Burden of the Heart

Usually I write my comments before the chapter, but this time I'll write the big one after the chapter...because I might be spoiling things.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, added the story as a favorite, or added it to the story alert. It is very much appreciated. An extended thank you to Mdnight, xCubicZirconia, Storyteller's Dream

Fallen Angel Kakashi, and Skye1236. I've taken more time in proof-reading this chapter, but I doubt I caught all the mistakes. Hopefully the glaring ones have been removed. About a half page of lines were removed and an entire section was re-written and edited.

This chapter is truly why the story gets an M rating. You've been warned.

As always,

Le pomme

Chapter 8: Falling

The house wasn't the same. It seemed as if something cold and vicious had taken up residence in it upon their arrival. The distance between them had grown in leaps and bound even if they only stood inches apart. Two days since returning from Thunderbluffs and you might have mistaken them for complete strangers. When Taynia looked at him there was pain in her eyes and he looked away, unable to face her and unable to act.

Darion didn't even have to turn and look at her to know that sad look was there as well as regret. She had revealed her heart to him and yet was trying to hide it as well. The only hope now was to figure out what to do and figure out why she was so confusing with her emotions towards him now. The Highlord felt like he was standing on the edge of an abyss and debating on whether to jump in after her and hope it wasn't as deep as it looked or scuttle back into familiar territory. One way would hurt her, the other one he didn't know what would happen.

The Highlord sat silently leaned forward in a chair, staring into the fire broodingly. He was torn. Torn and he wasn't about to be pulled back together by any sort of miracle. It was all in his hands now. A dark scowl, nearly a leer, spread across his face as he thought more about it. The entire thing was making him angry at himself, at Taynia, at Tirion Fordring, at Thassarian, at Koltira, and pretty much anyone that he so much thought about at the moment. He was terribly angry but it was a silently growing spark in his mind. When push came to shove, eventually he was going to snap...

"You want dinner tonight, Highlord?"

Highlord this, Highlord that. Taynia had not used his name since they had left Thunderbluffs to return to Stormwind. It was if she was afraid she had offended him somehow when in fact he was at fault. It was his fault for not doing anything and not questioning her about what was going on. She was hiding something from him...

"No. I'm not hungry," he said hunching closer to the fire, scowling.

"Alright..." Taynia silently made her way past him to the kitchen, "I was just going to make a light salad for myself. Just asking,"

"..." he didn't respond only silently glaring into the fire as if he was carved from stone.

She went into the kitchen. Outside the last rays of sunlight were dying streaking the sky the color of dying men on white snow. It was more a sky that belonged over Northrend, not over Stormwind. Darion clenched his teeth.

He was sick of this. He was a Mograine, not some shy confused teenager trying to figure out life. There was something he could do. Deep down inside, the death knight loved her and seeing her in this much agony due to his inaction... Darion got to his feet, his visage set in a dark scowl moving towards Taynia. Anger, irritation, and a general weariness with the rest of the world was driving him to move. The need to settle the storm in his head, the earthquake in his heart, and the fire in his veins was becoming maddening. She was driving him completely insane.

Taynia had her back to the door tossing the ingredients of her salad together listlessly, staring at it solemnly. You would have thought that she was standing over the slain carcass of a family member then a salad for how morose she looked.

"Taynia, what are you doing to me?" He growled low, eyes narrowed.

"What?" She turned to look at him, eyes wide in surprise at his words.

Darion stalked closer cornering her against the counter leaning in more, "What are you doing to me?" he repeated, "I can't sleep, I can't think. I'm so damn confused, lost, aggravated, all because of you!"

"I..I didn't mean to! Darion-"

Some sort of insanity must have taken control of his body. He pulled her roughly closer kissing her full on the mouth letting go of all his inhibitions. All that pent up feeling came crashing out at last in that one kiss. Darion stopped thinking, stopped fighting and just closed his mind off to all the protests that was pouring out of it. For this moment he wanted to stop thinking. The lust fully took control.

Taynia stood in shock for a few breathless moments before she melted against him, responding to the kiss. The Highlord felt the fire in his vein flame to red-hot magma pooling into his core. He held onto her like she was life itself. Eventually they pulled apart. Taynia was panting slightly looking up at him and she looked like she was going to cry, "Darion..."

Darion raised a hand gentle brushing her tears away before leaning in for another kiss. There was more passion behind this one and her hands her gripping the cloth of his shirt holding onto him tightly. He didn't know what the hell was going on. It felt like a dam was breaking and a flood was crashing over them again. First they were in the kitchen and then the next moment in this hazy flood they were in the bedroom.

Her lips were finding new places to trail along as well. From his own lips to his chin then his neck leaving marks upon the pale skin. Darion was more busy with trying to get past the complexities of her upper undergarments to unveil the luscious mountains that had taunted his dreams of late. Soon he was leaving his own marks on her skin enjoying the sweet cries he pulled from her throat.

Then the rest of that haze grew into a smoke and he felt like he was drowning in it Yet at the same time it was perhaps the most euphoric, addictive, amazing, feeling in his entire life and he wondered briefly why he put it off for so damn long. He wanted her, her light, her body, her soul, everything about her and the way she clung to him and cried out his name was her claims of everything he was. The haze thickened and exploded around them and again he swore he saw the light blazing through their bodies and dancing behind closed eyes.

Eventually the haze simmered out and Darion laid on his back staring off feeling like he had just ran a marathon across Northrend. He felt better than the day the Lich King had fallen even. The room seemed so quiet and peaceful. All that tension, anger, confusion was simply gone. Idly he stroked Taynia's hair as she lay against his bare chest eyes closed.

He didn't know what to say but then, he felt like words would spoil the moment they just shared. Taynia shifted to look up at him, smiling although there was something off about the smile. There was clear regret in her eyes and face. The tension in the room came back. Darion arched an eyebrow at her sitting up slightly, "...what is it?"

"Nothing," she said lightly moving up to lie against him, putting her head against his chest again, "It is nothing, Darion,"

He reached a hand to stroke her hair, knowing something was over them. Or someone..., "What is bothering you?,"

She closed her eyes again, her smile small, content, but he swore there was something wrong, a tint of sadness. She remained silent. He ran his hand down her bare back and pulled her closer kissing her forehead lightly, "What is wrong...?"

"Nothing is wrong," she said softly, trailing her fingertips down his chest. She let out a yawn as she curled against him, "...just was thinking, regretting some things..."

Something was nagging at him and he felt a sudden fear about whatever that something entitled. It felt like the time he had watched his father leave for the last time feeling something wrong. The same nagging he felt when he had left Renault with Lord Dathrohan. He wrapped his arms about her in a need for her comfort, nuzzling her hair lightly, closing his eyes, "Stay with me..." he whispered hoarsely. It sounded almost like a plead. He wondered if she regretted what they just did. Worry was twisting his stomach into a knot.

She smiled and turned her head to kiss him lightly on the cheek but she didn't answer. Not a single word escaped her lips to calm his sudden paranoia. Taynia only nuzzled against his chest drifting off to sleep. Darion continue to stroke her hair unable to shake that sense of something was left undone. Something seemed left unsaid...

His mind drifted into a troubled deep sleep holding onto her tightly.

…...

The morning sun trailed over his face and Darion let out a growl raising a hand to cover his eyes to block out the accursed rays. He shifted a bit as his mind came to. Carefully he sat up as not to disturb Taynia reaching a hand down to stroke her hair and look upon her again...and his stomach plummeted. She wasn't there.

For a moment he sat there in confusion as to why she wasn't asleep in his arms like they had fallen asleep. It was late in the day so maybe she was making breakfast. He calmed his mind with that thought quickly getting out of the bed and recovering his clothes. It was slightly embarrassing to see how far some of his clothing had been tossed from the bed. The Highlord made his way downstairs growing nervous when he didn't smell the usual scent of breakfast.

"Taynia?" he called loudly. Nothing but silence greeted him. Panic welled up in him and he began to look about. Her clothes were gone so she had gotten dressed. Her mare was gone meaning she might have gone to the cathedral...without telling him. That is what was so off about this whole wake-up was there was no word of where she went, where she was, why she was gone...

His heart felt like it was being slowly clenched and ripped out of his chest. Darion sat back heavily into a chair, not even daring to breath, staring at the door. The time past. The grandfather clock upstairs solemnly chimed on the hour. Twelve o'clock. One o'clock. Two o'clock. He just sat there numb unable to grasp what was going on. Was she kidnapped...and had slept through it all? Was he drugged? But when could that have happened and why the hell would she do that? He doubted that she had done it just to mess with him or steal his virginity. All of those ideas were just ridiculous plots made up by his confused mind.

Logically the only thing that happened was she got up and left...buy why?

Darion sat in his stupor until evening mass bells began to ring out over the land. Then he rose to his feet and went back up to the bedroom. It was so neat other then the ruffled bed. Perhaps it was invasion of her privacy but he went through her drawers noting how empty they looked. Her travel pack was gone. She left. She was gone without even saying or saying goodbye.

He paused at her nightstand and looked at the picture there of her with another man, that man, Roland. That man she spoke of with a great deal of fondness. Everything she liked he seemed to like and the two seemed to have something more than friendship. He picked up the small picture frame to look at it closely. He held Taynia close, his head leaning against hers. They were close...who was he truly to her?

For the first time in his life, he felt so weak. His legs felt like they were nothing but rot giving out beneath him and he sat back hard on the bed and buried his face in his hands. There was nothing but questions in his head and an unbearable pain in his chest. What had he done wrong to make her leave? What was the real truth about what they did last night? Had it been love, lust, or nothing more than a decade worth of pent up tensions? There was no doubt in his mind that he was at fault, that it was some how his fault. He was a dead man trying to be a living one. She was pure and he was a tainted, abominable existence. The living, restless dead.

He gritted his teeth and suddenly hated the room. He hated the house. He hated the city and the happy peaceful sounds that drifted in from outside. He hated the light...Again he got to his feet forcing them to remember how to walk. Carefully Darion put on his armor and packed up his things and wandered down to the stable. The Deathcharger turned its head to look at its master snorting a bit. It gave an annoyed stamp as its master paid it little attention. There was not the usual pet or grumbled curse. Just a blank silence. The Highlord merely grabbed the reigns of the beast and lifted a hand opening a deathgate to Acherus. He had to get away from that accursed light. Why was she gone...?

Darion hunched over and stepped through the gate pulling his mount along after him and then simply let go of the reigns walking forward into the cold dark of the Ebon Hold. The confused deathcharger whinnied loudly before two ghouls scuttled forward and began to take it to the stables. A few death knights turned to behold Highlord Darion Mograine walking more like a shell shocked zombie then the usual bad-tempered man he tended to be. He looked like he had both feet in the grave again.

"Highlord?" the airy voice of Amu'zathad asked cautiously, "the renovations aren't finished. You weren't due for another month or so..."

"Don't talk to me..." Darion said numbly, "Don't talk to me..."

The lich drew back in alarm and stared at him. Yet the lich didn't know what to do, didn't know how to do anything to help him. The Highlord continued walking forward until he was to his room. He was quick to lock himself in the familiar darkness. It was suffocating yet the feeling was familiar yet it had no comfort to his aching heart. He wanted to sink into the solitude and die. He couldn't stay here either. There was a memory of Taynia imprinted in this place. Her wide eyes staring at him in alarm when they first met and they exchanged names. He had to get out. The Highlord dragged himself out of his room not knowing that days had passed without a word from him. He hadn't slept, ate, or even breathed. He was unkept and a deathly pallor had crept into his form again. He looked a fate worse than death but no one said a word. The denizens of Acherus watched solemnly the passing of the Highlord as he moved to the teleportaion pad that would take him below the Ebon Hold. It was like a funeral procession for a man they were watching bottle up his personal demons again.

Soon he stepped onto the pad that transported him down to the ground below the Ebon Hold. She was gone. Everyone in his life was gone now. The mother he never knew, the father and brother he had loved so dearly, the woman he loved more then life itself...all gone and it was all his fault. Listlessly he roamed forward unaware of where he was going. He wanted to just lay down in a grave and die. Undeath was a terrible curse and the restlessness growing in his limbs made them feel more like lead. Now Darion knew what the ghouls felt like.

He felt emotion flood back into him and he reached to grip the handle of his runeblade unsheathing it. Anger came back like a familiar friend to lash out at the world that had cursed him to endure this everlasting Hell. It drowned out all of Taynia's soft words that had always been to the contrary of his current line of thought.

A snarl twisted his features as he stepped out into the Eastern Plaguelands. The first ghoul that turned to look at him, slobbering hungrily only encountered the rage boiling in his being. It was sliced cleanly in two and his runeblade fed hungrily upon its soul. The next one met a similar fate. Darion screamed his rage as he just keep cutting his path of death through the ranks of those undead still left in the Plaguelands within the reach of his blade. When he ran out of undead he just killed the wildlife. A wild sort of mood had taken him. It was a form of running away. Darion screamed louder and finally just stopped panting. It was all pointless. No matter how many things he destroyed she wasn't going to come back to counsel him out of his madness..she was gone.

The runeblade fell out of his grip and he let himself fall to the muddy ground of the Plaguelands. He knelt there in the sucking much panting and letting ragged pained gasps of air escape his lungs. Then he let out a scream. There was no other way to express this sudden pain she had left with him that was all his own doing somehow. Darion wasn't even thinking as he felt the pieces of his mind splinter. She was gone...everyone was gone and it was his fault.

For the first time since his unlife, Darion Mograine cried. It came at first in ragged gasps and growls of rage, then hot tears finally forced their way out and he gasped more, sobbing harshly as he let himself fall into the mud letting despair take him at last.

"Everyone has a purpose, my son. The light has a destiny for us to achieve even if it is hard to see at first" That had been what his father had always told him.

If that was true then Darion could only see his birth being a mistake. He took his mother's life the day he was born, his father died thinking he was saving him, Renault was killed by him bringing that corrupt sword to him, and now Taynia had no doubt left him for some reason.

"Why? Why am I even still alive?" He groaned lying there feeling like his heart was ready to be drawn and quartered. He considered removing that damnable organ that connected him to his humanity still.

Arthas has removed his heart and thrown it far from him. It was to get rid of his weakness and last shred of humanity. The true weakness was he removed it now that Darion thought about it. The heart, when in love and losing everything it cared about, became an unbelievable and painful burden. Even now the Highlord of the Ebon Blade wanted to carve out the vicious organ and bury it deep in the earth where no one would be able to find it. He began to laugh. A loud drawn out soul wrenching sound. He would never be free of his damn heart even if he took it out because it wasn't his anymore. Taynia owned it, lived in it, and parting with his heart would mean parting with her.

"What did I do? What did I do?" He murmured as he lay there, his body heaving as his feelings worked their way out and madness set in. Despair and hopelessness was something that dwelt at the edge of every death knights mind. It was easier to ignore and cling to hope. When there was no hope left however, it was a hard fall.

"I don't care anymore. Screw them all!" he laughed as he lay there ignoring the mud sucking at him or the brewing of thunder in the dark sky, "Let them bury me finally. I'm restless no more and ready for the grave at last,"

The last fragment of rational thought in him was wondering who he was talking to. The rest of his mind didn't even care. He was dead to the world. There was a sensation of drowning again. It felt like the day he had driven the Ashbringer into his chest and fallen under the sway of the Lich King. It was the loss of free will to the cold dark void deep within. He didn't even care as he closed his eyes, too tired, to lost to fight that once frightening void.

Darion let his mind fall into oblivion without a sound of protest.

…...

Waking up to having a crow pecking at your skull was perhaps not the most glamorous way to awake, but by the light, it did the trick. Darion groaned and waved his hand, causing the large scavenger to take off with an alarmed squawk. The death knigh blearly sat up rubbing his head as he collected his thoughts again.

He was in the middle of the mudpit of the plaguelands. Taynia was gone without a word. There was a man, Roland, whose connection to Taynia might be closer than his own was. He was confused, hurt, angry, but now...now he was sick of his own self pity.

Darion sighed getting to his feet and picking up his runeblade, running a gauntleted hand along the blade. He was a death knight. He wasn't alive...but that didn't necessarily mean he didn't live in his own way...that is something he could thank Taynia for after all.

"...by the light I need to talk to someone about all this..." he grumbled.

For the first time in his life he knew he needed perhaps a more knowledgeable ear, someone who understand emotions and still lived. Tirion Fordring was a friend and perhaps the only person the Highlord would admit anything to. They were allies, friends, and between the two of them, he could finally sort things out and get his answers.

The Highlord turned to look out over the land. The plague was fading and already new life was coming back after the years of being under the corruptive touch of the scourge. A new beginning after the brooding years.

"Heh, maybe nature can teach you something and those damn Cenarion Circle fools don't just enjoy blowing their own horns," Darion mummbled as he sheathed his sword and headed back to the road. He could call his deathcharger and make the ride to Tirion quick from wherever he was, but he did not. He felt he could use the time to sort things out and not just simply give into his grief. The time for sulking and self-pitying, something he felt he had been doing for far to long, had to be put behind him. It wouldn't be an easy change but he had time.

"All the time of eternity..." he said lightly, "All the time in the world..."

For the first time in his life, that fact didn't seem to hollow and grim. He allowed himself a sad smile as the sun broke through the clouds over the plaguelands.

Tirion Fordring looked up as the door opened wide, banging off the wall slightly as the muddy, slightly smelling, Highlord of the Ebon Blade came in. The old paladin arched an eyebrow as Darion stalked in and took a seat in front of Tirion's desk.

For his part, the Highlord looked up giving Tirion a weary look and raised a hand in greeting, "I figured I could drop in for a bit to talk to you. I know it is unannounced...but I need someone I know won't give me ridiculous advice right now..."

"I...see," Tirion cleared his throat taking note of Darion's disheveled appearance as if he had one foot in the grave again, "Well...what is on your mind? Did something happen at the Ebon Hold? Does it have to do with something about the recent Cataclysm?"

"No, nothing as important as that...more my well, personal life," Darion sighed, "I was traveling with a priestess of late-"

"Oh! Thassarian mentioned you might be with a priestess friend somewhere. I'm surprised you have been pursuing and courting a woman actually. It just doesn't seem like yo-"

Darion gave a cough and a slight familiar glare to Tirion, "Don't ever believe any bullshit Thassarian says when it comes to my personal life. The truth? She vanished without a trace after we uh...got caught up in the moment a bit...honestly I don't know what to think anymore, Tirion. I don't know what to do. It is why I came to you now,"

The older paladin remained silent for a while and closed his eyes, "I see...what happened to her? Did you say something...?"

"No, she was just gone in the morning," Darion mumbled, feeling the pain of the act creeping up again, "Just gone like that. Something was bothering her and she didn't want to tell me..."

"Then it isn't your fault entirely Darion. Don't be harsh to yourself," Tirion said gently, "What was this priestess's name? I might know her and where she might have gone,"

"Taynia Feildstron," the death knight said glancing at Tirion.

The paladin frowned slightly, his brow furrowed in thought, "Hmmm...no, the name is not familiar, sorry. Although that last name, something about it. I know a Hanabell Feildstron. A good woman. Her death was most regrettable,"

"Well I don't know her mother's name. Never came up in conversation..." Darion grumbled, slightly irrated. He knew Tirion was trying to help but when he wanted to find her more than anything and find out the truth...

"Well, the most I can tell you is to start in Stormwind. Find out where she might've gone from neighbors or at the church itself. Maybe even the guards might have seen her. Use that as a jumping off point in your hunt, "Tirion suggested clapping a hand on Darion's shoulder.

The death knight gave a groan, "Great. I have to talk to people who are going to either try to exorcist me from the doorstep or treat me like a criminal. Oh this is going to be fun already!"

"With an attitude like that Darion, it will be," Tirion said with a slight chuckle, "How long ago did she leave if I might ask?"

"Five days...?" Darion said with a sigh, raising a hand to rub his temples."It looks like I've got a lot of ground to cover. First though, I need to speak with Thassarian, Koltira, and Thalanor. I need to make sure that the Ebon Hold is left in good hands before I leave. Also get me some damn parchment and a quill. I've got a few messages to write, connections to contact..."

"Right to business eh, Darion?" Tirion said with a chuckle getting to his feet again.

The Highlord frowned, "We Mograines aren't ones to take things lying down if there is something we can do. I need to talk to her and if I have to go to the ends of the earth to find her, then so be it. In the end I need to find her and make up for my mistake. This time I will make sure I don't screw up..."

He made a mistake somewhere. It seemed that Darion was probably just as accident prone as Taynia when it came to personal relations. But if she thought she was going to run from this problem between them, then he was going to chase her down and make her listen. Perhaps by then he would finally have the right words to say to her.

This time he wasn't going to let a person he love slip away from him. This time, Darion was going to never let go.

…...

Now that this chapter is done, I will all inform you I'm already in hiding writing the last chapter in a secret cave with my vanity pets to protect me. You will never find me for this place is carefully constructed and hidden in a place no one would be coming by for many moons.

On a more serious note, this is actually where this story was going, to this sort of ending/beginning. For although there is misery and sadness rock bottom has not been hit yet. There is one more chapter which is a chapter that is setting things up for the next cycle. When writing this story, Burden of the Heart use to include this current storyline and the part to follow. However, the part to follow is a different breed in how it is told, narrated and what is encompasses. Thus it was split. The second part has a bigger plot that grows from this story, more minor characters becoming important. Most importantly more Koltira and Thassarian. Also more Varian and Garrosh.

Burden of the Heart was more a set up to its sequel. The sequel gives the readers more of what they want I believe. Then there is always the prequel side story that is growing out of a fact revealed in the second part and other possibilities to write about.

But enough blabbering. I'm off to finish chapter nine now and complete this story. Have to end it on a more positive note, yes?