It was a long and painful night for Braelyn. Separated from her bodyguards and lost in the darkness of the storm, all she could do was stumble around and pray that she didn't run into an enemy. She couldn't even risk whistling for Bitey, not when she didn't know what was lurking in the shadows.

Eventually, she managed to find a small cave. It must have been used as a camp site or hideout by the Saurok or the Sunreavers as it contained a welcome supply of firewood, a few ration packs, canteens of fresh water, and a couple of bedrolls in reasonable condition.

Braelyn got a fire going, hoping that she wouldn't be smoked out or that the light attract attention. After debating the issue in her head, she stripped off the leather armor Fox had procured for her and set it out to dry. No use being armored if you were too ill too fight in it.

She was too ill to eat, so she put some water on to boil, and fished some of her emergency teabags out of the small bag she'd attached to her belt. A cup of tea was exactly what she needed.

While she waited for the water to boil, Braelyn set a couple of explosive traps by the cave's entrance. She'd modified it so that instead of just exploding and causing a lot of damage, the traps created a burst of energy that threw people backwards. If she managed to get any sleep, the noise would wake her, and the throwback would give her time to at least arm herself.

Braelyn snuggled down in one of the bedrolls to drink her tea, sparing the time to pray for Fox and Learen's survival. They were born survivors, especially Learen, but it was so wretched outside. She hoped they had at least found shelter, and that Bitey had remained with them.

After the fire died down a little, Braelyn pulled her weapons close, and attempted to sleep. The wind was howling outside, almost as loud as the thunder and lightning. The rain, however, eased off, something that comforted her. It would hopefully make the night easier to get through for her missing guards, and enable her to continue her hunt in the morning.

Braelyn didn't think she'd sleep, but it was not long before exhaustion pulled her under. Her dreams that night were all about Varian, and when she woke in the morning, she swore she could feel his arms around her.

Vol'jin sat atop his raptor as the last of the storm clouds dissipated over the Isle of Thunder. He hated this place. It still stunk of the Zandalari, even though they'd been cleared off the island over a year ago. But, as Warchief of the Horde, he felt that the Sunreavers deserved a visit to congratulate them for their efforts in claiming the island for the Horde.

He doubted the Alliance would be able to recover their losses.

The raptor threw its head back and pranced sideways, tired of being still for so long. "Easy, boy," Vol'jin said, patting the animal on the neck. "We be going soon enough."

His mount may have been eager to get moving, but the Warchief wasn't. He had much to think about, and it was rare that he got so much time alone to do it in. Thrall had sent word to him about the human king's death, and the visit by his brave young widow. This event changed things; for better or worse, Vol'jin had yet to decide.

The Horde respected Varian Wrynn as a fighter and leader of men, but to many among its ranks, he represented all that they hated about the Alliance. This made it hard to establish a workable peace.

Anduin Wrynn, on the other hand... Baine Bloodhoof wasn't the only Horde leader to think kindly of the young human.

When his mount tossed its head impatiently, Vol'jin decided it was time to head back to Dawnseeker Promontory. He turned the raptor around and headed down a small path that led into a swampy area marred by rubble and fallen trees. He stopped when a flash of colour caught his eye.

His eyes widened in surprise as he noticed a lone human woman digging around the base of one of the fallen trees. Vol'jin assumed she was digging for herbs, but when he moved closer, he could see that she was stuffing grass into a small backpack.

Even by human standards the woman was small; average height, and slender as a blood elf. She was wearing leather armor and an Alliance tabard, with two daggers strapped to her hips. Vol'jin assumed she was a rogue... until he saw the bow propped up against the tree, a magnificent weapon of dark wood, gold trimming, and glowing blue enchantments.

He glanced around him, but could see no animals in the vicinity, and no other Alliance members.

"Little hunter, what ya be doin' out here on ya own?" Vol'jin murmured as he observed the young woman getting to her feet and brushing the dirt off her knees. She looked around her, as if she were searching for something, or someone. He tensed, expecting the worst, but relaxed as he saw the woman's shoulders slump in disappointment.

So, she'd not been alone.

The woman slung her bow on her back, and Vol'jin knew it was time to act. He would not allow her to return to Violet Rise with whatever she'd been gathering, or meet up with any reinforcements. This was Horde territory now, and he would defend it.

He urged his mount forward, as quietly as possible, smirking when the tensing of the woman's shoulders gave away her knowledge of his presence. The smirk fell when the human turned around and he saw the look on her face. It wasn't anger, or hatred. It wasn't even fear.

It was quiet desperation.

Braelyn was very pleased with herself. After the skies cleared, she'd managed to find a whole patch of Bride's Mantle a few minute's walk away from the cave. By the time noon rolled around, her backpack was full, and she could head back to Violet Rise and arrange help for Learen and Fox before returning to the Shrine.

A few hours from now and Varian would be awake, with Braelyn wrapped up in his arms.

Braelyn stood up, brushed herself off, and slung her bow over her head. She looked around the swamp with narrowed eyes, hoping that Bitey, at least, had found his way to her. She sighed in disappointment when she realised no one was there.

She was about to turn around when she heard the sound of something moving behind her. It was soft, careful and deliberate, like an animal stalking its prey, but the prickling sensation crawling down her neck reminded her of being stared at by an unseen enemy.

No, she thought, not now! Not when I'm so close to saving Varian!

Braelyn turned around, her hands raised chest-high in a placating gesture. Her breath stopped for a second when she saw who was watching her.

Warchief Vol'jin.

Of all the Horde to run into, it had to be the man in charge.

Braelyn desperately tried to think of a way out of her predicament. She had no idea how she'd fare in a fight with the troll, but his mount was the main concern. It could easily double as a pet, attacking her, or cutting off her escape.

"It seems that da Isle o' Thunder be doing somethin' strange to da minds of da Alliance," Vol'jin said, staring at her. "First Jaina Proudmoore be sendin' her people on suicide missions, and now dey be wanderin' around Horde land on their own."

Braelyn relaxed slightly as she realised that Vol'jin didn't know who she was, and didn't seem like he was going to her attack her outright. Perhaps she could reason with him.

"I'm not here to cause trouble, Warchief Vol'jin," she said, curtsying. The troll looked surprised by her actions. "I merely came to collect some... "

"Grass?" he asked, lips curling up in a smirk. Braelyn cursed as she realised how long the troll must have been watching her. She clutched the bag to her chest.

"It's not grass exactly," she said, "but it's something that I need."

"For what?" Vol'jin asked.

"To save a life," Braelyn replied, eyes darting left and right, checking out the terrain.

"I'm interested in hearing how grass be savin' lives now, hunter," the Warchief said, amusement shining in his eyes. "Dat would be a most helpful revelation."

"I don't have the time!" Braelyn said impatiently. She had to get home to Varian. Nothing else mattered, not even her safety. She had to act.

Realising that if she turned to run she'd be caught quickly, Braelyn charged forward. She let out a loud scream, startling Vol'jin's mount and causing it to rear. While the troll was trying to get the raptor calmed down, she kept running.

But there was nowhere to hide, and she couldn't afford to stop and check her map to see in which direction she needed to run. She fought down a wave of panic as she heard Vol'jin coming up behind her. She attempted to zigzag in an effort to confuse him or his mount, but it didn't work. He overtook her, and although she dug in her heels, Braelyn found herself flying face first into the raptor's side.

Braelyn tried to back up, but she was dazed and winded, and it was easy for Vol'jin to reach down and grab her by the hair. She shrieked in pain as he hauled her onto his mount. She struggled as best she was able, hampered in her movement by being off the ground. She also had to avoid being impaled on the Warchief's long tusks as she flailed around.

"Stubborn wench!" Vol'jin cursed as Braelyn almost unseated him with an elbow to the stomach. "Can't ya see ya ain't got anywhere to go, woman?"

"I can't let you take me! I have to get back to the Shrine!" Braelyn yelled, dragging the back of her hand across the Warchief's face. She heard him gasp in pain, and he grabbed her hand to see what had cut him.

His hand tightened around hers painfully, bringing her struggle to an abrupt end. He stared down at her.

"Now, dese be some pretty baubles," he said, eyes narrowing as he gazed at her fingers.

Oh, gods! My rings! I forgot to take off my rings!

While Braelyn knew that her jewelry wouldn't give her away as the queen, she did know that they marked her as an aristocrat. Someone well worth holding to ransom.

"Please!" Braelyn begged. "Please, just let me go. I haven't done anything to deserve this."

"Besides trespass on our territory, ya mean," Vol'jin replied. His tone of voice indicated that there would be no reprieve for Braelyn. She let out a frustrated moan. She could feel Varian slipping away from her.

"No!" Braelyn yelled, kicking her legs against the raptor's flanks. The beast screeched, but did not rear or attempt to dislodge its riders.

Vol'jin readjusted his grip around Braelyn, holding her firmer against him, and trapping her arms against her sides.

"Please, you mustn't do this!" she pleaded to no avail.

"But I am," the Warchief said. "Best be calming yaself, girl. I'm sure we can be arrangin' to send ya home... for a price."

Braelyn screamed all the way back to the Horde camp.

Braelyn's anxiety went into overdrive the moment they arrived at Dawnseeker Promontory. As it was home to the Sunreaver Onslaught, she was bound to run into someone she'd met in Silvermoon, most likely Aethas Sunreaver himself. The last thing she needed was for the Warchief to discover that his aristocratic hostage was actually the Queen of Stormwind.

She wanted to run as soon as Vol'jin put her down, but she'd exhausted herself by her earlier attempts to escape. Braelyn barely had the energy to stand, let alone fight, so she settled for glaring at everyone in sight.

A few of the blood elves were studying her intently. Braelyn didn't recognise any of them, but that didn't mean that they hadn't seen her while she'd been living in Silvermoon. She turned away from them, hoping their interest would fade.

When Vol'jin started to remove her daggers and her bow, Braelyn began yelling and tried to move away. She wouldn't let him take the bow. It had been a gift from Varian, too precious to let the Horde have.

"Don't you dare touch my bow!" she shrieked, punching Vol'jin in the eye. This caused his bodyguards to react angrily, reaching for the bow and ripping it over her head. "No!" She tried to grab it again but Vol'jin pulled her away.

"It's just a bow," he said. "I'm sure ya husband can buy ya another."

At the mention of Varian, Braelyn burst into tears, all her pent-up fear and anxiety spilling out of her. "No, he can't," she wailed, "he can't."

All the drama had attracted the attention of a group of men standing near a tent across the large open square Vol'jin had brought Braelyn to. They walked over to find Braelyn once again struggling to free herself from the Warchief's grasp.

"Braelyn?" Halduron Brightwing asked in disbelief. "What are you doing here?"

Braelyn almost passed out when she saw Halduron, Aethas Sunreaver, and Lor'themar Theron standing in front of her wearing identical expressions of shock. Her eyes went wide, seeking out the fourth man who had to be nearby.

She began to shake, unwilling to deal with the idea of being in the same place as Rommath.

"He is not here, Braelyn," Aethas said. "Not yet, at any rate. Calm yourself."

"Ya know this girl?" Vol'jin asked, glad that his hostage had stopped fighting him.

Seeing Lor'themar start to speak, Braelyn interrupted him, desperate to keep her real identity to herself. They couldn't know who she really was. Surely Lor'themar would understand?

"Lor'themar, please don't!" she cried. With a sad look in his eye, the Regent Lord shook his head.

"I'm sorry, Braelyn, but I cannot help you now," Lor'themar said. He turned to Vol'jin. "This is Braelyn Wrynn, Warchief, and I must insist you show her the respect due to someone of her rank."

"You're the Queen of Stormwind?" Vol'jin asked, staring down at her with shock. Braelyn nodded her head. "What the hell ya be doing out here on ya own?" he demanded, but she couldn't answer. Speech was beyond her now. She raised pleading eyes to Aethas, her mother's dear friend, silently asking him to aid her.

"Warchief," Aethas said, "this woman has recently lost her husband. Surely we can treat her with some mercy?"

Braelyn let a small sigh, the only way she could acknowledge Aethas' small kindness. Part of her wanted to tell them the truth about Varian, to trust to their better natures. She knew that the Horde weren't all monsters, believing, as Anduin did, that they were inherently good and honourable.

But she kept silent, afraid that she was wrong. What if they held her indefinitely? What if they deliberately kept her here so that Varian would die?

"Very well," Vol'jin replied, letting Braelyn go. She immediately went to Aethas, who wrapped her in a friendly embrace. "Take her someplace an' keep her safe. I'll send word ta Thrall, have him talk ta someone at da Alliance shrine. I'm willin' ta come ta an arrangement."

The Warchief's eyes narrowed as he gazed at her. "Ya fight like a lioness, girl," he said. "I'm sorry ya lost ya husband. Da high king was a brave man."

Braelyn nodded her head, allowing Aethas to lead her away. He guided her to a large tent as Halduron and Lor'themar remained to discuss things with the Warchief.

"Braelyn, what are you doing here?" the archmage asked as he settled her on a large couch. Braelyn looked at him and knew that if she could trust anyone here to help her, it was Aethas.

"It's about Varian," she whispered, beckoning the blood elf closer. "Aethas, my husband isn't dead."

"What?" Aethas asked. "But Thrall said that you... "

"I had to keep it secret. Varian is still very ill, poisoned by a large dose of Widow's Veil," she explained, pausing when Aethas grimaced at the mention of the deadly toxin. "The Shrine was still in disarray, and we feared that the assassins would return to finish the job if they learned that my husband still lives."

"Then why are you here?"

"This was the only place we knew the antidote grew."

"Bride's Mantle grows here?" Aethas asked. Braelyn nodded.

"I managed to collect a bag full before running into the Warchief," Braelyn said. "Aethas, I don't care how long they keep me here, but that bag must get to the Shrine of Seven Stars immediately. Varian is running out of time. Please, you must help me, for pity's sake, if not for our friendship's."

Aethas ran a hand over his face, suddenly looking a hundred years old. He sighed. "Very well. I will help you, though I don't know how."

"I have an idea," Braelyn said, squeezing the mage's hand in gratitude. "Have you perchance met a young pandaren woman by the name of Hualing?"

"Why, yes actually," Aethas said. "I was speaking to her earlier about rare alchemy ingr... " Aethas paused, then looked at Braelyn with an exasperated sigh. "She's not really Huojin, is she?"

"No," Braelyn confirmed, "she's Alliance. Aethas, if you get her that bag, she can get it to where it needs to be."

"I'll see to it now, though it might take a while to do so without gaining unwanted attention," Aethas said. "You're still as headstrong as ever," he added with a shake of his head.

"Of course," Braelyn said. "I may have gotten married, Aethas, but I'm still a Hawke!"

Aethas' smile dropped. "Speaking of your marriage, Braelyn... Rommath will be here shortly. When he finds out you're here, he will want to speak to you. You'd better prepare yourself."

Braelyn tensed up, but managed a tight smile for her friend. "Thanks for the warning, Aethas."

The Archmage nodded as he stood up. "Rest well, Braelyn, and I will send Lorelai in to see you. She has been anxious to see you again, especially since we heard of your wedding."

Braelyn smiled. She had missed Lorelai like crazy since returning to Goldshire. The blood elf priest had been a good friend during her stay in Silvermoon. "I look forward to seeing her."

She didn't have to wait long. Barely five minutes passed since Aethas' departure and then the tent flap was thrown back with great force, a blonde blood elf woman running in.

"Braelyn!" Lorelai cried, pulling her into a warm hug. "By the Light, what has happened to you?"

"It's a long story, my dear friend," Braelyn said, tears gathering in her eyes as she remembered just how kind this woman had been to her. "And I don't know if I have the strength to tell it right now."

"Then say nothing," Lorelai replied, "and let me take care of you." She raised her hand and began casting a few gentle healing spells over her friend.

Braelyn began to feel better as she felt the magic flowing through her, though she was somewhat unsettled by Lorelai's sharp gasp, and the repetition of one spell.

"Lorelai, what's wrong?" she asked, gazing at the priest, who was suddenly looking very flustered.

"Uh, Braelyn, I don't know how to say this, so I'm just going to blurt it out, all right?" Lorelai said, before taking a deep breath. "You're pregnant."

"Say what now?" Braelyn asked, shock rendering her almost speechless.

"You're pregnant," Lorelai repeated, smiling softly at her friend's reaction. "You're only in the early stages, but I definitely felt the life growing within you."

"Really?" Braelyn said, but she didn't wait for confirmation. A smile burst across her face like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. "Oh, Lorelai!" She stood up and hugged her friend tightly. "You don't know how happy this makes me!"

"I am glad for you," Lorelai replied, "but I need to go get you some potions. All this stress and activity is not good for you or the baby. Wait here."

Braelyn hardly noticed Lorelai leave, too wrapped up with thoughts of impending motherhood. She stood up and began pacing, her hand rubbing her stomach. She wondered how Varian would react to the news. Would he want a little boy or a girl?

The news would be the best 'get well' present she could give him, and, now that she knew that he would recover, she felt free to indulge in idle daydreams.

Lorelai returned, but the priest looked oddly unsettled. She pressed a small purple vial into Braelyn's hand. "You need to drink this now," she said. "You have a visitor, and you need to keep calm."

"All right," Braelyn said, with a smile. She could deal with the Warchief now that she knew everything was working out the way she'd hoped. She drank the potion down and handed the vial back to Lorelai. The priest smiled and hugged her briefly.

"I will be back later," she said, and then left Braelyn to resume her pacing.

Braelyn was lost in her thoughts when she heard the tent flap being opened again. "Warchief," she said turning around, "I want to..."

Her words died on her lips when she saw that her visitor was not Warchief Vol'jin. She closed her eyes, praying that she was simply hallucinating as a result of her long and exhausting week. When she opened her eyes, however, her visitor remained unchanged.

"Rommath... "

AN - dun dun dun.

Next Chapter: Braelyn is forced to confront her past, when all she wants to do is plan her future.