The Watchers

Chapter 5: Yup, We Weren't Prepared

AN: Sorry for the late update! Between the sleepless nights of motherhood (and sitting here figuring out how this chapter was going to) … Ya, I'll probably re write this another 20 times.

Eolande paced the floors of the majestic Silvermoon Sunspyre for what felt like hours. It had been months since he had seen Appolo due to a very strange illness. It started out soft at first, acting like he was over tired and it soon turned into severe shaking to the point he couldn't hold Eolande's hand without himself being shook. Then he walked into one of Appolo's meditation sessions to find him passed out on the ground, thick black tar drizzling from his mouth. The local Magical Apothecary and Magistrates rushed in and carried him away to be locked behind a pair of oak doors without so much of a word to either him or his mother.

Eventually, one of the doors cracked open and a blood soaked Apothecary stepped out, rubbing his hands clean of what looked like the tar that Eolande saw drizzling out of Appolo's mouth. He walked past the young boy without so much as a word, his walk was brisk as he headed to the royal throne room. Eolande sighed and followed, hoping that he would find the answer to what was going with Appolo.

Kisella, in the meantime, was bogged down in the throne room trying to keep herself focused on the task at hand, which was to find a suitable way to invade the Sunwell chamber without many deaths or injuries. She was thankful that a combined force of Draenei and Blood Elf were willing to send adventurers into the fray to do most of the grunt work. But that wouldn't stop Kael'thas. She was one of the very few who knew how he thought, very very strategical, and even how he himself would fight. She just prayed his failing state of mind wouldn't affect anything. But a desperate Blood Elf who thought he had nothing left to live for was about as deadly as a cornered Hawkstrider.

Her advisers were very little help, they knew all too well the Night Elf was inexperienced with most of everything thrown on her plate. They firmly believed that she was going to be the end of them all and have said it to her face. But even under the scrutiny, there were a small hand full that still stood by her side. It was stress for everyone involved. Stress that a young mother should never have to go through, dead promise, marriage arrangement, or family involvement.

She glanced up with tired dark eyes to the Apothecary. His golden hair tied back in a tight braid, greenish blue eyes locked on hers. He gave her a small gesture of royal acknowledgment. Eolande stood by the open door, ready to listen to the man's words. Kisella stood up from her cushion on the floor, she refused seat in the throne out of respect for the spirit of her beloved Kael'thas. The man pulled out a small book and flipped it open. "My lady.." He purred, eying her for a second before slipping on a pair of half glasses. "Fatigue is what causes the death of many good men and women... May I suggest someone else... Bearing the work as well?"

She snorted. "Do not worry yourself over me Lightwater, how is my son?" Lightwater cocked an eyebrow, but would let the insulting snort pass. "Yes, our beloved mongrel prince..." He cooed, teasingly. "Ironic how our beloved Sun king leaves a half night elf mongrel beast only to produce one himself. Well..." He snapped the book closed. "We don't know."

"What do you MEAN you don't know!?" She snapped, bearing her teeth. "You morons are supposed to know everything-"

"Before you decide to go off on me, my lady, I suggest you look at what we know about your race. VERY little. Your people, even though nothing more then a labor class of tree-hugging whore hounds... REFUSED us to study and explore your dead out of some dumb dead ritual of your backwards religion. Then you of all people wiggle your little way into our beloved king's bed and bear him not one, but two little bastards and you expect us to know everything about them! For all we know it could be in this cursed cross breeding!" The two glared at each other. Then Lightwater realized what he had said and bowed. "My lady... I am sorry for what I had said. It has been a long night and I am very tired. Will you let me try again?"

"Please..." She whispered, sitting back down. "How is my son?" She gestured for the elf to join her on the mess of pillows, which he kindly refused. He cleared his throat and opened the book again. "The tar that spilled from his mouth is Demonic in nature. It's a gelatinous form of a by product of Fel crystals. What we come to suspect is someone is trying to kill him, or taint him. But thankfully to his night elf heritage, his body is rejecting what dangerous taint he absorbed. But we don't know the extent it may have on him. For all we know it may revert him into a Wretched."

He closed his book. "There are many. A great many who believe that the sun king is still sane and want him to come back. You must understand that I try to not get my personal views when treating patients. There are a few who think you should not be sitting in the throne room at all. I for one am thankful that you are here. Because you are trying despite the fact we treated your kind with such a lower class status. I will personally do all I can to save prince Appolo. But I require many more mana crystals and any insight you have on Night Elf physiology."

"Have the guards open access to the crystal vault. Take as much as your body needs." She closed her eyes and screamed a curse. Lightwater smiled a little and bowed, walking out. He had gotten what he had needed from the figurehead. Eolande walked into the throne room, closing the doors. He was really worried for Appolo and knew there wasn't a thing he could do about it.

"I should just leave them all to rot and die." She hissed. "These sons of bitches don't understand anything!" She looked up to Eolande, her face was pale by Night Elf standards and her breath reeked of sickness. Eolande didn't know how one person could push herself to the point of exhaustion she would get herself sick. It wasn't doing anyone good if she collapsed out of exhaustion. "Maybe you should consider retiring. I don't see why your still here. Heck, these aren't even your people anymore."

"I do it for Appolo." She glanced down to the paperwork. "This will be his job once he is old enough. I want to make sure everything will be fine and he understand what he is doing once he becomes king. So nobody can push him around like they did the Kaldorei that stayed here."

"Let Appolo make the mistakes." Eolande suggested. "If he is to be king. He must take the good with the bad. And if all else fails he has you here to come seek council and stuff with." Eolande smiled a little. "Besides, someone has to go save my mom. And out of everyone here on this planet, I trust you to save her."

~3~

Maiev didn't remember the crash, nor what caused it. She cracked her eyes open to a fuzzy gray landscape filled with demons and beasts that were transformed into demonic beasts. Shadowmoon Valley. She struggled to push herself up with a grunt and winced in pain. She blinked, trying to remove the dust from her eyes, and glanced down to her leg. It was broken. "Perfect." She growled and did her best to ignore the pain as she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She removed her gauntlets and let her fingers pry her broken leg armor open so she could get a better look at the wound. It was bone that punctured through the lower part of her leg. She could only imagine what else lay beneath the surface. But she really had no time to sit and whine about it.

She ripped off a bit of her cloak and rolled it up and stuck it in her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut as she began to pull at her leg until the sickening crack of bone snapped together and dark purple blood drizzled from the wound. She felt dizzy, due to the shock of the bone setting. She spat out the cloth and removed her cloak and began to rip some into strips while she worked on shoving some smaller bits into the hole. She turned her attention to the broken leg plate and worked on making that into a brace for her leg, when all was said and done, she pressed on.

Where she was going, she had no idea. She had thought she was going insane when she saw the jagged peaks of the mountains in the distance and a part of her became excited to see it! Even now, she felt a little better then she had in a long time just by being in this Elune forsaken landscape that Illidan and his army had called theirs. This place represented everything she loathed and hated about magic and demons all rolled into one, but it was more then just that, her crush, her love, dare she say, husband...?

She stopped in mid limp and rested against a boulder, removing her helm, dented from the impact, and let her long white hair out of it's insane high rise ponytail. She looked down to her helm and discarded it without a single thought. She had come to terms with the fact that part of her life was long over. Illidan was gone and his Warden could finally fade into history with her offspring. She had considered returning to Darnassus and living the life of a Weapon smith. But even that did not appeal to her. Maiev Shadowsong: Master Smith, it didn't sound right. Then she had opted to be with Kisella until things were finally settled with the Blood Elves.

She laughed, just out of the need to find something to laugh at, realized that all of her hard work, all the years of 'perfect revenge' against Illidan for ruining her life and attempted murder of her beloved Jarod, was all for nothing. She played right into his arms without so much as a fuss! Had those thousands of years of him behind bars actually meant something to her? Had his harsh insults and dark moods been a blind sided manipulation of her psyche? HAD he had this planned all a long? Was really, her perfect revenge, been nothing but Illidan biding his time till he caught her vulnerable? Did he... love her...?

No, he loved Tyrnade. Oh did she spat at that! She had seen the way he tried ti impress her, flaunt his poor ass attempts at controlling magic. The way he always made himself to be better then his brother when it came to that woman! She did not realize she was snarling until she hissed in anger, snapping herself back to the crude landscape before her. Maybe if he had been with Tyrnade, then he wouldn't of turned to an artifact to save the world. Maybe he'd still be alive, still a complete and udder jackass, but alive and breathing. Maybe she would of ended up with some sorry git who didn't understand her and miserable.

She shook that off. Illidan, even though crazy and still a pride-stuffed jackass, was hers. He was her jackass. And loved him for being that. Even though his insults on her female superiority issues hurt, he was hers in the end. She had a good run with him. It was brief, full of love and affections. He wanted to be with her and even gave her a son. She wondered what Illidan would have been like if he had been alive the day she found out she was with child. Probably something to hang over his brother's head. Another trophy to add to his cabinet. He would make her become barefoot and robed, making love to her whenever he could because he craved her... Tears rolled down her eyes, he was dead and she killed him.

His death really hadn't hit her fully until now. She couldn't mourn his death in front of all those Alliance people. She remembered hearing the night elves celebrated his death as if it were the best day of their lives, except Tyrnade, who had gone to Moonglade to tell the sleeping malfurion the fate of his brother. She wasn't surprised, but moved, she mourned Illidan. Maiev had broken her Shakra that night, used it to mark the crude grave she had dug with her bare hands. He at least deserved to be returned to the earth. Malfurion would of liked to see his brother obtain peace. She didn't cry there either, all she could do was stare at his grave, no thoughts, no smart remarks, just stare at it and really wonder if it was all over.

"Illidan..." She whispered before curling up where she was and silently wept. But Maiev wasn't alone out here, not too far away from her was a couple Felhounds, one had already altered it's master to the intruder upon their grounds. He had spent time observing the night elf and figured she was no threat. But darkness was rolling around the horizon and nobody should be left alone out here at night, specifiably with Urvos running around.

He lept down from his perch, two Felhounds in tow. Long light blue hair graced his face and framed around his beautiful dark purple ears. His face was chiseled almost perfect. He wore no shirt, his chest exposed to the elements. He was a very muscular elf. His glorious six pack led to a pair of slightly baggy pants, probably black mageweave. Sandals were on his feet. As he came closer, he waved his hounds back so he could approach her without her getting too startled. Carefully, he knelt down by the small feature. "It's getting dark, you shouldn't be out here by yourself." Maiev looked up, her face stained with tears. The male elf frowned a little and offered his hand. "Come, you can tell me all about it when we get back to my place..."