guilt. Maybe because, in more ways than she cared to admit, she knew that Maiev was right. Long ago, she had been given a choice, and she'd chosen to bind herself to Malfurion. Now, she had spent months distancing herself from him, worried that all along she had been wrong, that it was Illidan she should have loved. But then, if that were true, wouldn't she have known that from the beginning? Her and Malfurion may have had their share of conflicts and disputes, but were they really severe enough to throw into question thousands of years of love? These thoughts were nothing new to her, but something about having them thrown in her face out of spite by her rival seemed to make the world around her jolt into perspective.

Shaking her head, she tried her best to chase the feelings away. "If you think I am about to stand here and listen to this, you are mistaken, Warden. You know nothing of my life, or my choices, and I'll not allow you to belittle me for things that you cannot even begin to comprehend." She left it at that, turning on her heel and storming off the other way, and all Maiev could do was watch her go.

In the early days of his life, before his range of movement was limited by the chains that had bound him, Illidan had taken great solace in being able to disappear into the woods, these very woods, though time and trauma had changed them now. Time and trauma had changed him too, he supposed, but there was still something comforting about the silence.

It appeared that the Watchers had managed to take down a good portion of the naga forces, and in doing so had destroyed their ship, the only means of escaping this forsaken island. Vashj assured him that they would procure a new one by morning's first light, but still Illidan felt this great sense of unease, knowing that there were likely more Watchers lingering in these woods. Maiev may have been taken care of in the tomb, but that didn't mean there were others out there that might seek to pick up where she had left off. With the Eye of Sargeras finally in his possession, all the plans were in motion to fulfill his contract with Kil'jaeden.

He had expected this to give him a sense of accomplishment, perhaps some sort of elation at knowing that when all of this was said and done, the demon lord had promised to grant him his heart's desire- Tyrande, of course, was the first to come to mind, the memories of her beauty now somewhat faded and replaced by the brilliance of the light aura that she had become. He should have been happy, or at least something beyond this state of apathy that he felt now, but instead there was just this emptiness tinged with something that felt dangerously close to regret.

There was the repetitive thought running through his mind that maybe possessing Tyrande wasn't really what he wanted. He loved her, of course, had always loved her, and had proven time and time again that there was no line he would no cross if it was done in servitude of her. He may have spent most of his life as Maiev Shadowsong's prisoner, but he had spent all of his life as Tyrande Whisperwind's slave.

But then, even after the night that she had freed him, the night that he had finally been permitted to take her as his own, to feel her and hold her and show her just how much she meant to him, when he had been so certain that she was finally his, that she had realized her mistake and would stand at his side where she had always belonged, Tyrande had still chosen to return to Malfurion. She had lain in his arms, he had told her that he loved her, and she had still picked his brother. So even if he loved her, why would he want that now? She'd had her chance to change her mind, and she hadn't taken it. Why would he want to be with someone that clearly didn't want him back?

Right now, all that he really desired was for these ceaseless thoughts to stop tormenting him. He didn't need to be distracted, not now, not when he was so close.

Closing his eyes for a long moment, he took a shaky breath, tried in vain to exhale Tyrande and all his memories of her right his body. But when he opened them again, he was met not with the darkness and flickering shadows to which he had become accustomed, but rather a distant, blindingly bright light off in the distance. For several long seconds he stared at it blankly, as if he might be able to pull some recognition from it, but in the hollow of his chest, his head was already thudding, because the truth was he would have recognized that light anywhere. Before he really realized it, he was moving closer, drawn to it, and when he stood close enough that it was all he could see before him, he let out a careful, soft whisper, just a single name, "Tyrande?"

At the sound of her name, uttered so quietly she almost thought she had imagined it, she could help but let out a small gasp, leaping to her feet in an undignified motion. She spun around quickly, all the color draining from her face as her silver eyes took in the form standing before her, both frightening and familiar.

"Illidan," she breathed, staggering back a few steps and wrapping her arms around herself almost protectively.

"Tyrande," he repeated, this time his tone much firmer. "What are you doing here?"

The navy haired elf bit down hard at the insides of her cheeks, falling silent for a painfully long moment. If she told him the truth, there was no telling how he might react. There was this sense of fear that she couldn't seem to place, and she hated to think that it was because of him, that someone she had loved for all her life could evoke in her any feeling of dread. But with his eyes narrowed and his horns weighing down his head and his haunting stare tearing into her, she couldn't help the shivers that moved up her spine.

"I, uh," she started, but she was quick to trail off. The silence stretched on, the tension in the air thickening until she thought it might just strangle the air right from her lungs. "There...there was a runner, and..."

"A runner?" he repeated sharply, shifting his weight. He towered over her, leaving her in his shadow. There was only one person that had followed him to these isles, only one person that could have sent that runner. But if she was here to offer aid, then that would mean…

Swallowing hard, she watched as slow understanding crept onto his features. The look of hurt that took over was short lived, but it was enough to cause a sharp pain in her own chest. "You're here for Shadowsong." It wasn't even a question, not the way he said it, just this heartbreaking realization that he had been betrayed all over again. But by the time he spoke again, he had traded that hurt in for anger, and it showed in the way that his wings twitched, and the way that his voice shook. "You're helping her? She's trying to kill me, Tyrande! How could you-"

"She mentioned only the naga!" Tyrande interjected sharply, cutting him off. The lie was clear enough that she was sure he saw it, vision or no, and tasted like ash in her mouth. "She insisted that we send aid because they were being overrun by naga, and Malfurion complied. There- there was no mention of you being here."

Illidan gave a short laugh, shaking his head a little, his wings unfurling slightly and making him look all the more intimidating. In a sudden motion, his hand snapped out to wrap around her upper arm, gripping tightly to keep her in place. Tyrande winced at the pain, but any attempt to get free from his hold only made it worse. "Spare me your lies," he growled. "You knew exactly what Maiev was after."

"No!" Tyrande insisted, shaking her head quickly, flinching from the force of his fingers pressing into her skin, no doubt leaving a series of bruises.

"You knew that she was chasing me down," he insisted. "If she sent for help, you knew that it pertained to me. But it matters not; Maiev is dead."

She frowned slightly at that, but thought better than to correct him. Their business was between them, and she was not interested in defending the Warden, not after all the cruel things that Maiev had said. Instead, she shot a desperate, begging look to him, one that she knew was wasted, for all he could see of her now was the way that her light faltered before him. "Illidan, I didn't want to hurt you. Please, you have to believe me-"

"Why should I?" He demanded, unmoved by her weakness and frailty. "Everything you ever said to me was a lie. I believed that you loved me, but you chose my own brother over me. I believed that you had finally changed your mind after that night we shared, but guess what? You still went home to him." Pausing, Illidan took a slow, jagged breath. "You told me that you would always be there, Tyrande. You and me, right? No matter what, it was always going to be you and me. You said that! But I understand now that you have never meant a word you've said to me. So tell me what reason I could possibly have for believing you now?"

Whatever reply she could have given, it died before it even made it past her throat, swallowed up in a whimper as Illidan released his hold on her, shoving her a little as he did. The force of it made her lose her footing, sent her sprawling to the ground at his feet. Tyrande felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes, a combination of anger and sorrow and loathing and regret; pushing a shaking hand through her tangled hair, she tilted her head back to look up at him. For a moment, it was with a look of tremendous pain, because whether he wanted to believe it or not, she had loved him, had truly thought that they would stand beside each other for all their lives.

But in that moment, it was Maiev's words that echoed in her mind, and it was the memory of Malfurion holding her, whispering to her that he loved her and forgave her for all she had done, and it was the sharp pain of Illidan's bruises on her skin, that jolted her back into reality. The Illidan that she had known and loved never would have hurt her. He would have rather died a thousand deaths than ever lay a hand on her. This creature before her now was not Illidan, just some twisted, corrupted demon that had stolen his place. That Illidan was gone, and chasing his ghost wasn't going to get her anywhere.

So she pushed herself up to her feet, dusted off her robes and drew on all of the strength that had guided her this far in her life. She choked back any lingering ache that may have remained. When she lifted her chin to look back to him once more, her expression was blank, her features composed. When she spoke, there was no malice in her words, just pure understanding of all the things to which she had been blind before. "I was wrong to set you free, Illidan," she told him, nodding slowly as if to confirm her own words. A wave of doubt and hesitation moved through her, but she was quick to cast it aside. "I-I thought that maybe we could...that you and I might still...but I see now that you have become nothing more than a monster. You thirst for power, and for control, but neither of these will bring you strength. That is something that can be found only from within, and whatever strength there may have been inside you, I sense that it is long gone."

Half of her expected him to lash out at her again, and the other half genuinely considered the possibility that he might lose control entirely and kill her right there. But all he did was stand there, mouth agape and wings folding back in on themselves. She couldn't tell if he looked astounded or something almost resembling relieved, but decided ultimately that sticking around long enough to find out wasn't in her best interest, and so before he could change his mind and tear her apart, she turned and took off at a full sprint, silently begging her goddess to keep her safe and crying her final tears over Illidan Stormrage.