Even though Maiev had come to the room without her rather unique and characteristic helmet, it took time for the aqua-haired woman to pay some attention towards the Warden's beauty. After all, it had been a while since she had an opportunity to witness her without this massive piece of steel that only obstructed her features, she realised a few moments later. Considering that he had parted on not the greatest terms, it was only natural that the High Priestess occupied herself with other matters only to postpone the inevitable clash between them. It seemed that the ages they had spent apart had affected her memory to some extent, as she almost gasped, surprised by the Chief Warden's beauty. Thankfully, this state did not persist for all that long, as a mere few moments later, the memories started flooding her mind. With these fragmented pieces of her past life, she realised the white-haired woman had not changed all that much since their first meeting. Of course, if she had time and put enough effort into her observation, she would find some differences, but overall, Shadowsong seemed untouched by the passing of time. Soon enough, some vivid flashbacks of much happier times popped inside the priestess's subconsciousness, allowing her to relive their shared past to some extent. She saw them studying, working, and doing their best to ascend in the hierarchy of the Cult of Elune. The former priestess was much taller than Tyrande, towering over her by about a head's length. Though it was challenging to assess anything about her figure due to the bulky armour she usually wore, she remembered her lean yet curvy, with abdominal muscles slightly peeking through her light skin. That being said, these were hardly the most thrilling and eye-catching details about the white-haired Warden. No … this title was rightfully reserved for her face. Not for the first time, Tyrande found herself pondering whether the Goddess herself had not participated in shaping it. No matter how long she stared at the Chief Warden, she always ended up baffled by her perfectly noble facial features. It would certainly not be an understatement if Tyrande said it resembled an artist's final masterpiece, a creation taking years of effort, blood, sweat, and tears. And the result … turned out to be more than it had been intended, in the end.

Whisperwind could spend a long time describing the Warden's leader, but it was hardly time or place for such devoted daydreaming. Above her high cheekbones, a pair of cold, silver eyes were socketed, seemingly piercing through walls, flesh, and souls. If you paired these with a relatively small, shapely nose and plump, slightly magenta lips usually twisted in a mocking smirk, you would see perfection.

Maiev Shadowsong was a warrior through and through, a fact that hardly diminished her breathtaking beauty. In fact, the High Priestess considered this beauty and her ability to seamlessly switch between her vastly contradicting personalities as two of the most dangerous weapons at her disposal. Even amongst her sisters, who were undoubtedly attractive, she resembled a black diamond, a one-in-a-million beauty. Her long, snowy hair was always styled into a high ponytail that reached the middle of her back. A victorious smirk played on these seemingly soft yet plump lips. Tyrande realised that it only grew when the Warden glanced at her, noticing her puzzled and uncertain state. If she were to compare Maiev to anyone, she would inevitably choose their Goddess, as Shadowsong shared quite a few similarities with the divine being. No matter whether the white-haired currently considered herself a Sentinel, Warden, or priestess, she was their people's defender with a soft heart for friends and an iron fist for enemies.

"Your will is my command, High Priestess," the Chief Warden broke the silence, switching back to her usual cold voice. The abrupt and rather unexpected change made Whisperwind shudder. "I'll gather my sisters, and we'll march straight to the rally point at the Mount Hyjal. However, I feel there's a matter we need to discuss before we leave."

"What would it be?" Tyrande questioned, partially intrigued.

Shadowsong did not reply. Instead, she closed the gap between herself and the so-called Betrayer, allowing her smirk to widen. With her hands still clad in the iron-bound talon-like gauntlets, she pressed on the man's broad shoulders, forcing him to bend. The white-haired woman capitalised on that in what seemed a mere blink of an eye, leaning in and aggressively capturing Stormrage's lips. She allowed the pleasure to last a tad longer than she anticipated but deemed it nonconsequential. However, the kiss was eventually broken, leaving Illidan's mouth gapped, which was wordlessly commented on, with a mischievous smirk already forming back. Afterwards, the Warden pulled his head closer, situating herself right beside his right ear as if she was about to whisper some secrecy. Yet, she did the opposite, allowing her voice to be heeded by the shocked aqua-haired woman.

"Perhaps … just perhaps, you aren't to be blamed for the past, Stormrage," she started, her voice once again shifting, becoming soft and surprisingly tender. "Yet, make no mistake, my dear Betrayer. I'll always be waiting for you to misstep, eager to pounce and hunt you again. I've captured once; who's to say I won't repeat that feat? If the need arises, I'll be after you," she added, concluding this unexpectedly delivered threat. "But … for now, it's high time for me to leave you in her stead. Behave yourself, my dearest Betrayer," Maiev said, smirking openly, obviously enjoying the moment too much.

As if nothing happened, the Chief Warden walked off, heading towards the corridor she had come from earlier. For the next few moments, the only sounds filling the air were Maiev's heavy footsteps receding steadily. Tyrande kept staring at the demon hunter, waiting for the man to speak up finally. In the meantime, Stormrage stilled, as if still processing what happened. At some point, the raven-haired man reached towards his lips with his large right hand, inspecting the swollen tissue as if he did not believe the kiss occurred. Though, the trance did not last all that long before Illidan straightened up and focused on the High Priestess.

"What is troubling you, Tyrande?" the dark-haired man questioned, slowly approaching. "Please … do not try to lie to me; I can virtually feel your distress as physical pain."

"I'm … I'm fine," the aqua-haired woman responded slowly.

"You are lying, my dear," Stormrage commented, allowing his silken voice to lower. "Please … do not lie to me," he repeated. "I thought I told you once that you could tell me everything … no matter how painful it would be. Nonetheless, I would like to extend my gratitude for your arrival and for getting me out," he added, stilling a few steps away from Whisperwind. "I can only imagine what you needed to go through to get here. Undoubtedly, you opposed my dear brother's will. It would not be a surprise if, after all these years, his resentment still persisted. Perhaps … you had to overrule his judgment?" the man continued. "That being said … tell me what is bothering you, Tyrande?"

The High Priestess's mind became a mess she could hardly recognise. Even though it was filled with a vast amount of contradicting thoughts and ideas, only one of them mattered, or perhaps she wished it mattered. It was a singular image, scene, a memory that flashed before her eyes only a few moments ago of Maiev kissing her friend. And here the dilemma truly began … who was Illidan to her? Was he a friend, a loved one, or a lover? Definitely, he is much more than a friend, she realised in her subconscious. Considering the pang of jealousy that stung her when she saw Shadowsong playing around him, if she had said otherwise, she would have been lying. This jealousy was clouding her better judgment.

"Do you love her?" she questioned after a long pause. These four simple words were everything the High Priestess managed to muster. She would want to believe he would deny it. But something within her already knew the answer.

Illidan did not reply immediately, meaning there was some sort of a connection between them. Worse, he did not straight up deny the speculation. For a brief moment, Tyrande wanted to disappear, fade into nothingness, as her glass-built world shattered, feeling her with a pain she wished she would have never tasted.

For a while, all they did was stand still, staring at each other. As much as Whisperwind would want, she could not discard the thought that bothered her mind, nor could she move on. For her, seconds seemed like minutes, minutes like hours, infinitely extending her torment. If some asked Tyrande how long this state persisted, she found it challenging, if not impossible, to answer. Thankfully, she stirred away from this troubling daydreaming when she felt a slightly rough yet warm hand upon her flesh, stroking her gently as if in fear she would come undone and shatter like a glass construct. Unwittingly, a cold yet somehow pleasant shiver ran down her spine, making her shudder.

Even though her eyes remained wide open, she saw nothing, as if her world was flooded with impenetrable shadows. That being said, she did not need her eyes to verify who stood behind this wave of flames rapidly spreading throughout her frame. Illidan Stormrage was an entity seemingly solely built upon a concept of contradiction. The man towered above her, his massive muscular frame obstructing her field of vision, yet when he touched her, it was all gentle and tender. Snapping back towards reality, Tyrande looked intently at her lover's face, finding it the way she remembered and, frankly, loved. He remained expressionless and quiet, giving her as much to adjust as she needed.

The High Priestess would want nothing else than to hug the dark-haired man and get lost in his strangely familiar warmth, a vague concept that should have been forgotten throughout the ages they had spent apart. To her utmost surprise, the demon hunter seemed capable of reading her mind as he quickly pulled her in, wrapping his strong arms around her much more fragile frame. Unwittingly, a somewhat audible moan left her slightly parted lips, making her flush out of sheer embarrassment. Nonetheless, she wordlessly appreciated the man's gesture, returning it as soon as she pieced her fragmented mind. In a rather strange surge of affection, the aqua-haired woman put all strength she could muster into the hug, embracing Illidan so tight a slight discontent arose. Furthermore, against her better judgment, she rested her spinning head against the demon hunter's broad chest, intently listening to his rhythmical heartbeat. Then, she finally shattered, feeling safe for the first time in some time. A few crystal-clear tears rolled out, staining her flawless cheeks and leaving their trails behind.

The next few moments were filled with silence as both lovers struggled with how to approach this relatively unexpected reunion. Considering the vast amount of time that had passed since their last meeting, it was difficult to put into words how they felt. There were things they wanted to share, but they found it far more comforting to remain in each others' arms. At some point, Stormrage withdrew his right hand from her lower back, placing it on top of her head, combing her strands with extreme care. At the same time, Tyrande realised the dark-haired man was murmuring words in a dialect she did not know. Even though it inevitably sparked her curiosity, the High Priestess forced herself to still, too pleased with his long fingers running down her scalp.

"Tyrande," the first demon hunter finally broke the silence, switching back to the language she understood. "As much as I would like to give you an answer, I can not," he started, allowing his voice to be stained with raw emotions. "I find myself unable to answer your question. You know fully well that before my imprisonment, I developed a strong feeling towards her. But … I fear that there is little remaining of the woman I had fallen in love with," he added with a clear sadness and discontent in his voice. "As of now, it seems there are two souls living inside her. One is gentle, caring, and lovely … the other is the complete opposite. Throughout my time here, two things became clear to me. Maiev would usually make my life a living hell, torture me, or hunt me down as if I were a wild animal. At the same time, she could occasionally visit my cell, showing a vastly different visage. But … what was her motive behind it? I can not say. Whether she wanted to sate her own desires, enforce her control over me, or something vastly different, she never shared her reasoning with me," he sighed, apparently embarrassed with everything he confessed to. "I would say that I am still in love with her past self … even though it might be a mere idea, a piece of my past."

Author's notes section:

The original chapter name is: The further we go, the dimmer the moonlight becomes. But ... I can not use it as FF is limiting the number of char for the title ...

As I have mentioned previously, the main focus for June and July 2024 will be rewriting as many "My home is where my heart lies" chapters as possible. That being said, I have already started writing this chapter, so I will publish what I have currently and I will release the full piece once I have it completed.

Ok ... as I have mentioned previously, I will try to start rewriting the next chapter of "My home is where my hear lies" within the next few days. In the meantime, I will be working on this piece. I hope you will end up enjoying this chapter while waiting for another rewrite.

So, it's done. I wholeheartedly appologise for a slight plothole in the WIP. I had not reread the previous chapter before I started working on this one. As there might be some questions regarding things I included in this piece, I will be explaining the seeming contradiction in the next few chapters. As of now, please enjoy the chapter :)

Please note that the dialogues written in italics are thoughts.

As always, I would like to thank you for everything. See you soon :)

Changelog:
[2024-06-28]: A preview was released.
[2024-07-01]: A major update applied, and the final revision released.

References:
- Skycycle - It's Terror Time Again
- Elton John - Sacrifice
- Ratt - Givin' Yourself Away

End of the author's notes section.