Alliances

The City of Stormwind, once pristine and white, was now covered black with soot. Long had the fires gone out. The people, displaced from their homes, were just now returning. King Varian Wrynn rode on proudly through the gates, behind him was his son Anduin. He led his people back through, a spark a hope in his eyes. Though they had lost much, they will rebuild. Varian dismounted and watched as the trucks and wagons pulled in, carting passengers and whatever belongings they had left, filing through the streets. He heard the snarl of the motor and shaky, squeaky steal as the trucks jiggled their way down the streets. The incandescent lights of the streets were out, power had been cut. He turned, hearing the cry of an infant as a family group passed him, dipping their heads respectfully at him. The statue of Khadgar still was toppled over, broken in half. Varian's frown drew a taunt line across his face.

"I will beat that dragon until he is black and blue," he said.

Anduin rode up beside him and then dismounted.

"He is already black, father," he said. "And I doubt the blue would show up."

Varian turned to the gates, seeing Onyxia's head still dangling by its chain. His eyes narrowed at the head.

"Lady Katrana's head survived," said Anduin, calling Onyxia by her disguised name. "Not even fire can destroy it."

"Black dragons are not harmed by fire," said Varian.

The wind rushed up, blowing a few brown locks against Varian's face. He looked up, his eyes squinting at the sudden roll of black clouds filling the twilight dome above. Flashes of lightning lit the clouds in a shock of blue white. Varian sniffed at the clouds.

"Just what we need," he said. "Rain."

He could smell the metallic smell of the rain as the clouds rolled on over his city. Anduin looked up, the wind blowing his blonde hair wildly around. The survivors, ushered by the guards, began to take shelter as thunder sounded above. Varian continued to stare up at the clouds. They boiled and churned, lighting up purple and blue. A bolt of lightning forked through the clouds.

"We should take shelter too, father," said Anduin.

"There's something about these clouds I do not like," said Varian.

Deep inside of him, he could sense the spirit which shared his body, the wolf spirit of Lo-Gosh, growling and snarling. He could feel the spirit's tail lower down, wagging lowly, ears flattening as the clouds continued to churn above. Varian's jaw set. Leaves blew about him. Doors shut and locked. The king gripped his sword and raised it up, ready to face whatever it was that was about to invade his destroyed city.

"Father," said Anduin.

"You go inside, son," he said. "I will stay out here."

"It's just a storm, father."

"No, it isn't."

Varian's nose wrinkled when he caught the smell of sulfur. The clouds themselves began to light up with a fiery light, lightning still forking through. The clouds swirled around a central point as if to form a tornado right on top of Varian himself. Varian's feet spread wide, gripping the blacken stone and he gave a thrust to his sword. Anduin looked around and then up and swallowed hard.

"Father, we really should seek shelter!"

Varian's eyes flashed when he heard the sound of a deep, monstrous growl coming from the forming cloud funnel above. As the growl sounded above, he heard the thunderous shock of the ground rumbling below, echoing in kind. A tree toppled over, weakened by the flames, crashing upon the thatched roofs. Varian took in a deep breath, hearing the sound of enormous wings flapping slowly at the center of the funnel that threatened to touch down. Lightning lit up a dark shape and two glistening green eyes glowed high above. The dark form became more and more solid as the lightning flashed around it. The clouds ignited with fire, giving light to the shape. It was black, draconic, and titanic. The form was so enormous, it could not even dare land in the Valley of Heroes without crushing everything in site. Varian saw the flash of metal plates along the spine of the great dragon's back and the glow of fiery splits dotted here and there around its scales.

"Deathwing," he said.

The voice echoed out in reply to the hated name: "Don't call me Deathwing!"

"What do you want here?" Varian asked, still holding his sword up in challenge to the Earth-Warder. "Haven't you've done enough to my city, to my country? Get out!"

"I have not done a thing to your city, Varian," said Neltharion. "I have come back to inform you of great news, though."

"Oh, what news?"

"Ultraxion is dead."

Anduin stepped forward, holding a hand up to shield his eyes from the fierce wind.

"That is great news, Earth-Warder," he said.

Varian sneered, shaking his head at the Great Black hovering above in the swath of clouds.

"And where is his head?"

"You will not have it as your decor," said Neltharion in a shock of spite, his deep voice caused the ground itself to tremble. Varian stumbled back, nearly falling to the cobble stone.

"Then what proof you have that he is slain?" Varian asked.

Neltharion shook his head, chuckling deeply at the tiny mortal who demanded the body of his son's death. His wings swept back, dispersing the clouds around him, lightning flickering at the rim of the funnel he floated in.

"I need not to give you proof."

Varian stepped forth against the wind, thrusting his sword at the Black Aspect.

"Then your word that he has died means nothing to me!" he said in a harsh and grating voice.

"Varian!" Neltharion said, his voice reverberating through the ground. The cobblestone cracked beneath the King of Stormwind and Varian stumbled forward, dropping his sword. "I am tried. I am sad and I am tired. I have lost another son this day. I had no choice but to kill him. And I do not wish to treat the likes of little mortals like yourself who will not matter in a hundred years." The Black Dragon's voice ended with a deep growl. "If you wish to become like Garrosh to me, then so be it. I will treat you as such. I was hoping that you would have some sense in that thick head of yours not to get on my bad side."

"That is what I want to hear from you, dragon," said Varian. "Threats! Give me your threats and I will hunt you to the ends of the world. I'll put your head up right against Onyxia's!"

"No!" Anduin called, placing himself in front of his father. "Wait!" He turned to Neltharion. "I know you really don't mean it, Earth-Warder. We are grateful you were able to destroy Ultraxion before anything else horrible would happen."

"Anduin," said Varian.

"This has to stop," said Anduin. "What good are we if we hold grudges for so long? It poisons us, father." He turned back to the Earth-Warder. "You must not have just come here to inform us of Ultraxion's death. Is there anything we can do for you, Lord Neltharion?"

In reply, the clouds swirled around Neltharion, obscuring his great form. The clouds lowered slowly down, funneling towards the two mortals. Varian leaned down and grabbed his sword from the ground, raising it up. As the clouds cleared, opening up like two hands, they revealed Neltharion, now no more larger than a horse standing before them. The Black Dragon lowered to his haunches and folded his wings around his body. The wind slowly began to die down and the thunder became more distant. Neltharion looked to Onyxia's head and then back to Varian.

"I have something to ask of you," he said. "Two things, actually."

Varian let loose a growl, but Anduin held up his hands. He shook his head and then returned his attention to Neltharion.

"What do you need?" he asked. "I don't know what all we can give you." Anduin looked around. "It is not easy returning to a crushed home."

"The first thing I ask of the King of Stormwind is to forgive my wife Calia Hastings," Neltharion said as he walked slowly over to Varian. Varian could hear the heavy footfalls of the dragon through the stone. "I would suspect he has some understanding of those who are under the control of powers greater than themselves. And because of this, he would be understanding that what she did was not of her own doing, she was controlled."

"She threatened me," said Varian. "Those words she said..."

"Were words that she may have felt in a part of her own heart, but they are not her true feelings towards you," said Neltharion. "If anything that I have noticed from my time with Calia is her fierce loyalty to the Alliance and at times that loyalty conflicts with me because I have to remain neutral when it comes to your battles with the Horde. She wants so much that your war be my war. She wants so much that because I am married to her, I should fight for the Alliance, especially due to all the tragedy I have caused it in the past." The Black Dragon extended his wings and gave them a flap, stirring up the soot around him. He snapped his wings to his back swiftly. "So, now I ask you that you would set aside the grudge for words that were spilled only in anger. The Old Gods feed into the darkest of negative emotions, Varian. And they control the person who has them. I know this very well."

Varian looked away and lowered his sword. He shook his head, wiping his mouth. Neltharion shifted and waited patiently, patting his tail on the stone with a metallic tap. The soft wind picked up some of his long black locks, blowing them across his broad chest. The Black Dragon looked around and saw the citizens of Stormwind peek out fearfully from their burnt homes. He could still sense the fear they had form him. As he breathed deeply, he exposed the glowing rips in his chest and they backed away even more, disappearing in the shadows.

"I cannot forgive easily what was said," said Varian. "No matter why it was said. It still was said. Not even your powers can take back those words."

"No, I can't," said Neltharion. "I am just asking you to let them go."

"Father, why should we dwell on them?" asked Anduin. "Calia is the daughter of King Terenas, if there is a chance we could ever get Lordaeron back, wouldn't it be wise to make sure we keep the last heir on our side?"

"She said I was jealous of Arthas," said Varian.

"Are you?" Neltharion asked. He crept a little closer to Varian and then paused when the king raised his sword up again. "Are you jealous of her brother?"

"He was always so...perfect," said Varian. "I almost leapt for joy when I found out that even he was capable of faults. But to the lengths he went...he wasn't even sorry for them."

"He wasn't," said Neltharion. "At least not then." He looked away, his eyes narrowed. "He is sorry now."

"What?" Varian asked, his sword lowering. "How do you know? How the hell do you know whether or not Arthas was sorry?"

Neltharion looked to the king and then gave a small smile: "I have been called the Dragon Shaman by the Earthen Ring. And what powers does a shaman have, not only a connection to the elementals that bind our world. We hold a spiritual connection as well. I am the first shaman, Varian. I have a connection to the spiritual world, something I only now have begun to realize. Arthas is sorry. Just like I am sorry." His claw traced the spaces along the cobblestone road. "He and I are very similar, we wanted the best for those we loved and we went to horrible lengths to achieve it. Forgive his sister, Varian."

"It isn't easy to forgive any of you," said Varian. "Very well. So I won't have to look upon your hideous face, Destroyer, I will forgive your wife. She can return to her post in Theramore–and far away from me!"

Neltharion's shoulders slumped and he heaved a sigh, wagging his head.

"I am sorry you feel that way."

"Enough!" Varian said. "What else do you want?"

Neltharion's head slowly roved over to his daughter's severed head dangling from its chains. His eyes glittered wetly when he saw her and his lips perched tightly. Anduin then looked to Onyxia and back to Neltharion. He walked around the Black Aspect and came to a stop in front of him, placing his hands together.

"I feel that this was all my fault it happened," he said. "Your daughter. Even after all she has done, she is your daughter." Anduin's head lowered. "A parent should always love a child no matter what they have done, Earth-Warder."

"I am finding that out the hard way," he said. Neltharion shook his head. "No, Prince Anduin, it wasn't your fault. She brought this on herself."

"Yes, she did didn't she?" Varian said as he crossed both, folding his arms up. He turned a cold blue eye at Neltharion. "What do you want with Onyxia's head? To reanimate her again like you did before?"

"No," said Neltharion. "I wouldn't! I want my daughter's head so I can finally burry her." His head lowered. "Calia is right, if I were a real 'man' I would just take it." His eyes flashed as he turned to Varian. "If your son's head was on a spike in Orgrimmar, wouldn't you do anything in your power to get it back?"

Varian blinked, looking upon Onyxia's head. His brows furrowed.

"Damn it, Varian!" Neltharion said in a loud bellow. The ground trembled again. "You had your fun! Everyone gets the point now, you took down my daughter for kidnapping your son! Enough's enough! Whether you let me or not, I will take Onyxia back with me! She belongs with her father! She belongs with her family! She belongs with her mother and brothers and sisters!" He thumped a forepaw on the ground. "From one father to another, let me have my daughter back!"

Varian sighed and then turned away. Softly, he nodded in defeat.

"Take it," he said in dismissal. "And get out of my city."

"I intend to leave," said Neltharion. "You don't have to worry about that."

He thumped his other paw and the chains broke as if they were commanded to. Onyxia's head fell to the ground with a thud, her ragged tongue snaking limply out of her jaws. The clouds descended down like the tendrils of an octopus, covering Onyxia's head. Then, it vanished as the clouds lifted. The clouds descended down upon Neltharion again, swirling around him, flashing in purple and blue.

"Earth-Warder!" said Anduin. "Don't think ill of us." He clinched his fists. "I'm sure we can figure out a peaceful coexistence."

"I do want that, someday," said Neltharion. "But until then, it is best I stay on a completely different continent. I don't think ill of you, Anduin." His form began to dissolve in the clouds. "And I don't want you to feel ill of me either."

"I won't," said Anduin. "I forgive you."

"It's a start."

Varian sighed as he looked back, seeing the Earth-Warder disappear in the clouds that brought him here. He turned to his son and gave a nod.

"Father," said Anduin. "When we have rebuild Stormwind, I wish to see Auntie Jaina some time. And see Neltharion too."

"Why would want to see him?" asked Varian.

"I want to talk to him," said Anduin. "Since you don't want to, someone from Stormwind has to. All you would is yell at him."

Varian's brow furrowed: "Perhaps. We will talk about that some time."

Anduin grinned a hopeful grin as they headed inward towards the palace.

0

Neltharion looked on over the budding, yellow and gray stone of the Obsidian Dragonshrine. The mountain smoked above, rumbling with fire. The pine trees were frosted with fresh snow. The hot spring bubbled, its bed turning bright colors of blue, orange, and red. All around him, new corpses were added to the shrine, dragons who's scales ranged from violet to plum purple, to deep blue. Twilight dragons littered the shrine, with one hulking, gigantic one in the center of them. Still, at the center of the hot spring was Sintharia, lying beside the headless body of Nefarian. However, on her other side was Onyxia, her head sown back to her body. He looked back to see Siderion standing reverently at the entrance. Beside him was Nadina, Thrall, and Aggra. She smiled softly. Neltharion looked on and saw Calia huddled next to the spring, letting the warmth of the spring comfort her from the chill. The smoking mountain above spewed forth its black clouds and sparked with flashes of light and deep hues of orange and red at the summit, echoing its activity. All around the shrine were the banners of the Black Dragonflight, a fiery mountain on a field of jet, the symbol of the raw, primal power the Earth-Warder wielded. Neltharion lowered his head, whispering a silent prayer to the spirits that guarded his shrine, hoping that the souls of his fallen children would hear him. As if to reply, the wind blew across his shoulders and he shivered slightly. When the ceremony was over, Neltharion led Siderion, Calia, Thrall, Aggra, and Nadina out. At the entrance was Alexstrasza who dipped her head. Ysera stood beside her, looking hopeful. Kalecgos once more had that bewildered look on his face. Alexstrasza stepped forward to her much larger brother. Neltharion planted his feet in the snow, his great weight sinking down on it.

"What will you do?" Alexstrasza asked. "Where will you go?"

"South," said Neltharion. "Back to Theramore."

"You won't stay here with me?" Alexstrasza asked.

"No," said Neltharion. "I need to be where I am needed. There is no need for me to hide anymore. Besides it is Calia's home. And she hates the cold." He gave a sneeze, wrapping his wings around his body. "So do I."

"After that attack I saw you use," said Kalecgos. "That seems hypocritical of you to dismiss the cold."

"I can control heat," said Neltharion. "It doesn't mean I have to like the cold."

"Besides," said Calia. "I have my job down in Theramore. Who knows when the Horde might come knocking down our door?"

"If ever," said Neltharion. "So far they have kept their distance."

"How many times do I need to tell you not to trust the Horde?" asked Calia. "Garrosh is planning something, I just know it!" She caught herself and looked to Nadia, Thrall, and Aggra. "Uh, present company excluded."

Nadina smiled and dipped her head.

"No harm done, Agent Hastings," said Thrall. "I know what Garrosh is capable of." He looked back to the Aspects. "We must be returning to the Earthen Ring ourselves. There is still much to heal after even this battle. The shaman's usage of bound elementals has upset the balance again."

"I should join you in that," said Neltharion.

"We could use the help," said Aggra. "Thank you, Earth-Warder."

"You have so much work to be done," said Alexstrasza. "We do wish you all well." She looked over to Neltharion. "Brother, don't be a stranger. You are always welcomed here."

"Thank you, sister," said Neltharion as he lowered his body to the snow. Calia climbed up upon his neck. Once he felt she was seated upon a plate, Neltharion lifted up again, the snow shifting under his weight. "There is one thing I wish to do, for my wife at least." He swung his head down to Thrall. "I will join you in a moment."

Siderion lowered himself down to allow Nadina, Thrall, and Aggra upon his back.

"I shall take them to where they need to go, my lord," he said. He turned to Nadina. "Besides, I promised I would take Nadina back to her home."

"Silvermoon is going to seem strange to me," said Nadina. "Even after all that I have done."

"I know the feeling," said Neltharion. "I wish you well, priest." He watched as Siderion took the sky and smiled at him. "Be careful, Sid."

He turned to Alexstrasza and gave her a hug, folding his enormous wings around her. Alexstrasza laughed, wrapping her forelegs around his great neck.

"Oh, I will miss you again, Neltharion" she said in a whisper. Her head rested upon his shoulder and she peered down upon Calia. "Take care of my brother, will you?"

"I will," said Calia.

"Good bye, big brother," said Ysera. As Neltharion let go of Alexstrasza, the Green Aspect came up and gave him a nuzzle with his snout. "Take care, sister."

Neltharion nuzzled her back and then stepped away. His wings spread wide and he flew off, heading for Icecrown. Neltharion banked off, circling the jagged, black gate of Icecrown. He landed a ways away, feeling the ice and snow shift under him again. Turning his flank, he allowed Calia to get a better look at the gate.

"I just wanted to see it one more time," she said.

Neltharion nodded silently. Calia placed a hand upon his plate.

"I saw someone," she said. "During the battle, someone standing beside Thrall. I thought for a moment I saw my brother there."

"Did you?" Neltharion asked. "Funny how that is..."

"Arthas," she said. "Why would he be there?"

"Maybe to make sure I kept my promise to him," Neltharion replied. "To keep you safe."

"Your promise? When did you make such a promise?"

Neltharion gave a deep chuckle: "Would you believe I am haunted by Arthas' ghost?"

"My brother's ghost is haunting you?" Calia asked, her brow rising. Then, she laughed. "That is the silliest thing I've heard you say! And I've seen what you're like when you're high on narcotics!"

"It's true," said Neltharion. "He is."

"Why would Arthas haunt you?" Calia asked, still unbelieving of Neltharion's rather tall tale.

"Because he can..." said Neltharion.

"Because he can..." said Calia. She shook her head. "Whatever. Get me the hell outta here! It's cold!" She shivered. "I might turn into a death knight if I stay here any longer."

"I wouldn't want that," said Neltharion. "One Menethil as a death knight is enough."

"Oh, shut up!"

Neltharion chuckled, turning around towards the large canyon that separated Icecrown from the Dragonblight. He spread his wings and dove off from the ledge, diving into the wide canyon, only to glide right out, a cloud of snow following him. He flapped his wings lazily, gaining altitude while Calia cleaned tightly to his back.

The first few days after leaving Northrend, Neltharion had dropped Calia off at Theramore just to join the Earthen Ring. He aided Thrall and the others in quelling the raging elementals. They gathered around at the circle of stones around the Great Maelstrom, focusing their will upon the torrent of water and wind. Neltharion felt the planet heave as if to let loose a great sigh, a signal that the elementals were calming down again. When the deed was finally done, Neltharion returned to Theramore. Already, Lady Jaina Proudmoore gave Calia and Neltharion a guest house on the island for them to stay in while they were there. Behind the house was a beach and Neltharion made good use of it, warming himself on the white sand, basking in the sun's rays and listening to the crashing of the waves.

Nearly a week had went by since the battle and Neltharion found himself settling down once more on the beach, sunning himself as he does. His massive bulk took up nearly the entire white rim of the island itself and he cast a shadow upon the wall of the stronghold. He purred as the warm tropical wind brushed up against his black scales. He heard the sounds of human children playing and felt a rubber ball bouncing against his great chin. Neltharion opened a green eye slightly as the two children froze before him. They trembled, their knees knocking against each other at the sight of him. The Earth-Warder made no movement to get up, or even to give them back their ball. He knew it was best to stay completely still. The dragon let loose a snort and his breath was enough to send the ball bouncing back towards them. The two children chased after the ball as swiftly as they could, but still more to get away from him. Neltharion lifted his head slightly, opening up the other eye and heaved a graveling sigh. They still were afraid of him. His size, his bulk, his metallic plates, he was a fright to mortals who were not used to his presence. He turned when he heard the sound of guards shouting at the front gate. Neltharion stretched, letting loose a deep yawn. He spread his wings and then snapped them back. Within an instant, he shrank down to his smaller size and made his way towards the center of town.

Guards swarmed the gate. Neltharion saw his wife Calia with her rifle out, pointing it at some intruder trying to make its way in. He padded his way over to her, filing himself as best as he could through the crowd. Jaina also came out of her tower, making her way as well towards the front gate.

"What is going on?" Jaina asked.

Calia swung around to see her husband come up to her, pressing his snout against her cheek.

"What's happening?" Neltharion asked.

"Stay back, honey," she said. "Dragonspawn..."

"Wait, what?" Neltharion asked. He swung his head over to see several Black Dragonspawn standing before the gate. Behind them was a mature black drake. Neltharion's eyes focused upon the dragonspawn a silent connection made between them and him. He read their thoughts, their feelings, their history. They were the residents of the Dragonmurk, left over from when Onyxia still resided here. Because they lived in Dustwallow, it was one of the many reasons why Neltharion had to be hidden prior to his and Calia's flight from Theramore. It was for his protection from them and any other black dragon who would seek him out to kill him for betraying the Old Gods. But here they were.

"I knew this would happen," said Jaina. "I still thought of locking you back under the cellar, Neltharion, to keep you out of sight of these monsters."

"Nel, honey, go," said Calia. "Go to the house."

"No," said Neltharion.

"Don't argue with me."

"Yes, argue!" Neltharion said. "These are my...dragons, Calia. My daughter birthed them, I birthed them. They're my children, let me handle them." He pushed his way passed Jaina. "I'm not weak anymore. I don't need to hide in a cellar."

"Neltharion," said Jaina.

"Neltharion!" said Calia.

Neltharion looked back at Jaina: "Tell the guards to stand down."

"They'll come in!" said Jaina. "They'll attack us."

"If they do, I will destroy them," said Neltharion, his eyes flashed momentarily with orange fire. "Tell the guards to stand down."

"Captain!" said Jaina. "Have your men stand down."

The captain looked back with confusion, still holding onto his pike tightly, his eyes dodging from Jaina back to the gate: "Ma'am?"

"Do it," said Jaina. "Let the Earth-Warder pass."

Neltharion turned back to the gate as the guards parted, his braided beard jingling against his neck. The wind blew his feathered ornaments against his chin. He came to the edge of the gate where the dragonspawn were and leaned back upon his haunches to lift his paws up. He counted ten dragonspawn so far, but Neltharion knew there were more in the marsh. His eye looked upon their jagged swords, spears, and clubs and he shook his head.

"Perhaps if you would lower your weapons, the mortals would not be so hostile to you," Neltharion said.

The dragonspawn nodded at his soft comment and knelt down, lowering their weapons to the ground. They backed up slightly as Neltharion looked upon them.

"We are here to serve you, father," said the drake behind him. The spawn nodded in agreement.

Neltharion looked upon them again, delving into each mind. His chest swelled when he could not find any corruption of the Old Gods in them. They were not dwelling in madness. They were clean.

"How?" Neltharion asked.

"We heard you," said a dragonspawn. "Louder than the Voices."

"We answer now," said another dragonspawn.

"We only wish to be with you, father," said the drake.

Neltharion stepped back: "Not kill me?"

"Why would we kill our father?" the drake asked, tilting his head.

"To take my powers, to free me from the pain, to...do what the Old Gods want," said Neltharion.

"We don't serve the Voices," said the first dragonspawn. "We serve you."

"Are there many of you?" Neltharion asked.

"Many, hiding in the marsh," said the drake. "Whelps too."

"There were always black dragons in the marsh," said Jaina as she and Calia walked up tot he gate. "We never could keep count and we rarely bothered them unless they attacked us. We didn't have the resources to go diving into the marsh and hunt down black dragons."

"A waste of men to go on a dragon hunt, Master Neltharion," said the captain. "But they always wanted to pick a fight with us."

"They're not picking a fight now," said Neltharion.

"We can't have black dragons go running around Theramore!" said Calia. "One's enough, honey."

Neltharion turned to his wife and then prostrated before her, holding his claws up to her in pleading: "Please, let me keep them! They're not controlled by the Old Gods anymore! Let me keep them, Cali! Please!"

"Light's Sake, get off your fat ass, Nel," said Calia.

"You know this?" Jaina asked.

Neltharion rose up to his fours and bobbed his head up and down. He gathered Calia up into his muscular forelegs, squeezing her, snuggling her. The black dragons looked on with confusion as to the action their Aspect was doing to this one human.

"Please, I want to keep them."

"Why are you asking me?" Calia asked.

"You're my Prime," said Neltharion.

"You're the leader of your own damned flight," said Calia. "You don't need me to say anything." She turned to Jaina. "As Jaina."

Jaina sighed, shaking her head. She ran a hand through her golden hair and tapped her staff against her heel.

"They're black dragons," she said.

"What do you think I am?" Neltharion asked. "A black lizard?"

"That's not what I meant," said Jaina. "I mean. They're not you, Neltharion."

"So, only I can be trusted," said Neltharion. "Not the rest of my flight. I can sense their minds. I don't sense the Old Gods." He looked back to the dragons. "My return to good is slowly curing my flight as well. These are young dragons and dragonspawn. They're change would come easier than the older ones. They don't have to stay here, Jaina, they can stay in the marsh. But, they're...mine...my family..."

Calia felt him let go of her and she placed a hand upon his shoulder.

"Our family," she said.

"Our family," said Neltharion. He lowered himself down to Calia's shoulder and looked up at her with wide, pleading eyes. Calia laughed.

"You're like a puppy dog," she said. Neltharion laid his head upon her shoulder, flexing his wings and wrapping her up in them. Calia scratched behind his ear. "Alright, we can keep them."

Neltharion chirped in glee and knocked Calia down with his great weight, nuzzling her with his snout. Calia laughed, feeling his beard tickling her as he rubbed his snout against her. Jaina smiled, shaking her head again.

"Deathwing is a giant puppy," said the captain. "What do we do with the dragons?"

Jaina looked back at the dragons and then gave Neltharion a nudge with her foot. The Great Black lifted back up and straightened himself out, clearing his throat and smoothing out his beard. Jaina held her hands out to the black dragons.

"As your Aspect has said, you may remain peacefully in the marsh," she told them. Neltharion came up beside her and nodded in agreement.

"Onyxia's lair, it is still accessible?" he asked.

"Yes, my lord," said the dragonspawn. "Ready for you to use for your new home. It is nice and deep, filled with lava and heat."

"Great, lava," said Calia. "Sounds like a homely abode."

"For me," said Neltharion. "Not you, Cali. I think perhaps I should make my home there." He leaned over to nuzzle his wife again. "When you're away on your trips, I mean."

"I shouldn't keep you from your flight," said Calia.

"You don't," he said. "You are my flight." He turned back to the dragons. "Guard my new lair, I will be making my home there. Perhaps some renovations need to be made to make it truly my new home. I never liked that break away floor she put in. The moment I step on it, I'll fall right through."

The dragonspawn nodded and they and the drake picked up their weapons and backed away from the gate. Silently, they disappeared through the gray mist of the marsh. Neltharion smiled and laid his chin upon his wife's shoulder again. She looked down, noticing how his eyes sparkled at her.

"I never seen you this happy," she said.

"I can't help it," he said. "I have my wife, I have my fight. I'm happy."

He thumped his tail upon the ground. Neltharion backed away just as Calia felt herself knocked towards his hefty forelegs. She looked back to see several rocks jutting out from the ground.

"You two are ridiculous," said Jaina as she watched Neltharion lift Calia up into his forelegs, standing upright upon his hind legs and balancing his weight upon his tail. She waved her hands at the guards, dismissing them. Then, she turned around to see Neltharion, awkwardly walking upon his hind legs, carrying Calia back to the guest house. Calia called back, looking beyond Neltharion's shoulder.

"I suppose I'll get to my post later, Jaina."

"I'm not going to argue with your captor," said Jaina. "Go on, have your fun."

Neltharion chuckled as he barged his way through the wide door, ducking down to squeeze himself through. The door slammed right behind him just as he slid his tail through.

0

Garrosh received the news from the Dragonmaw Clan. Ultraxion had been slain by none other than his own creator, Deathwing the Destroyer, or Neltharion as the foolish Thrall kept calling him. It was one last thing he had to worry about, at least for now, however more news came in about Neltharion once more returning to Theramore. Garrosh sat upon his chair, curling his thick fingers around the arms and grimaced. The last thing he needed was to deal with that dragon again, so close to Orgrimmar. The low light of the brazers glowed, casting wild shadows upon Grommash Hold. He leaned against the chair he fashioned out of Mannoroth's titanic bones and tusks, sneering at the thought of being so close to the Lord of the Black Dragonflight. He knew there were still black dragons in the Dragmonmarsh, and they no doubt were siding with Neltharion, with Theramore, with the Alliance.

"That fat, bloated, black dragon wants to be Alliance?" he rumbled to himself. "Very well. He can be Alliance, and I will add his head next to his son's."

An orc messenger dressed in simple leather walked in through the iron pillars and knelt down before Garrosh.

"What is it?" Garrosh asked, his voice coming out like sharp grate.

"There are some shamans at the gates," he said. "They wish to speak to you. They are...Twilight Hammers."

"Twilight Hammers?" Garrosh rose from his seat. "I shall kill them..."

"No, they want to talk terms," said the messenger. "About an alliance with the Horde. They said the Hammers were once Horde and they wish to do so again. They have brought gifts, weapons developed for the Twilight Hammers. They want to give them to you."

Garrosh took in a deep breath and ushered the messenger out, following him. As he stopped at the center of the Valley of Strength, the arching chasm winding its way through the city, he paused to see the guards showing in dark orc shamans dressed in dark purple and black robes and iron armor. Many of them were gray skinned, like those of the Black Rock orcs. Behind them they carried a chest. A shaman stopped before the Warchief and thumped his chest in salute.

"Hail Garrosh Hellscream," he said. "Warchief of the Horde."

"You are Twilight Hammer shamans?" Garrosh asked.

"We are," he replied. "Were actually. The Hammers have officially disbanded. Our citadel has been destroyed by the Betrayer Deathwing in his battle with Ultraxion. Ultraxion himself has been slain of course."

"So I have heard," said Garrosh. "And you wish to join me?"

"We have a shared enemy," said the shaman. "He who now calls himself the Earth-Warder, Deathwing...or Neltharion...or which ever you wish to name him. He and his flight are all traitors to the Hammers. But you, we have seen great power in you. The Alliance now has a Dragon Aspect on their side, but what have you?"

"You?" Garrosh asked.

"More."

The gray orc twitched his head, motioning for the other shamans to lower the chest. They unlocked the iron chest to reveal several scrolls. The shaman picked up a scroll and unrolled it, showing it to Garrosh.

"They have the Worldbreaker," he said. "But we have his weapons."

Garrosh looked upon the scroll, seeing a schematic for a rather large cannon that could be built up on the side of a mountain.

"What does this do?" he asked.

"This is what Deathwing called a coil gun," said the shaman. "It is a gun that operates by utilizing magnetism to fire shells at super sonic speeds. The shells are tungsten coated with elementium. And with force of their fire, they can pierce even a dragon's hide...even the Earth-Warder's hide." He folded up the scroll. "This cannon is powered by the elements themselves, it is a Titan weapon Deathwing himself had locked up in his mind. And it can be made rather easily. The Titans made some weapons that can be built using resources from the worlds they visited."

"And Deathwing could create this weapon?" Garrosh asked.

"You can create this weapon,Warchief," said the shaman. "It will require much mining for resources. Lands will have to be torn up..."

Garrosh snorted: "A trifle. They are my lands, I do with them as I wish."

"This weapon only needs the power of the elements to fuel it," said the shaman. "A particular power we shaman of the Twilight Hammers learned from Deathwing himself. He taught us ways of using the elements that other shamans have never even dreamt of."

"Perhaps the fat dragon isn't as stupid and useless as he let on," said Garrosh. "Alright, shaman. I will listen to your terms. This weapon would be an excellent addition to Orgrimmar's defenses, especially against Deathwing himself."

The shaman nodded and then signaled for the others to follow him. Garrosh led them into Grommash Hold, a dark grin growing upon his face.