Revenge of Kael'thas
Chapter One: It's the Finaaal Countdown
Five.
Tyrande rang a silver bell and took five breaths.
Moonlight was an aura. She realized this while deep in meditation. Moonlight was really an energy that a mortal projected up and out from deep within. Azshara, Vashj, and the other priestesses who had come before had always been wrong. Moonlight was not the touch of the goddess. Moonbeams, like the one Tyrande knelt in now, did not cascade down from the heavens to the earth. People as individuals were like stars, powerful. When they had hope, their passion radiated from their bodies in all directions. They lifted their arms in praise and could direct the angry, pregnant heat up and bless one another. Up, shaft of light! To the stone moon. Show the moon whose daughter you are, beg her to answer and listen for once. And she will, when we are all such good creatures at heart. She must.
Selfish Elune. Cruel Ysera. You abandoned your daughter in the tree and then you stashed away your son, in an emerald thicket. Go on, it is what you both would do anyways, isn't it? Completely undo the story on a whim, because it suits you. We have all the power as servants you could not do without, but still, it suits you. To punish us. The best along with the worst, indiscriminately. And so then, what was the right course? Tyrande wondered whether her sacrifice all these years had been worth it, if the one she loved suffered. Why did Elune not send some sign? Whom should she choose?
The High Priestess of Darnassus' rose brow stitched thus only a little. One could tell she wasn't exactly praying.
"Lady Jaina Proudmore… How long have you been standing in the shadows?"
"No, please excuse me. Go on, High Priestess, and finish."
Tyrande bowed at the shoulders and squeezed her fingers together. The temple garden of Darnassus was in full bloom tonight. Moonlilies were bold, glowing white and fresh. Even the dandelions had been left to go to seed. Such wild, wild generosity in the night garden. Nothing natural would ever be marred in Darnassus, unless the goddess Elune herself requested it. Everything according to Her will. So then why didn't the goddess ever tell her what to do about him—
"Well, I guess I do have to ask," Jaina laughed, "Which one are you praying for?"
Tyrande exhaled. "One of what?"
"Malfurion has a brother, you know."
"Are you teasing me? Because if so, then you can wait directly outside of the sacred garden."
"I prayed for Arthas, once... That was a mistake. And Tyrande, let me tell you—ha! It was also the last time I ever prayed."
The Night Elf woman pinched between long emerald brows and sat down hard, but not before pulling the white silk robe taught over her backside so that she wouldn't wrinkle the cloth. "Why, my child, was that a mistake? In your opinion. You still seem very troubled by your feelings for Arthas. You don't still love Arthas, do you?"
Jaina paced just beyond the edge of the intense natural spotlight. Tyrande sniffed when she spied the tattered edges of the Human woman's denim slacks. "Arthas was already lost, back then. The Light could do nothing for him. And he was already a paladin of the Silver Hand… one really can't get any more help than that."
A gentle jaw scratch, not overly irritated, "But still, I sense that you feel guilty for Arthas' downfall. Did you come for my guidance?"
"Let me tell you something about men like Arthas, Kael'thas, and Illidan Stormrage..."
"Really, if you think that I was even considering Illidan for a slight moment—"
"They want power. That is their only mistress. When it is all said and done, well, they won't be done, Tyrande. They only want more and more power until she breaks their backs and shatters their hips in about a thousand places. It's true!"
Tyrande stood. "Enough of this… vivid chit-chat. I hope that you didn't come here, Lady of Theramore Isle, merely to interrupt my meditations with gossip."
"Gossip? Pfft! Fine. Continue being all high and mighty." Their eyes met. Tyrande was indignant. Jaina made herself busy stuffing long hair up into a sailor's cap. Fast disguise. "Ahem. Yes, something important has happened and I don't want anyone else to know I'm here. But before I tell you what's going on, I want you to promise me that you aren't going to take this little favor of mine and turn it against everything we've all worked for, by taking it up with you-know-who."
"We?"
"The Alliance, Tyrande. I didn't go running back to Arthas years ago when I found out he'd become a Deathknight. I stayed faithful to the cause of Stormwind and Theramore. I made myself accept that Arthas was already lost. And now, I'm telling you to finally accept that Illidan is lost."
"Kael'thas is lost too." Tyrande laughed under her breath. Jaina flushed.
"Actually… Nerdboy, I mean, Kael'thas isn't lost. My fleet and I, oh we found him alright. An armada of Thalassian ships, done in red and gold and intent on their homeland. Clearly, the Blood Elf Prince is about to make his move. His final move, Tyrande."
"Then, that must mean Illidan is…"
"I don't know how the fel Illidan is doing, and I don't care, you dirty mind. That's not my point. Kael'thas somehow figured out how to escape his master in Outland, and his return suits the Alliance. Or, it will when I get done with him." Jaina gave Tyrande a hard look, her blue eyes looking feral in the dangerous extremes and shadows between them. "I came to warn you. When Kael'thas sits on that throne, he's going to find the entire kingdom surrounded. It's going to be like a bear trap, you see. Thrall and I—"
"You and Thrall?!"
"I… well, we're allies. Our solution is going to help both the Alliance and the Horde."
"And you dare to talk to me about Illidan, when you're clearly sleeping with the enemy." Tyrande paced. "No, you'll never be able to catch Kael'thas. He can't have possibly slipped past Illidan. No one has ever been able to fool a Stormrage."
"Malfurion is going to be free soon. It would be really easy to rescue him. I thought that was the part you'd get all hot and excited about, Mrs. Stormrage."
Tyrande frowned.
"…Kalimdor is going to be ablaze with the news. Consider this your forewarning. I hope you'll be kind and not give Thrall any trouble with his soldiers redirected to the Eastern Kingdoms and all. As a personal favor to me."
"Well of course not, that would only implicate me as a cohort to your strange friendship with the Horde. Mathias Shaw, Velen, and everyone else will be wondering how I knew beforehand, and why I kept your sick association with the Warchief to myself. But Jaina, there is something very unbelievable about you journeying here just to tell me to keep my Sentinels positioned exactly as they already have been for years, comfortable within Ashenvale. I sense… you are trying to guess my reaction to the news. Do you think that I'm some friend of Kael'thas?"
Jaina glanced aside, like a jealous schoolgirl. "… Are you?"
"Everyone knows that I am not."
"Then why haven't your people attacked Illidan yet, or at least freed Malfurion? What, exactly, are you waiting for, if you aren't a friend to Kael'thas, who serves Illidan and is pleased to see his brother Malfurion suffer? Unless… it's not Kael'thas you are a friend of, not directly at least. You must be very loyal to Illidan, then. Everything that you've done, or not done yet at this point, Tyrande, falls right in line with Illidan's interests."
Tyrande opened her mouth to speak, but she was horrified. "Who… who are you working for? Thrall? No, not him. He doesn't need to know these things. Mathias Shaw and the King of Stormwind also have better things to do, and certainly not Velen. He's a pacifist. Jaina, why, and for whom, are you pushing me to make a move in Outland?"
Jaina rolled her eyes, and swallowed as if she had a bad taste in her mouth. She reached into her pants pocket, to which Tyrande hopped back and raised hands to defend herself. "…Gum?"
Tyrande winced.
"No? It's Northrend Mint flavor. Funny, though I don't remember buying it… So yeah, did I tell you about how recently I went to Dalaran, and then I had dinner… There were some curious Deathknights—and I thought, 'Wow! Deathknights are actually loyal to the Alliance now? I've just got to chat them up and see what that's all about. Maybe they've even seen Arthas, I bet he's put on weight' and then they gave me some very odd wine…"
"Jaina, come to the point. You seem very unsettled and that is incensing every protective instinct that I have."
"…Well, I woke up the next day and felt so cold. I had this nightmare of Arthas…" Jaina shook her head. "What did you ever do with your letter from him, Tyrande?"
Tyrande blinked. "I threw it directly into the trash of course. I don't know what sort of fool Arthas is, thinking he can just send cordial letters to people as if he's done nothing wrong over the years. And I've lived too long in this world to give into something so silly. In fact, how did you even know that Arthas sent me a letter?"
Jaina looked upset and scratched her head. "I… don't know… Since I got one from him, I assumed that you did as well. I guess. Do you mean that you were never even tempted to read it? I just… how could anyone not? A personal letter from Arthas—"
"Celebrity means nothing in this life." Tyrande waved a hand dismissively.
Jaina shrugged. "Well, ever since the letter and the nightmare I had, I can't go back to Northrend. That was my original point, anyways. I still feel so cold. That just isn't natural, you know? I intend to focus my energy here in Azeroth."
"But you are a member of the Kirin Tor. Dalaran is locked in battle with Arthas. If you are going to decline their desperate offer for all mages to return and lend support… How can you speak to me of patriotism and loyalty to the Alliance, when you would abandon your own allies? What about Alleria's sacrifice? Or, Vereesa Windrunner? These days, even Lady Sylvanas has got the nerve to establish a presence in Northrend." Tyrande gave a tight smile, "…regardless of what Prince she once belonged to."
"Look, are you going to leave Illidan alone, or save Malfurion, or what? I want to know. Come on, Tyrande, how much longer can you really keep those legs closed?" and Jaina popped her gum.
Tyrande crossed fists up into her armpits, truly vexed. "Frankly, Jaina, I should just dispense with words and slap your face. First, that you would sneak into my temple, and now for accusing me of something that you always knew precious little about—"
"Excuse me? My love life may not be perfect but at least it's not thousands of years' worth of shameless emotional affair. The physical isn't far off either is it? But how do you and Illidan talk, hmm? At least Thrall and I are face to face like normal lusting people. And after all this planning and burning for one another, what do you two have planned?"
"I will go and get Malfurion, of course, and that's all you need to know, Jaina Proudmoore. Thank you for the warning regarding Kael'thas, but please go and have a good night!"
"Not quite yet. There is another reason why I came by, unannounced." Jaina lifted her hands, and began to conjure blue magic. A portal coalesced from globes of pulsing energy until finally it was wide enough for a person to step through. When that was done, Jaina held Tyrande's arm, pulled her out of the way, and beckoned to the magic with the other.
Three figures emerged. The shortest one was dragged forth, scaley green wrists bound, and hissing. Yellow eyes flashed open and Tyrande gasped when she saw it.
"Lady Vashj… Guards!"
"Shh, calm down. I've already got Vashj under guard, don't you see these two handsome sailors holding her shackles? Boys, will you look and see who has no confidence in the Theramore Navy?" the two Human men holding onto Lady Vashj winked at their boss and Jaina smiled back. "Now, listen closely. My ships were in the North Sea on reconnaissance when they observed Kael'thas almost kill her. She was heading straight toward him with a fleet of sea turtles. But Kael'thas sent a phoenix diving into the water to flash-fry Lady Vashj and all her friends. And that his how Thrall and I know Kael'thas is planning something big. If he has enough courage to go this far, then the Triumvirate in Outland was surely broken a long time ago. And so then, what of Illidan? Latest reports still peg the full Demon Lord as the master of the Black Temple, but for how long when Kael'thas is this belligerent? Illidan will fall too, Tyrande, it's only a matter of time." Jaina waited to see what Tyrande would say, but the Night Elf woman was taking slow, patient breaths. Contained fury? Or, regret? "After the battle, I ordered my sailors to fish the bitch out. Surprise, surprise, the so-called Queen of the Naga used her dark magic and managed to live through even a phoenix bombing. I don't dare keep her on board any of my ships, but I figured that you would know best what to do with Darnassus' greatest criminal."
Tyrande's voice wavered, "She… you should have taken her to Stormwind. Why aren't you following the laws of our Alliance? And working with Thrall secretly… Jaina Proudmoore, you have too much power in all of this. Please do not tell me that you are, after all this neutral posturing, very much your father's daughter. Before this meeting, I found you clever and kind, though petulant… you've intervened in many desperate situations and given hope to so many. I respected you because you were like a lone star. But now… What has made you so very angry?"
Jaina just focused on blowing a very large green bubble of gum. It finally popped and Tyrande breathed out through her nose. "Wake up, Vashj. Have you nothing to say to me, after all this time? After you and Azshara attempted to give our people over to the Legion? And what of Illidan?"
Vashj lashed her muscular tail, showed teeth at Tyrande, but nothing else.
Jaina pulled Tyrande still closer and whispered into her ear, as if they had been girlfriends. "She's more than a bit confused, but you had better not be. Make up your mind, soon. Now, I have to run and make time before Thrall finds out I even stopped here. He probably would have wanted Vashj for himself. But you'll take good care of her, won't you Tyrande? Nor will you use this news of Kael'thas against our Alliance. Remember what I said."
Jaina looked both ways, and sneaked back through the night sage bushes with her sailors. Then, several flickering points of violet arcane magic, and all the Humans disappeared.
Tyrande made fists at her sides. "And so, we meet again, Vashj."
"I ssshall sum up my crimes in Outland very quickly for you. No need to torture me, oh great and ssself-righteous one."
"No, I will leave that to my Sentinels—"
"While you dreamed of him, and cried for him, and no doubt prayed for Oscur'Shalak… I sssslept with him." then the Naga woman smiled, really smiled, some of her teeth chipped now, her scaley headdress torn at one edge, the snakes all writhing slow-sickly in her hair. "And Illidan, he loved it. Not you. It was never, ever you."
Tyrande shouted Vashj down, asserted that it wasn't true, and then really had the Sentinels lock her up. The High Priestess rushed out to the temple anterooms afterwards, hurrying past shrines and libation bowls, statues of Elune and the stone-faced children of Cenarius. Tyrande slipped into her bedroom, yanked shut the veils covering her windows, pulled robes and maps from the trunks, along with moonstones, maps, pearl jewelry, sheer red scarves, anything for him!
Four.
In Shadowmoon Valley…
There were four druids and a few Sentinels in Tyrande's covert entourage. Another army of Sentinels was stationed far ahead, at the prison site Tyrande had always known about, but never visited. Arch Druid Fandral Staghelm led the way, because the High Priestess did not trust him to lead Darnassus alone. It was what Tyrande last remembered before drifting to sleep. Warm nightsaber moved beneath her now, big shoulders roving rhythmically. This was a terrible time to lose one's grip on things, but Jaina's warning compelled the Night Elves to get going and stay moving since beyond the Dark Portal. And Tyrande felt she had already been racing toward him for thousands of years. Eversince…
You are wearing the golden coral robe, from Starfall.
Tyrande lifted her chin. Fel green bushes and black rocks all around. Something like a goose-flock of druids leaning over their sabers in feather armor, sharp 'V' formation. She was at the center of it all. Absolute safety… and so the High Priestess let both painted eyes drift shut once more. The faithful were already blessed moonlight, and one needed only to project the power in the face of danger. In that way—hadn't she told as much to Jaina?—Elune was always with the good, wherever they went.
Oh, no, my love. You are not dreaming. A thousand empress oysters were fished from the sea on that day. Their innards wasted on the salt-stained deck. Salt and blood. Pearly skins then crushed by sailors' callous hands, even as the ship bounded courageously home again… In the Sense Parlours of Azshara, virgins boiled the holy pearlescent grains, mixed, and painted the shimmering mixture on white winter moths' silk. Woven by loom, and at last stretched across your hips. All for me. Did you think I would not recognize in that dress? My Starshine…
Tyrande awakened gasping, and clutched the front of her golden robe closed. How had the buttons come undone? Plucked apart, one by one... "Illidan!"
Rich, roiling laughter returned in the High Priestess' mind, while wary Sentinels checked back over their shoulders.
Tyrande kept her veiled head down and pressed her palms together reverently. No, she had only been praying for him, nothing to be alarmed about. In a whisper, "We cannot speak together like this, not anymore. Please… I can only give you one last message. This comes directly from Thrall and Jaina Proudmore who have witnessed it themselves: Kael'thas is coming for you."
You could have warned me of that from Darnassus. You could have done so covered head to toe in a mourner's regalia, with onyx shards of tears sewn, so daring, between your swathed breasts. High Priestess, you could have mourned him and not me, and when I called in your mind, you could have told me to go away forever, to the dankest pit of hell. But yet, you are in my Outland. You have come to set up court in my lap, NOT in his. Admit that the taste of my sex has never left your mouth. You crave me.
Tyrande looked up from her mock-prayers to see Fandral almost turned around in the saddle. He scrutinized her from far down the length of his own prowling Nightsaber.
"As you were, Fandral."
"I see that you were praying for dear Malfurion's soul? Come, Sentinels, let us all pray for the perfect salvation of our stolen hero. If not, then Darnassus has no chance to reclaim the rightful Path of the Paw. It is a relief, after all these years, Tyrande, to finally see that priestesses and their ilk are all good for something."
Several women in violet armor muttered about the vain Archdruid under their breaths.
Tyrande swallowed. "I am but a chased doe between you two. Perhaps my destruction has only ever been the solution. I… Oh, how I hate how stifling it's been. And I've been shackled to an impossible situation, to an impossible, shifty people, to an impossible and unreadable goddess for so long, Illidan!"
Hear me, Tyrande. Only I have the power to end you. And then, I can begin you.
Tyrande's fists shook as she clutched the bridle of her white riding cat. Her wet eyes flitted west where Illidan showed her, and then her gaze returned to the startled Sentinels, Fandral, and the narrow rock path they all tread together.
"But I already tried to escape this, desperately. So many times, I risked myself to reach out to you, and then to change their minds about what occurred... But I only offended our people, and Malfurion accused me of profaning this marriage. Illidan, no. Please, no more. He is your brother. The very survival of our people rests upon his shoulders. Elune herself will no longer speak to me. I've theologized differently, but no, I am broken, and tired, and done after thousands of years. An old woman, dried up. In the same way that I cannot seize moonlight from the goddess whenever I want, and for whatever purpose my wild heart desires… Illidan believe me, I tried but, I cannot save you."
"…Priestess? Are you alright?" a Sentinel asked, because even Fandral, at the head of their procession had heard by now, and he was scowling.
"Fandral. I want you to… I need for you to take the reins of my cat."
"Excuse me? But isn't that a job for one of your petty little—"
"DO IT NOW!"
You were a fool to come into my realm, this close to me, Tyrande, and think that the heat of your flesh so near to mine at last… Would come to nothing.
Fandral reached when he feared he heard Illidan's voice passing over the High Priestess' lips, but the druid's silver fingertips missed, just missed. Tyrande screamed. Her white eyes grew terrified and bright. The Sentinels raised their weapons but could not assist their leader, because there was no visible enemy. The powerful Priestess moved on her own, though her tears and her terror betrayed it was not of her own volition. Even as Illidan's powerful voice echoed in their ears, after the first time in so long, Tyrande rode away from them. Perhaps to her friends, it seemed that the High Priestess knew of a secret threat that the goddess in her infinite wisdom had revealed, lightning-struck, into her greatest servant's mind. The women soldiers left the flustered and hesitant Fandral behind. Each woman raised her handscythe and rushed after their zealous queen into whatever it would be.
Tyrande and her four guards raced down from the rock ledge, Archdruid Fandral shouting where he reigned in at the hill's summit. Before the women, air itself bruised black in a tall wound that could have swallowed the entire mountain they'd been scaling. Tyrande screamed as her deranged cat frothed at the mouth and charged deep into it. Rock, fel green sky, and Fel Orc legions now coming at them warped and wavered on the horizon as the portal faded. It burned at the edges, pulsed in dream-white.
From the top of the rise, Fandral dismounted and knelt, unable to believe what he saw. "Dream magic… but only her Oscur'Shalak, the prophet can do that?"
And then the air snapped straight again. The savage red Orcs ran barefoot and hacked the forlorn Sentinels to pieces.
"The rest of you druids, with me! To Malfurion, and quickly!"
Not long ago, at the Black Temple…
"Three."
Mavia the Maneater was a clever succubus. She curtsied on tiny orange hooves and smiled at Illidan Stormrage with all of her sharp, canine teeth.
"I am going to beat you, when you are clearly lying to me. I ask you again, how long have I been asleep, and where is Kael'thas?!"
Mavia strutted before Illidan's shadowy throne, and tapped the curve of her whip against a happy black lip. "Master, it has been three weeks since Tempest Keep burned. I promise. Search me, I am not lying to you."
A clawed hand reached out of the darkness and beckoned. Mavia forced her smile wider, as red torchlight flickered along the walls of the Blackened Shrine.
Fennore the Immortal spoke in the demon woman's mind. Of course a Bloodknight loyal to Kael'thas would play these sorts of games, with demon magic. Go on, my Mistress of Oblivion. I will not abandon you…
"I admit, my Lord, that—though I am not lying—I do still fear your wrath, after all this time. I hope that I have not done anything else to upset you, while I was absent?"
Oh, how very good. I adore you in this moment, Mavia.
"Did you hear something?" Illidan asked.
"…only a fly buzzing in my ear." And then the succubus sat carefully in Illidan's lap.
The Demon Lord lay a large hand across her thighs. "What is it telling you?"
Just as fast, "That you missed me."
Master Kael'thas says that he needs a little more. Mavia, please try harder.
"Kael'thas?"
Dammit, he's hearing me, speaking to you through our Soul link. He shouldn't be able to hear me—just listening—through the primary link he's already got between himself and Kael'thas.
Perhaps, my sweet, stupid Fennore, if you would not speak so much.
"You know exactly where he is, Mavia."
"Yes, I do, Master Illidan." Mavia spoke carefully in the warm closeness between them, while Illidan smoothed a thumb up along the sticky meeting of her thighs. "Kael'thas escaped your plan to punish him at Tempest Keep because he founded the Coven of Two."
Illidan began to smile, "Yes… this is useful. Tell me more."
Mavia continued, "Fennore the Immortal, the Bloodknight healer, has… become a warlock," she winced, "who would never, never, ever betray your Kael'thas to the Knights of the Blood Nexus. As you long suspected—and I deserve to be punished for keeping it a secret, I apologize, my Master, but I am now the warlock's pet out of necessity, or so Fennore believes. And we both, at Kael'thas' instruction, have created a faction within the Nexus."
"Mmm… and so they are betrayed, I like it. You have come to set up court in my lap, NOT in his. Admit that the taste of my sex has never left your mouth. You crave me, and not Kael'thas." Illidan sniffed against Mavia's cheek.
Mavia, Illidan is toying with another woman right now. It's incredibly hard to read him. He is thinking of Malfurion and Kael'thas at the same time… my, but isn't this hopelessly tangled up. What is this other face? Oh, what an enchanting woman-in-gold dress. Praying over him. Awww… that's sweet. I see, this is an usurped Mind Vision spell, from a priestess. If Illidan can eavesdrop on even prayers—that's more than a little bit disturbing, god-like behavior—then it's no surprise that the full Demon Lord is able to hear whispers of me directing you now, the technique being the same.
But I'm directly in his lap—and in a demonic sense, as well as yours—for fel's sake! Am I not enough to snare either of you?! So this is the fate of the watered-down demoness. Made a Bloodknight too, or rather, given the kiss of fel-death.
Please put your succubine pride aside, dear, when we're working… Light be damned?! It's Tyrande! Illidan is chatting up Tyrande!!!
WHAT?!
"Yes, I also find this very hard to believe."
Mavia floundered, "…What is hard to believe, Master?"
Illidan smiled at her, dangerously. Handsome elven features were still strikingly evident, though demonic forces had pushed heavy horns up from his skull, and burned runes into that wide, expanding chest.
Breathy, "Play a little game with me, Tyra—Mavia. I did recently awaken, after all."
Ugh… this is really getting awful. Does the Coven Master have what he needs yet?
Why in the hell is Illidan speaking to Tyrande? And that flapping-in-the wind gold number is really unbelievable… is she in her nightclothes, hanging desperately from the temple balcony in Darnassus? Really! Is he chatting her up all the way across the nether to Azeroth?
MASTER FENNORE!
It's just… incredible what he's saying to her. You should hear it, Mavia. Twisting her conscience like that…Well, you and I have both heard the 'Malfurion is not my brother' bit before, but now this thing about him needing to save Tyrande from herself, being able to 'end her' and 'begin her.' Now, if that isn't an allusion to fucking right in the middle of a theological discussion, I don't know what is…
"I grow impatient with you, Maneater."
Mavia forced another smile, faced Illidan, and then let the sweat of their bodies allow her to slip, slow, from his grasp. But really only because her Master Illidan surely knew where Mavia was going. She ended on her knees before the throne, and parted the muscular wine-colored thighs.
The succubus paused before she committed to the act, a growl forming in her mind. Fennore, I warn you, I am about to do something that you promised me I would never again have to do, under your control.
A moment more… Oh, disgusting, he's attempting to speak to Kael'thas as well, when he's doing this. Good thing we found a way around that, though, Master Kael'thas can't hear him. Three Soul Links up at once? Really, my stomach is lurching as it is.
When I return to Quel'danas, Master, I am going to kill you.
"… Lady Vashj has fled Outland, and I cannot feel Kael'thas' Soul Link any longer. I miss him, Mavia."
Mavia made a face, and then licked up along the inside of Illidan's thigh. One small consolation in all of this. She could be honest, at least, in this one way. "Kael'thas? Yes, I miss him too."
White light flashed behind them and it woke up the other demon women in the room. Illidan stood, his brow flickered with guilt, and he threw Mavia aside.
Disappear. I will call for you again when you are needed, you treacherous bitch.
Fennore wondered, Wait, who's talking now?
I AM! Now, get the hell out of this channel. That, of course, was Kael'thas.
Tsk. Of all the names you've ever called me, my Prince…
At last, silence.
Two.
Only two people remained when Illidan was done hiding the evidence of his true nature. Mavia had faded into shadow, disappeared. The pained look on Tyrande's face intimated that she had, grudgingly, always known. And now she was in the throne room of the Demon Lord of Outland.
Illidan watched Tyrande for a long time. Tyrande made fists at her sides and then unclenched her angry fingers. She raised her chin, and stopped her long elven ears from trembling too much.
"I hope you know that I don't consider you a man, for forcing me here like are not a man if you won't take responsibility for your own failures. Our love is a casualty of the war you started, Illidan. What will Fandral and the druids think of me now? The cause of the Sentinels is lost, my reputation ruined!"
"What sort of woman are you, who would not take responsibility for her own passions? This is about justice. We began something at the start of our lives that is not over yet. Elune and laws be damned!"
Jaina warned not to do this. Tyrande thought of their Alliance as Illidan swept her up off her feet—oh, he had practiced this sort of thing, so obvious. And then he strode to the bed grinning like a fiend, snapping webbed wings open when at last, he set her gently down on a wild fur pelt.
Tyrande said, "I know about you and Vashj."
Illidan kissed her hand, clearly considering his next move.
Tyrande slipped the littlest fingers of each hand beneath the straps of her golden robe, and let it fall gently free of her torso. "But who am I to judge? I hadn't any hope either. You went after the women you could have, and I allowed the one person I'd shackled myself to sneak away from his Emerald Dream and have me on rare, warm nights." She looked down at herself, ashamed. Illidan reached his hand out and felt dark bruises, finger-sized, along her hips. "Don't kill your brother. I was the one who did this."
"He hit you?"
"No, as I said… I bruised myself. I enlisted a stupid novice priest to help with the burns, because I wanted Malfurion to stop touching me. He thinks that I have another lover, a dangerous person… But I don't care, the result is that I haven't known a man—especially not Malfurion, in three whole years."
Illidan looked away. "Tyrande, why did you never tell me how terrible it was?"
"Because Malfurion thinks you are the very one who did this to me."
Illidan stood. "But why would you dare to go that far? Isn't the rift between Malfurion and I already enough of a gulf? And you and I have only ever spoken through magic, you never allowed me to tempt you. At that, if I'd succeeded after all these years, I would have never dealt with you so harshly." A growl, "You are not the woman I remember."
"Keep your hands there, Illidan." She seized his wrists and looked to him desperately. "Please, don't let go of me. I mean for you to fully understand. You see, when Malfurion found out… about the real affair I had, with some stupid young novice priest, I made it so that my husband would not shame me publicly, and give me over to my enemies among the druids. Malfurion would never want people to know, after struggling for thousands of years, that he lost me to his brother."
"But I never did get to have you." Illidan took a deep snuff of the air between them, then closed his eyes, savoring it. "Forgive me, when my mind is reasonably trapped elsewhere. It was a clever plan, Tyrande, I will give you that. But, you also risked that self-righteous bastard turning vengefully on you, like a rabid nightsaber."
"I was unhappy in my marriage, but I could not get out. Nor could I endure Malfurion's neglect any longer, Illidan. If Malfurion had become so angry with me, that he would have thrown me from the edge of Teldrassil… So be it. I would have rather died with him fully believing that he failed as a man and a husband, than to live as a victim of mad Ysera, her twisted Emerald Dream, and the over-proud men she collects to do her bidding. So much has changed between Malfurion and I over the years… but after Ysera got her claws into him, it became clear to me that there would be no going back."
Tyrande bowed her head and clutched the gold dress just beneath her belly button. Nude, but somehow modest now, her true shame having been revealed.
"It worked. Malfurion believed that it was you making a way for us to be together, with your dream magic. And better yet, knowing that you had grown in power that much frightened him. He believed that I belonged to you. Malfurion was afraid to find fault with me, and so anger you. In the end, he decided to tell his druids not to push the issue of my fidelity, and then went back to work in his Emerald Dream. But, that was not the end of the lie, Illidan. Not long after, my spies delivered news of your death at the hands of Saturna Whiteblade."
"Tyrande… I already told you what happened with Kael'thas' woman."
"Yes you did, but that was only months after the event. I knew, even before you spun a tale for me to believe, what had truly taken place."
Too calm, "Tell me, what was the name of your spy?"
"You were chasing Kael'thas' lover and forcing her to have sex with you, around the same time that I claimed to be the object of your adoration. I feared that, Malfurion, once he found out what you'd done, would see that I had been lying." Tyrande glared at Illidan, "Because if you could have had me at last, Illidan, everyone in Azeroth and beyond knows that you would never have ruined that chance."
"I wouldn't want for anything else in this life, that is true."
"I was dealing with so much at home in Darnassus, I wouldn't dare share with you what I was going through, alone. I didn't want to involve you, when I had no idea how you would react. I'd only just barely kept my husband and my position as High Priestess. But then I learned that you'd died. Before anyone else in Darnassus could catch wind of the news, I arranged to disappear. I meant to come to Outland, resurrect you and salvage the situation with your friend Kael'thas myself, if no one else had the courage. But, when I arrived… N'shatai told me what had happened. The Demon Huntress was my spy closest to you."
"The Night Elf Demon Huntress that Mavia killed… of course she belonged to you. She was a Stormrage of ancient relation, we share many physical and magical talents. Spitting image of me, really. N'shatai was one of my favorites, apple of my ego; I would have never suspected her."
"Yes, I had depended upon that for years—"
"I tried to set her up with Kael'thas once."
Tyrande blinked. "I… don't see why I ever needed to know that."
"I'm impressed at how you out-schemed me, Tyrande."
"But if it's all the same to you, let's not speak of your odd matchmaking skills again." Illidan laughed, but Tyrande spoke over him, "Soon after your attempted murder, N'shatai informed me that you had tricked the Bloodknight Fennore into healing you from the mortal wound Saturna gave. And Kael'thas had lived through it as well."
"Lady Vashj and I conspired to put a collar around Kael'thas' neck, so that he would not run off to the Burning Legion."
Tyrande nodded that she understood. "Crude, but efficient. And I also noticed that you were able to supplant Malfurion in your mind with Kael'thas, which eases the madness. Good."
Illidan looked at Tyrande as if he were seeing her for the first time.
"But you resolving the nasty situation on your own left me in a terrible situation. All the powerful people in Darnassus were holding their tongues because Malfurion did not want my affair with you—the imagined affair—to be made public. However, he would soon learn of what Saturna had suffered, and then the lie to my husband would be made obvious." Tyrande scratched her head, "And to have lied about sleeping with a man who was supposed to be my enemy, in addition to the real affair with another priest, too young for me… it all sounds so desperate, Illidan. Well, it was. I was frantic at the time. Now, the druids would learn of how desperate their High Priestess had become. They would believe my ability to rule had been compromised."
"…Has it been compromised?"
Tyrande smacked Illidan's shoulder. "You have a terrible sense of humor, Illidan Stormrage."
"But you didn't answer my question."
"And so I… I told my spies that I had a vision, and that they must help me to convey it properly to the kal'dorei. Together, we fabricated evidence that I was the one who fought you, Illidan, and left that white scar across your chest. I said that Elune bade me to do it, and then she inspired me to resurrect you, to show compassion and bring you back so that you could have another chance at life. I completed the effect by returning home and telling the druids that you, Illidan, had seduced and manipulated me all along and that I went down to the Black Temple to fight you in the interest of justice. I barely managed to convince them, with the help of my spies. In the end, they were more satisfied to believe that Kael'thas had made up the lie about some grand sacrifice by his fangirl lover, in order to redeem her after quarrelling with you, and save face before the Blood Elves. I think it was more that than my own marital distress that won the druids to my side. It was a useful story to share with the other leaders of the Alliance as well. Today, they all firmly believe that I was seduced by you and then went down to the Black Temple to triumph over you. They believe that Elune compelled me to do it, and that I am a good wife to Malfurion for making a stand against you. Well, not Jaina Proudmoore. She's been sniffing around me for years, but I don't trust her. Especially recently..."
"But Malfurion had been captured and imprisoned by my Fel Orcs long before then."
"Yes, without my knowledge, Malfurion went to confront you about the affair by himself. I only found this out later."
"Three years ago."
Tyrande nodded warily, and covered her face. Illidan sat down alongside her and thought. "The Night Elves now believe that Elune forgave me, for everything I've done in Outland."
"Yes, because I lied to them."
"But you are her High Priestess, it might as well be the truth. I can return home."
"I was never so foolish as to make them think exactly that. Illidan, didn't you ever wonder why I never came to see you here, in Outland? It wouldn't be a friendly visit, such a thing could never happen between us. You act like a villain. You lie and you murder. It would upset a great deal many people if you simply strode back into the holy city."
"However, there is a chance now that I can, because of you." Illidan leaned over and touched her cheek. "And that you were happy to lie to Malfurion, about having an affair with me… the longing behind that isn't lost on me, either, Tyrande. Why, when you knew how you felt in your heart of hearts, did you ever come to Outland intent on freeing my brother instead? Were you simply going to ignore your feelings for me?"
"Because I… it's very far-fetched, isn't it? Borne out of the desperate effort of a woman in a broken marriage who loved you, knew of the real trouble you were in when you transformed into a full Demon but chose to neglect you. Then, one day, I suddenly found myself mourning you. I just couldn't let it end like that between us! Perhaps thousands of years of waiting and hoping for either you or your brother to make me happy… has at last made me desperate and delirious! Illidan, it is amazing that Darnassus believes my lies, but in the end, I know that they would never accept us. We've both done too much. I became afraid when Jaina Proudmoore confided that Kael'thas might come and take you away from me again. And then, you have betrayed and hurt Kael'thas so much, I believed he had a right to seek justice. Perhaps I should have let him…"
"You would stand by if Kael'thas attacked me?"
"No, I would never let that happen again. Not to you, my true love… Oh, I am so confused. This isn't right, but yet I want it. And I've prayed about this, Illidan. I've begged Elune for guidance, but the goddess no longer speaks to me. Has she given up on me? The only thing I felt sure of when I left Darnassus for Outland was that Malfurion refuses to divorce me, so then there is more of a chance to reconcile with my husband and hold onto power whether Elune sends her moonlight to me or not, than there was ever a chance for you and I to make a nest in all this chaos."
Illidan kissed her cheek. "You are a politician then. I am impressed that you were able to risk so much, gamble with such high stakes and win, Tyrande."
"I gambled nothing. You brought me here without my consent… I fear I may regret that too."
"There is something about power, that only being a full Demon Lord has taught me." Illidan quickly banished sadness from his features, summoned anger to do it, "Sometimes, it is necessary to deceive, for the greater good. If the goddess Elune has ceased speaking to you, then perhaps it is not you who has gone astray, High Priestess. Suppose something is wrong in the world, and Elune can't reach you…"
"No, that's blasphemy. Don't begin to say things like that—"
"Ysera has gone mad. The blue dragons have forgotten themselves too, I've studied this. And the bronze, also the black… I had a vision once. I tried to explain to Kael'thas, but he wouldn't listen—"
"Oh, Illidan don't. No more of your mad fantasies about time travel and switching fathers… You have convinced yourself that Kael'thas is your brother and that is enough."
"Well then, will you at least consider, for once, that it isn't the gods who are perfect, inviolable. Perhaps we are pristine creations, only doing what we are meant, according to the natural order. If Cenarius can die, if the Titans can abandon us, if Hakkar can plot to corrupt mortal souls, and Arthas—a mere man—if he can claim to be a Death God… then Elune can fall silent when her people still need her." He whispered soft against Tyrande's ear, "And in that case, it is not your fault."
Tyrande opened her eyes wide, mesmerized by his words. "Oh Master Deceiver. I am afraid… I am afraid of what it might mean, if I don't believe you. It all makes such horrible sense."
"I am afraid of what will happen to you too, Tyrande, if you do not see what I see. Please, stay away from Malfurion. Remain here with me. I love you most."
"There is one problem with this plan, if we are going to try… Kael'thas is coming to kill you."
Illidan finished undressing Tyrande. He kissed her old wounds. "Weren't you the one who gave me a conscience? Who told me to get to work on Kael'thas not long ago, while he was at Tempest Keep? You begged me to gain his forgiveness."
"But I never meant… Kael'thas would have to mean it, and you grow from it—"
"I am sitting next to a beautiful naked woman who lied to her husband about wanting me, and then went on to love and help me in unbelievable ways over the last three years, when I did not deserve it. Tyrande, it does not matter what anyone else thinks. Least of all Kael'thas, when I have him in my pocket. Is there any truth at all to the vision you fabricated? Do you, at least, forgive me?"
"I… I know how much you were hurting. What you did was wrong, but perhaps if I had been there for you all along…?"
Illidan kissed her. "No woman, Illidan sounded lost now, and he struggled, has ever loved me, as you have. But by the same token, surely you realize that, for how desperate and loyal you have made me, no man will ever love you again, as I do."
"Stop… twisting my thoughts… stealing the reigns from me."
"I won't. I can't. Impossible for me to think anymore, when you are so close, and breathing. You are finally, really here with me…Your sweet breath against my skin. Tyrande, my love, you started this, to save yourself from Malfurion, and now we have a chance together. You may have always lacked the true guile to follow it through, but I love that about you. And I believe… what you will soon love about me, is that I am mean enough to finish this deception. But only if you will choose me at last, Tyrande.
Now, swear it. Give yourself to Illidan and only Illidan, forever."
Tyrande moaned deep in her throat and embraced Illidan as he lay over her. "…I do."
"I asked you… to say my name."
"Faster, Illidan. Harder, Illidan. Bite me… Illidan."
One.
One final point of violet light remained, as Kael'thas blinked into view and the magic dissipated. He knew the dank smell of fel and brimstone that was the Blackened Shrine. He knew the cold stone throne, the table set with crumbling skulls, the shredded pieces of his favorite couch, the crimson stain on the floor, where Saturna's corpse had once lay mute and staring up at her murderer.
And, he also knew, painful and remarkable intimate awareness, what it looked like when Illidan Stormrage was completely unguarded. It was precisely at the moment—and Kael'thas began conjuring angry red flame now—the very moment that the selfish, unfeeling, manipulative Demon man had his pants down, given completely given over to lust—the one last real emotion a Demon could feel besides fear, hate, and pain—because lust was a kind of fear. It was, in truth, thick desperation, a terror very close to the heart where love resided. The real danger of love never being recognized or sated was a nightmare even the most evil of creatures could understand.
"You old fat ass… I hope you like your women charred." Kael'thas sneered, and let the fireball go. Mid-hump. Perfect timing.
Illidan's latest victim screamed while Kael'thas conjured another spell. This one, shadow. Illidan looked ridiculous, flapping his wings to put out the fire Kael'thas had set against the tattered webbed skin. There would be no flying away from this, no escape. Another flick of his palms. And now, an excellent purple shadow-burn bruised across Illidan's forehead.
"Ma'am, do you know what he did to the last woman he threw down on that fur pelt? The last, real, mortal woman he ever had?" Kael'thas blinked across the room once Illidan had his pants back up and sprinted toward him. "He took her wrists in one great greedy palm, stretched them high above her head. Then he forced her…" he couldn't even finish, "She's dead now, because of him! And this is what happens when ex-boyfriends, once-fiancés, robbed lovers, find out the truth and come back to settle the score, isn't it Illidan Stormrage?"
"Kael'thas! Stop it!"
"…Tyrande? What in fel are you doing—"
Then the Blood Elf Prince was knocked off of his feet. He had to scrape at the cracked marble floor to stop from sliding, cut his finger-tips in the process. Pain was clear on his face as he looked up, lit by the green runes glowing fiercely across Illidan's chest as he strutted near.
"She knows, Kael'thas. And she doesn't care. Tyrande loves me. She forgives me."
"How long have you been playing mind games with her, for hours? It took less than a day for you to get to Saturna, and after three years, I am not going to—"
Illidan flinched and glanced all around the dark room. Kael'thas had disappeared, mid-sentence.
Up on the roof of the Black Temple, jagged gray stone, resembling worn elekk tusks warmed to bright white as the Bloodmage re-appeared, holding Tyrande close. Sparkling bits of violet light shimmered into infinitesimal nothing as the blink spell faded.
"You need to stay away from Illidan. It's safe up here—"
"I told you, Kael'thas," Tyrande pushed away from him and pulled her dress back on. "I love him, I want to be with him. And I didn't ask for you to save me."
"Ask me?" Kael'thas pulled on his hair, almost clear out of his skull. "What is WRONG with you, with women these days? That man is insane. He is a rapist and a murderer, it doesn't beg for polite consideration. What are you even doing here, with him? Where is your husband?"
"I don't belong to Malfurion. I want to be with Illidan. We finally have a chance, Kael'thas, listen to me. The people of Darnassus believe that he has been forgiven and it is possible for Illidan to walk away from all of this—"
But when Tyrande turned back around, Kael'thas was gone.
Back down below, Illidan had been ready for him. Kael'thas appeared again, but was soon swept off his feet by the force of curved black horns coming at him. He was rammed against the stone wall, hard. Kael'thas felt the back of his head slam against stone, and then his hair stuck hot against his neck. Red blood, everywhere.
"Tyrande belongs to me. Darnassus belongs to me. You can't stop us."
Kael'thas struggled to get up.
"Did you really come here all by yourself to kill me? Where are your feckless Bloodknights?"
"I would have had the advantage if not for Tyrande…"
Illidan reached out one claw, and Kael'thas cringed, as if he felt a new pain around his neck. But then, nothing.
"Your collar…" Illidan grasped at his own neck now, struggled to breathe.
"I reversed the spell. It took me three years to figure out how to do that. How does it feel?"
Then Kael'thas set his hand-in-glove on fire and punched Illidan in the face.
The inverted collar spell was only a momentary distraction, when Illidan found that not using it against Kael'thas was the way to disempower his slave from reflecting the pain back. Illidan went to get his hand scythes, the twin blades of Azzinoth, and then came around to find a wild phoenix diving at him from the domed black ceiling above. Kael'thas had disappeared again, the place was filled with black smoke. Had he seen the faint flicker of a moonbeam?
Kael'thas came to on the rooftop. Tyrande just finished healing him. "He cracked your skull, you need to stay away from the walls."
"Thanks for the advice, I didn't know we were on the same team. Also, WILL YOU STOP GETTING IN THE WAY OF ME MURDERING THAT MAN?!"
He blinked again, but re-constituted face-to-face with Tyrande, still on the rooftop. "Tyrande Whisperwind, are you counter-acting my spells somehow?"
"It's a faint form of mind control; I've learned a few tricks over the last few thousands of years. Now, listen to me. No one is going to kill anyone else. I have found a way for you and Illidan to live, separately, and in peace."
"Illidan has been waiting to kill me all this time. It is so obvious to me, why don't you realize that? My life was never guaranteed, the moment I become a real threat to him—and your appearance here, ironically, is most likely the last straw—Illidan is sure to eliminate me, when he knows that he can't trust me. But make no mistake, this is not just about survival. I want justice."
"Let him bear the full burden of all he has trespassed in this life. Let me take him home, to Darnassus."
"Whatever lies you told your people… it won't be enough, trust me. You will have to re-take the city as if it were enemy territory. Are you prepared to do that? No, let me handle Illidan for you. I have been preparing for this day."
"But it isn't necessary to fight!"
Kael'thas finally gave up and unleashed a fireball on the High Priestess. Then, he leaned over the edge of the roof, whistled, and threw himself over the edge.
Skybender the phoenix burst through the rock wall of the Black Temple to receive his master, and Kael'thas turned around in the saddle to see that Illidan was in fast pursuit. "How did his wings heal so damned fast, Skybender?"
A hoarse, windy chime was the response.
A phoenix could out-fly a Demon Lord, but not by much. Kael'thas had no need to push the tireless creature, and launched missile after fiery missile at Illidan. While in flight, Illidan was forced to dive and dodge the attacks.
"Who healed you?!" Illidan demanded when he noticed, "Fennore and Mavia are still here, aren't they?"
"It was your high-maintenance, High Priestess girlfriend!"
Flash of white moonlight followed that. The strike knocked Kael'thas from the saddle.
Tyrande was barely within reach, on the back of a white Hippogryph. "I am not… high maintenance."
Illidan clipped his wings up above and dove after Kael'thas. He sheathed his hand-scythes as he fell faster and faster, snatched desperately at Kael'thas as the Blood Elf plummeted toward gray earth. A final look of horror crossed Kael'thas' face, and Illidan reached both arms out to him, regretful.
Then bright blue flame erupted in a flat miasma when they touched. Tyrande's scream tore through the night, and Skybender whipped just below Kael'thas in a hot yellow streak of flame. The two flew a safe distance away, and then soared, looking…
Illidan should have been cut in two. But a few miles off, he lay on the ground, struggling to breathe—and Tyrande knelt close by in her golden dress, healing him.
"Dammit, Tyrande!"
Illidan said something similar when he revived.
"Well, what do you two expect? Am I supposed to just let you die?"
"We are fighting, man to man. I can't win, because of you! And, you already healed Kael'thas."
"You just tried to save him, yourself." Tyrande put hands on her hips.
"But he'd tricked me into it. It was clever. And Kael'thas did, actually, cut me in two with flame—I couldn't believe it."
"I swear to Elune, if you say that 'it was so awesome' I am going to moonfire you until the nightsabers come home!"
A screeching, avian warcry filled the air. Tyrande bent over and covered her long ears. Illidan reached up when Skybender passed overhead, and let the fast bird take him away.
Kael'thas informed Illidan, "We are going someplace else to fight, where she can't bother us."
"Agreed."
High atop Mount Gul'dan, Kael'thas and Illidan faced off. Nothing but black sky above them now, and rapids of slime-green fel lava gushing and swirling thousands of miles below that black peak. Kael'thas rolled up his sleeves and Illidan tossed aside his hand scythes.
"Our magic is equal, all things considered."
Kael'thas nodded. "You have spells, I have spells, that cancels out."
"…Naturally." Illidan made fists too.
Kael'thas spread his feet apart. "Skybender can fly, and so can you. We might as well eliminate that too, since there isn't any room up here for that either. And… we don't want to make a spectacle, or Tyrande might find us. But, don't you think for a moment that I can't still whip you."
A groan, "…This is silly."
"Why! Why did you bring Tyrande to the Black Temple?"
"I didn't bring her, Kael'thas, she came by herself!"
"But you knew I was coming."
"…So? She can't come over sometimes?"
"That's not the point. I've been preparing this for days."
"Yes, yes, I mean, you only ever spoke about wanting to kill me all of the time, Kael'thas. Most frequently when Tempest Keep burned a little while ago. Before she showed up, I had been hibernating, saving my strength."
"Oh. Well, that makes sense. I guess."
"Fennore is a warlock now too, Mavia said... He can project through my Soul Link, can't he?"
"Yes. I tried to predict our fight, but for some reason, the incompetent didn't tell me anything about Tyrande showing up."
"It's not your fault. I was onto him. And also, my Tyrande has always been very distracting." Illidan smiled.
For some reason, they both sat down. They were sort of wheezing and cracking their necks before that anyways, buying time.
"I hate you. I want to kill you, Illidan. But…"
"I know. Not like this." Illidan crouched and hung his head. "Figures. We would get back together on the last day of my life, I suppose."
Kael'thas closed his eyes, meditating. "You and Tyrande don't have a chance in Fel together anyway. Not like me and Saturna."
Illidan just sat there. Kael'thas tried to keep a straight face, but the mistake was only too obvious. Shit.
"She's dead."
Panicked, "Yes, Saturna is dead. Because YOU killed her!"
The skin around Illidan's nose wrinkled. "No… Saturna isn't dead. Is she, Kael'thas?"
Kael'thas unsheathed his Mageblade, Illidan flared his—well, burnt up—wings. Kael'thas had no advantage, he lashed out desperately. Illidan grabbed the man's wrist, pulled him around. They wrestled for control of the blade, but then Illidan slammed Kael'thas' fist into the stone ground, making the precious conjuring hand useless. The Mageblade clattered and scraped along until it feel over the edge of rock.
Illidan put both hands around Kael'thas' neck. "I could have snapped your neck several moments ago. But, I wanted to see what you really wanted."
"…I want you to die."
"Why did you attack me alone? And coming at me with a mere knife, that was not an intelligent effort either. Where are the Demon pets suddenly conjured from the shadows? The Mechanar-made time bomb ticking beneath this mountain? And then you try to distract me with… with panicked lies!"
Kael'thas smiled, "Did I finally make you panic? After all these years…"
"This does not resemble years' worth of planning. I am no fool, Kael'thas. What is your bargain?"
"No bargain… If you are going to kill me, then kill me."
Illidan tightened his grip. "As you wish. You fool. But it does not have to end this way. Not when we are brothers."
Kael'thas began to spit up blood.
"…Is that why you came here, like this, with no witnesses? Not even with a Demon pet conjured? Do you want to finally be brothers?"
Kael'thas said, "Never… you would never let me. With Tyrande here," gruesome coughing, "You have a reason to live and forget about all we sacrificed."
"But if Saturna is alive…" Illidan stammered, "Then you have every reason to deceive me, to use me… Unless I use you back. No, Saturna hasn't survived. Lady Vashj made that impossible. You want me to think that I have no other choice, but to take control."
"I killed Vashj." A sick, lustful smile, teeth smeared with blood. "I flash-fried her, and all her minions, even the tortoises… in the Northern Sea."
Illidan shook Kael'thas by the collar of his robe. "What were you doing in the Northern Sea? Trying to take back Quel'thalas."
"I can do whatever I want now. Not even you can stop me—"
The certain snap of bone, beneath Illidan's nervous, large fingers. Kael'thas' face contorted in pain. His eyes roved to the top of his head. "Not everything…" Illidan corrected. "I just crushed your windpipe. You won't live for much longer. Haven't you learned by now? There never is a warning before strike three with me."
Illidan sat back, and flexed his trembling hands. "Now, you finally have a choice. You can live with me, in the way that I have always wanted, Kael'thas… or not live at all. I cannot live with a brother who would betray me again. I couldn't stand it."
Illidan sliced a claw across the inside of his violet wrist, and let the blood drip into a pool beside Kael'thas' face. Impossible for him not to see it. Impossible for the warlock to misunderstand.
"Give me your hand. Indulge my madness. Forgive me. That is all that I ask. Agree to live in this world with me, as an equal and a friend, not as a monster who betrayed you. I am sorry Kael'thas. I am so very sorry for hurting you and torturing you… in exchange, you will be all-powerful… and free. Free to do as you wish, with me by your side. This is your last chance."
Illidan certainly tried to force the answer through the collar around Kael'thas' neck, but the powerful warlock resisted, even now. Kael'thas managed a smirk at the end, as tears slipped from the edges of his eyes.
And then, he seized Illidan's claw with such life and passionate defiance, that there could be no mistake it had been Kael'thas' darkest wish all along.
Illidan worked quickly, opening his friend's wrist with a twin cut. Next, he knelt and scrawled runes in the blood between them. It clotted black; at one time Kael'thas had, in fact, loved and done favors for the Legion. Illidan ignored the remnants of that foul seduction still in Kael'thas' veins. They twined fingers. Purple magic boiled up from the mix. Smoke caught beneath their wrists, made their palms sweat and run, built pressure, scalded the skin but yet they both knew to still hold on. And then it burst between their fingers, blew their hands apart from one another. Kael'thas was pushed over onto his side with the force, and Illidan jolted back. His wings caught in the sudden updraft and he was forced from the mountain.
When Kael'thas opened his eyes again, he was alone. How much time had passed? Perhaps it had all been just a dream. "…Illidan?"
The powerful Demon pitched down from the sky and landed on all fours. Ground shook. "Yes, my Master? I was flying overhead while you rested, keeping watch."
Kael'thas rubbed the inside of his wrist. The veins, all of them, had gone completely black. "You didn't even go to Tyrande while I was out, did you? That's the greatest longing of your heart, I can feel it. Taste it."
"You did not give me permission to do so, blood-brother."
Kael'thas smiled. He really smiled. "Guess what, Illidan?"
"What?"
"Saturna is alive."
Illidan stood and bowed his head, horns lowered menacingly at Kael'thas. "Yes, I sensed that as well. How did you ever manage to betray me for so long—"
"Is that all you feel, now that I've outsmarted you? Just… betrayed? Aren't you angry? Jealous? Torn up with lust that I've been sleeping with her these last two weeks, happily married to her, and that was the only reason I was not here, slaving after you?"
"I… feel…"
"Come now, your emotions shouldn't still be all broken. This new link with me must have fixed that."
"…happy… for you." Illidan folded hands ontop of his head, and pinched elbows before his face. He tried to rid himself of the notion, but it wouldn't go. "I… she was the only one who ever made you happy. I couldn't even… and she is the mother of your son. And such relief, that the damage I did, when I lost myself in anger and took revenge on her… she has a second chance at life, and so do you. Thank the heavens! Thank Elune!" Illidan raised his dark claws in praise.
Kael'thas was horrified. "No. You aren't happy, you're supposed to feel guilty."
"I've been drowning in guilt for three years, Kael'thas, and Tyrande's prayers for me have been answered. I was so far gone, with Gul'dan's consuming magic, that I could not even pray for myself. But she was right to, I have been delivered! Come, let's celebrate. And you're getting your kingdom back as well, regaining the love and support of your people, after Vashj and I delayed you… this is a glorious day. I want to see Saturna, I want to thank her—"
Kael'thas held out his hand. "You will do no such thing. In fact, you will never again speak her name, or ever reveal yourself to her. Nor to my son. And I don't trust you, I don't believe that you are truly capable of this joy—"
Kael'thas clutched his stomach. Illidan sensed it too, his wings wilted.
"My son… he is not my son. Belorim… is your son?"
"I told you this many times."
"No, you did not! You spoke around the truth, you avoided it… you never made it so clear to me as our Soul Link together is proclaiming it now. And there are so many other secrets between us… the Soul Link never was balanced, was it? But now the pendulum is swinging back my way, directly into my gut, ripping through my very heart!"
"I'm sorry… in my state, I believed that giving my son to you, would help you. The son I had with… the woman whose name I am forbidden to speak. Kael'thas, I beg you to keep him. The boy loves you and knows you, not me. He is terrified of me, and rightfully so. I knew all along that he was mine. I also knew that someone powerful had helped him to come to be when he had no reason to survive what I did to his mother… and he was smart and capable, he was conjuring magic to hide his hooves and horns. You even failed to see the truth."
Kael'thas clawed the sides of his face, paced in a circle. "No… no, this isn't happening. What else? Tyrande has told you that you can go home to Darnassus?"
"Yes, it is a miracle, Kael'thas! And you have helped me… to feel remorse, at last. To feel compassion. To hug you and really mean it—"
"Get off of me!" because Illidan had got to hugging him. "No, you aren't going anywhere. You took so much from me, what in the world makes you think that I would do anything less than make you suffer."
"But I am fully healed now. I haven't felt this clear-minded in so long. Perhaps, not since Cenarius lived."
Kael'thas laughed. "Yes, go on, blame your madness. Well, I've hardened my heart. I am finally seeing all the lies and tricks you've played over the years… it's all playing before my eyes right now, through this putrid Soul Link. You were always in full control of your actions, Illidan Stormrage, and the truth is, you chose to be evil. You chose to murder and threaten me, rape the woman I loved, because you liked the thrill of using so much power. And we were all your pets, trapped beside you, incapable of leaving, chained to the abuse. The world was exactly the way you wanted it, and that, in fact is the vision you had in mind when you forced me to enslave you just now—"
"You had the choice to make for yourself! You gave me your hand, if not then I would have gladly let you die. Is this how you regard me, with no love at all? I wouldn't want to live in that world."
"You are still insane!" Kael'thas shoved Illidan. Illidan was a whole head higher, and it must have felt like reaching up to push his own overbearing father when he was a rebellious young man, "Not long ago you were spewing filth about hating me and not really needing me, except as a brother and plaything, and now you are clinging to these fresh ideas of brotherly love—that is, forgiveness, moving on. And you are going to stand here and tell me that I was always the one in the wrong, who misjudged you? You may have a heart now, you Demon, but you are still the same manipulative bastard who ruined my life!"
"And I see that you have gained my anger and guile."
Kael'thas raised his right hand. Nothing happened at first, but then a flicker of silver flashed between them, and suddenly, the magical Mageblade was back in his hand. "Nice trick, wasn't it?"
"The blade? Well… if it amuses you to call it up from where it fell on the rocks below, then I am happy for you Kael'thas."
"Stop being happy for me!"
"I'm sorry."
Kael'thas raged. "Had it never occurred to you that there was a third option, throughout all these years of tempting me and controlling me? That, perhaps, my hate for you could be so perfect and final… I might find another way out of my situation."
"I put the collar on you to prevent you from joining the Burning Legion, Kael'thas. And the person you thought was Kil'jaeden turned out to be an impersonator. If you are looking for me to apologize for making that path so treacherous for you that it was impossible to take, if I could not completely shut the door, then you won't get one. Wear that collar I gave you with pride."
"I am not talking about the Burning Legion." Kael'thas stalked closer to Illidan, and licked the blade.
"Stop it, Kael'thas. I have been where you are now. You must resist the temptation to abuse the power, or it will destroy you—"
Kael'thas chuckled, put a kindly hand on Illidan's shoulder, and then stabbed him in the side. Stabbed, twisted until he could hear something burst and rip.
"Maybe… I'd like to have all of your power, but none of the mess of dealing with you? Maybe I'd be content to enslave you, own you, and then leave you for dead."
Then, Kael'thas kicked Illidan free of the knife. The full Demon Lord fell and struggled. Kael'thas stood there, cruelly scientific, and made sure that his newest Demon pet bled to death.
Tyrande found Kael'thas by then. She landed her white Hippogryph and went immediately to Illidan.
"No…" she attempted to heal and restore her fallen love.
"You can't do that, Tyrande." Kael'thas shrugged, and looked lost. "I separated his soul from his body—"
"You're sick. You would do to him what he did to Saturna? Why would you make me suffer like this!" she wept, "Do you know that he and I have fought for our entire lives…"
"Shh… shh. Don't cry Tyrande. Illidan would not have wanted you to cry. He would want you to go back to your husband and live on, as if he never existed, like his life never mattered."
"You've become a monster! Did you enslave him? That's the only way you could have overpowered him like this. And he was whole before you killed him, wasn't he? He was cured at last… but still you… Oh, Oscur'Shalak."
"Seer in the Night? Is that what that means?" Kael'thas laughed to himself at first, but then it made his chest expand, rose up in his throat, and he smiled. "Was he a prophet? Then why didn't he see his own death coming?"
"Because, in the end, I gave him hope."
Kael'thas sheathed his dagger and smoothed his blonde hair back casually. "Then… I guess you shouldn't have." Violet magic flared up to shroud Kael'thas, and ended in sparking points of light as he disappeared.
But the voice of King Kael'thas Olvi'athon Sunstrider persisted, "And now I go home to my hot-fangirl wife, to my shining kingdom… to raise Illidan's son that he gave away, rule with all of his power… to live happily ever after."
Tyrande held Illidan's lifeless hand over her own heart, and begged him to come back, even as Kael'thas' words floated over them. So damning, even to someone who had lived his entire life trapped in so much anger, who could only manage, in the end, though it had been his greatest, most passionate effort—to love Kael'thas, if not Malfurion… Illidan had always been broken.
"May you, my beloved darling, my one and true love, rest in peace." Then their lips parted, and Tyrande knew there were no more souls left to save.
None.
A few days later...
Dear Arthas,
I've written, re-written, and torn up this letter many times now. I don't know why I feel compelled to tell you what is going to be common knowledge very soon, anyways… But my spies confirmed it: Tyrande got upset after a little chat we had, and then she ran off to see Illidan. I guess I pushed her into finally picking a side. Then Kael'thas showed up at the Black Temple, and those two finally fought… no sign of either Night Elf, now. Kael'thas got away. Perhaps Tyrande and Illidan are both dead? Somehow… I sense you want me to tell you all of this. You must hate being stuck in Icecrown, and not knowing anything about our world, or our old friends. Well, there are still people who love you. If you get a chance, maybe you can say a prayer for Kael'thas. Thrall and I… I can't say anymore, but we're prepared to make him face the music, if he tries to start any trouble in Azeroth.
Arthas, will you write back, or at least send word of how you're really doing? I haven't seen you in years, and ever since your first letter... I'm starting miss you all over again.
I will try and keep you posted as more things regarding our old friend Kael'thas develop.
Stay warm and lots of hearts,
Jaina
Arthas stretched out on the bed and crumpled Jaina's letter. As for the scribe herself, she lay--frosted blue--and dozing only inches away.
"Thank you for the letter dear, though it wasn't necessary when my Deathknights can always fit in anywhere and just come and pick you up after assignment." He grinned, leaned in and kissed her cheek. "Good work, by the way! Now, are you ready for your next little job? I think I'm really going to like the charming, 'don't you wish your minion was hot like me' spin you tend to put on things. It drives the women wild, sends them running to Outland in jealous, feral rages. And you haven't even used your elite magic skillz yet. I can't wait to see what your cute little tactics do to the men. Jaina? Wake up my dear... Oh, Zabran, get the wine again, she's too cold."
"Ugh... Yes, Masta Arthas."
"Zabraaaan, why so glum? Popscicle?"
"Ugh... No, Masta Arthas."
"Hrmph, you just can't please some minions."