The Forged Throne

by MerriForrester

For twenty years, Azeroth enjoyed a peace that Valerica Glenmore took for granted. Now, with war after war ravaging her home city of Stormwind, the only safety she has is the man she's loved for most of her life, Varian Wrynn. He is the King of an Alliance that could bring them from disaster, and she would join countless others in the fight for their home. EXTREMELY AU.

80. Chapter 80

Val was exhausted. They'd been at this for what felt like days, and she'd lost more men than she cared to count at this point. Blood of all different hues covered her from head to toe, her blade and hammer were both caked in the remnants of the vile creatures she'd been up against, it was as foul as it was strangely rewarding.

She finished hacking the head of Blood Queen Lana'thel, who had been waiting for them in the western chamber with her princes.

She'd wiped out half of Val's troop before they'd managed to finally rid themselves of her minions and even get close, and it had been mightily satisfying for Val to plunge her blade into the witch's heart and finally watch her crumple into a heap at her feet.

"You know that's probably just a superstition?"

She looked up at Adil through blood crusted eyelashes, sawing through the last bit of spine and trying not to retch at the wet crack as it finally separated. "I've seen enough of the Lich King's creatures put themselves back together once we became complacent. I'm not giving this bitch the chance. We'll take it as a trophy, to prove to Varian that we haven't just been sitting on our arses."

Adil tore Lana'thel's admittedly exquisite cloak from her discarded corpse, laying it down so Val could place her head in the centre and wrap it properly.

"Voloron, how many did we lose?"

The Night elf rose to his feet, holding out a small satchel. "Fifty two, overall, Ma'am. Leaving us with near on two hundred left."

Val grimaced, wiping her sword on the San'layn queen's body. "That's not ideal, but it'll have to do. Are these their tags?"

Voloron nodded, letting her put the satchel on her belt. "As many as we can find, Ma'am."

Adil helped Val rise herself, flicking his hand to rid it of whatever had started congealing on her palm. "Let us leave and meet with Muradin. We've done all we can here."

Val felt a spark of pride as she gave him a nod. "If he's proved as successful as we have, that means our mission is complete, Your Highness."

He gave her a sly smile, finding his discarded scimitar and sheathing it. "It would seem so. Congratulations, sergeant."

She couldn't help her grin, giving him a quick squeeze when he held his arms out for it.

She cleared her throat, pivoting on her heel to face what men they had left. "All of you, take sixty seconds to catch your breath. Share whatever rations you have left on you and get ready to move out, and watch that damn door in case any more San'layn arrive."

Adil put his hands on his hips. "We'll seek out Lord Bronzebeard in the main chamber, and if he requires no aid, we'll all make our way to the western balcony, the agreed meeting point."

Val gave them the signal to finally relax after hours of non stop battle, patting the shoulder of a Draenei that all but dropped to a sitting position on the floor. "Don't get too comfortable, my friend."

His large hand enveloped hers. "I don't intend to, Ma'am. I wish not to linger in this place more than necessary."

Val grunted an agreement, taking a hunk of bread Adil passed her.

"How do you think the others are doing?" he asked, and Val shrugged, not really wanting to know the answer in case it wasn't in any way the one she wanted.

"They should've gotten to the Frozen Throne by now, so anything could be happening."

Adil's brow creased at her tone. "I merely pray that this will be the last war my Father has to fight. He is getting on in years, and I fear another will finish him off."

Val inappropriately snorted, swallowing the dry bread. "I won't tell him you just called him old."

Adil started laughing, which seemed even more inappropriate considering they were both standing here in the middle of a battlefield caked in all things quite horrific. "That would be appreciated."

Val cleared her throat, striding towards the doors that had been slammed shut by Lana'thel upon their entry. "Alliance, weapons at the ready and block formation."

She let the scuffling die down before she pressed her shoulder against one of the double doors and Adil the other, heaving them open with what little strength they had left.

It was quite the trek to get back to the main chamber, and she couldn't deny that her legs were beginning to burn with over exertion.

The blood was starting to dry, making whatever wasn't covered in plate start to itch, it just wasn't a pleasant experience overall…but still she had a smile on her face. She was far too proud that they'd actually managed to clear the entire vicinity to even care that she felt and probably smelt like absolute hell right now, and apparently that sentiment was shared by the Prince walking next to her.

"Hard to believe that this place was swarmed when we first arrived, isn't it?"

She grunted an agreement, pointing upwards. "And the fact that he hasn't called reinforcements tells me he's busy."

She didn't need to elaborate on what exactly the Lich King was busy with, she could see on Adil's face that he knew what she meant. She spotted Muradin emerging from the same corridor they'd watched him disappear down earlier, and a hearty wave accompanied by a shout of his name got his attention.

"Nice to see you still with us, Milord!"

His booming laugh rang throughout the desolate chamber. "There was a minute where ah was a bit worried, ah will nae lie!"

He got closer, seeing in detail the state of them and letting them in turn see how crusted with green he was. "What in tha name of all that is holy did ye find down there?!"

Val folded her arms while Adil helpfully rounded up their remaining soldiers. "Blood sucking elves. What about you?"

Muradin shuddered, falling into step with her. "Forsaken madman and his 'creations'. Bloody disgustin' they were."

Val couldn't help raising an eyebrow. "A Forsaken still working for the Lich King? I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that one."

Muradin huffed. "Neither were we, lass. Bastard tried ta gas us out a few times."

Her lips pursed, and she immediately regretted it when the coppery tinge of blood slid onto her tongue. "How many did you lose?"

Muradin looked back at his troop as they mingled with the rest. "Not alot, in hindsight. Bout thirty odd?" Val seemed impressed.

"We lost about sixty, so ninety men out of about three hundred…that's not too bad, all things considered."

Muradin slowly nodded, sheathing his hammers. "If I may suggest callin' tha gunship and gettin' back to camp?"

Val was torn, he could see it on her face. Part of her, was begging to simply go back to camp and sleep for a year; their task was done, their part of the assault complete, they more than deserved it.

But then the other side of her wanted to rally her troops and join Varian topside, to bolster his forces and help ensure his victory…but it wouldn't be useful nor appreciated. Her men were weary, they were battered, they needed rest. "Aye. We'll go back to camp and compile our reports."

She cleared her throat, trying to make its strained chords work properly. "All units, fall in!"

She gave them a chance to do exactly that, quickening her pace by a small margin to get this done quickly.

She was well aware that the Lich King could still send reinforcements down here, and she didn't want to take that risk. "We've achieved victory for the Alliance today, you should all be proud of yourselves. Lord Bronzebeard will call the gunship, and you'll all be appropriately fed and watered for your efforts. Good work, all of you."

She smiled at the shout of 'For the Alliance!' that inevitably started a chain of them, raising a hand for quiet when they became a little too rowdy. "Stand ready on the balcony, and show decorum until we get back to camp. We still represent the Alliance until then."

Adil's more playful salute behind her back made a few snickers start up here and there, but honestly, Val was willing to allow it at this point, she was in that good a mood. "Muradin, any luck getting those doors open?"

The dwarf grunted in annoyance, waving a few more of his men over. "They ain't locked, ah know tha fer a fact, they're just heavy bastards. Give us a tick."

Adil grimaced, coming to Val's side. "It's times such as these were I wish I could simply blast them open."

Val gave him a smirk she was sure he wouldn't appreciate. "Getting magic withdrawals?"

Adil's sneer held the same teasing edge her smile had. "Ha ha. I'll have you know, unlike some, I can live without it."

Val's eyebrow rose in curiosity. "So you've neverused it for personal gain? Not once?"

Adil tapped the side of his nose with a sly grin, making her laugh ring across the chamber. It was battled by the loud slam of the doors finally giving and allowing them access to the outside, where the chilled wind was actually welcomed for once by the sweating, heated soldiers marching onto the balcony.

"Muradin, send the flare up. I'm sure Gelbin said they can see it from Wintergarde."

The dwarf was already preparing with his men gathered around him, and Val couldn't resist it any longer; she went to the very edge, glad of Adil's hand flattening against her back as she craned her neck upwards, hoping for even just a hint about what was happening above.

"Anything?"

Val shook her head, coming away and running both hands down her face, smearing the thick crust of crimson covering it."Not a damn thing. I can't even hear it over the din from below."

She pounded a fist against her other palm, aimlessly wandering in circles. "If I could just make sure he's alright, I can go back to camp with a clear conscience."

Adil clapped her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Our troops need respite, and so do you, Val. We've been fighting for hours, we'd be fools to try and face the Lich King now."

Val hated that he was right. She slumped down onto the floor, stretching her aching legs out. "I'm an impatient cow, you should know this by now."

Adil chuckled. "Who said I didn't?"

Val's laugh lasted for all of two seconds before an almighty bang rang out behind her and the flare screeched its way into the sky, forming a large red ball once it reached its peak. "Gunship shouldn't be too long, lass!"

She gave Muradin a nod, straightening her back as much as she could and wincing. "Ah, battle fatigue. How I've not fucking missed you."

Adil folded his arms, wisely choosing not to sit in case he never rose again. "Regret coming back to the battlefield?"

Val didn't even need to think about it before she shook her head. "Not in the slightest."

They heard a dull roar in the distance, and considering Val had arranged with the pilot to stay about five minutes away, she presumed it to be the gunship, so she rose to her feet with Adil's help.

"All of you, fall in and get…ready…to.."

Her command died in her throat and everyone could see the reason why. Instead of the gunship, a dragon made of bone and frost was pelting towards them at a horrific speed, surrounded by a wave of whelps that Val wasn't even about to try and begin to count.

"Get back! Get back, all of you!"

Everything happened too quickly for Val to even register it all; she couldn't even remember shouting the order before her front was slammed to the floor.

For a split second, when she looked up, she saw the charred, mangled remains of her brother, and not the living Prince that had shielded her.

It brought back every horrible memory of that day, and the smell of burning flesh, a smell she'd tried her damnedest to forget, assaulted her from all sides. She scrambled to her feet simply to make Lucian go away, ignoring how the men's agonised screams echoed hers when she had felt the results of being caught in flame.

"Retreat…We need to retreat, to get back inside, away from the fire…"

Adil grabbed her shoulders and pulled her back as one of their men was flung in front of them, singed and bleeding where the beast had decided to take him for a small flight before killing him. "We cannot go back, there's a barrier across the door. The Lich King must've seen the flare and sent the creature to stop us from leaving."

Muradin hacked another of the whelps from the air, grunting as he pulled his axe free from it's small corpse. "We've lost too many men already, and that overgrown lizard has just whittled them down even more. We need reinforcements."

Val shoved Adil away, grabbing Stormfall with both hands and swinging upwards to take care of the whelp coming towards her. "We don't have that luxury! If that things still flying when the gunship gets here, it won't stand a chance! We need to get her to ground!"

She pressed herself back against the wall as once again a tunnel of flame ripped it's way through the Alliance soldiers, with only some getting out of the way in time. Bodies littered the plateau, and the smell was becoming too much for a shaking Val. "Adil, we need a ward."

The Samark Prince looked at her incredulously. "Val, you know I can't-"

She was starting to panic, which was never good. "We need to contain that damn dragon, and if Jaina can make a fucking portal, you can cast one stupid ward! At least try!"

Adil's brows drew in, but the argument sitting on the tip of his tongue was interrupted by another bone rattling roar as the dragon came back around. "Adil…please. I'll answer for it if anything happens."

He sighed deeply, raising both arms and quietly chanting, making the runes spark and hiss like a broken gnomish machine. "Lass, we have ta take care of them whelps."

She knew that, but she had no idea exactly howthey were going to do it. "Any archers we have left need to get back and shoot as many down as they can with what arrows are left. The rest of us will just have to do it the old fashioned way."

Voloron readied his own bow, pointing it upwards.

"Here they come!"

It truly was like a tidal wave had crashed over them; before Val could even give a command, the whelps were all around her, nipping and scratching with claws and teeth that felt like they were made of steel. She managed to catch a few with her hammer, but it was like cutting the head of a hydra; when one fell, two more appeared.

"You are fools to come to this place! The icy winds of Northrend will consume your souls!"

The dragon's voice went straight through Val's head, making every hair on her arms stand up. The whelps continued to swarm them, and where they'd all been preparing to leave, the soldiers around her were sluggish, which she couldn't exactly blame them for, but it made things incredibly more difficult.

"How's Adil doing?"

Muradin glanced over, swinging his axe upwards after to catch a whelp coming his way. "He's well guarded, and glowin' like a torch. I'm assuming tha's a good thing?"

Val shrugged, turning to desperate measures already and grabbing the wings of a whelp hounding Voloron, throwing it down and smashing its head with the flat of her hammer.

Try not to think about how they're essentially children Val. Don't think about it, don't think about it.

"Hit the deck!"

She practically jumped to the floor as another flume came towards them, this time made up of icicles by the thousands. They impaled the few poor sods that didn't move in time, and even a good chunk of the whelps were hit by the glistening stakes.

It should've made Val a little more optimistic that the herd had been thinned, but the action merely told her that the dragon didn't care about who she killed, which made her unpredictable, and a million times more dangerous.

One soared past her, catching the bottom of her jaw and leaving a sting that made small dots appear in front of her eyes as she rose.

"Val, ye alright?!" Muradin yelled, and she nodded after a few painful seconds, feeling the blood oozing from her wound but figuring there was nothing she could do about it right now.

"Where the fuck is that gunship?"

She grabbed her hammer again, concerned as to how much more the weapon could possibly take at this point. "Voloron, round up whatever archers are left and get to the perimeter!"

Val yelled, glad to see that the elf heard her over the din, but rather dismayed to find that there was only three archers left when they'd had over twentymere minutes ago. "Muradin, we need to bring the big one closer, or Adil's never going to manage to contain it."

The dwarf seemed to know what she meant, but didn't like the look on her face. "Human bait? Are ye sure lass?"

Val smacked another whelp out of the way. "We don't have a choice! Cover me!"

She was already pelting away before Muradin even had time to argue, and she heard his heavy footfall behind her as she thundered towards the edge of the plateau. She took her pistol out of its holster, using what few precious bullets she had left to fire blindly, knowing full well that she wouldn't injure the skeletal beast.

But she did manage to get its attention, and soon Val was backing away as quickly as she could, glad that Muradin caught her as she stumbled. "Adil! Are you almost ready?" She could hear loud crackles and feel the air electrifying, so she took that as a yes.

The dragon swooped down, opening her jaws and letting loose another shower of ice upon them. Val was sure she wasn't low enough, but once again she underestimated the power of mages.

There was an almighty rumble behind her and a shaky, unstable golden orb encased the flailing dragon, barely managing to keep its angered shots of flame and ice contained.

"Everyone, get back!"

Those who weren't still occupied with the whelps obeyed her instantly, scrambling to get out of the firing line in case Light forbid Adil's magic failed and the dragon was freed.

The floor shook as the beast was forcefully grounded, and Val tried to take the second long reprieve they'd been given to think of a suitable plan. "Adil, how long can you hold on for?!"

He grunted in response, and she could see sweat dripping from his brow. "Not long!" He cried, and Muradin rushed back to Val's side.

"What ya thinkin' lass?"

Val grimaced, rapidly looking around them. "Let Adil contain the dragon until we either get rid of the whelps or the gunship arrives, whichever comes first."

She had defeat coating her voice. "We don't have enough men to kill that thing, Muradin, it'd be suicide."

Muradin pointed upwards with a little more optimism. "Well then, it's a good thing tha gunships well on it's way. Gelbin's flare musta done tha trick."

She found herself cautiously agreeing. "Aye, let's just hope the cannons are ready. Alliance! Take care of the whelps still living and prepare for evacuation once the gunship lands! Paladins, see to Prince Adil!"

Thankfully, her first order was already being carried out, and by the time the gunship had grown close enough for Val to feel even the slightest bit optimistic, the place was littered with the bodies of small dragons.

"Adil… lower the ward."

She said it with such confidence, but he gave her a nervous glance despite the spell clearly taking it's toll on his body. "Are you sure?"

Val nodded. "We need to keep it distracted long enough for the cannons to take it out. Your ward can't be there."

Adil looked to Muradin, who was on his other side, and the dwarf gave him a confirming nod. He lowered his hands and they both caught the prince as his knees buckled, with Val looping his arm over her shoulders.

"Alliance! Keep that dragon where it is at all costs!"

She bellowed, feeling absolutely awful for essentially telling the few men they had left to run headfirst into danger. She and Muradin sat Adil down, and with a pat on his shoulder to reassure him that help was coming, they joined their troops.

Val ducked as claws the size of greatswords came swiping down, just catching her back and leaving grooves in her armour. From the corner of her eye Val could see the gunship getting closer, so she knew they wouldn't be at this long, but it was already proving rather futile, with another of her men impaled on the end of a bony tail and flung like a ragdoll across the plateau.

"Keep at it, men! Just a bit longer!" Muradin bellowed, dodging a wing that nearly knocked him clear off of his feet.

Val managed to land a blow to the dragon's lower leg, but it didn't crumple as everything else had today. She knew that the dragon had been the Lich King's trump card, the one thing he had up his sleeve to wipe them all out, and by the way they were being utterly decimated, he was getting the last laugh.

She took another swing, wincing against the horrific screech that came from the creature. There were cracks beginning to appear in the thigh bone, which was reassuring, but that was the way they were to stay, for the same tail that had pierced it's way through her soldiers made a beeline for Val, stabbing at the air around her.

She must've blinked and missed it wind back, for one powerful swing sideways and she was knocked off of her feet and hitting the hard ground with a sickening thud. Gasping for air, she tried to stand but couldn't do it.

Something was definitely broken, she could feel it, and it was making it ten times harder to keep rolling from side to side in an attempt to avoid being impaled by the tail's tip.

"Hold on Lassie! I'm comin!" Muradin bellowed, but he wouldn't get the chance to be her white knight, for the gunship had apparently noticed their plight, and the screaming sound of cannonballs hurtling through the air made Val's ears pop.

They hit their target and she had no choice but to curl in on herself as splinters of bone showered the plateau, with one last tunnel of blue flame launching into the sky before it disappeared. There were shouts, but she couldn't hear them over the dull roar of the ship's engines, and a hand curled around her elbow, forcing her to unfurl her body.

"Lass, come on. It's over, we're goin' home." Muradin's voice was full of relief, and it was a relief Val shared as she managed to sit herself up, grimacing down at the arm that hung lamely at her side.

"I thought I heard a crunch," she muttered, giving Muradin her good hand.

"Never mind lass, we'll getcha patched up soon enough."

She leant on him a little more than she really meant to, and with each hobbling step, the gunship grew closer, and with it, the end of the war, at least on their part. Adil was carried past them on a stretcher carried by two hulking Draenei, and Val wasn't surprised at how awful he looked.

Just before they got to the gangplank, the ground beneath them started to quiver, and Val felt her heart sink. "Oh what now…?" She heard a rumbling from up above, and convinced herself that it was the ceiling about to cave in on them.

It wasn't.

From the very top of the citadel, a blinding blue light lit up the entire complex, blinding Val as she looked up to see what had caused it. There was a bone chilling chorus of moans and wails, accompanied by what she could swear were honest to goodness spiritscircling the structure.

Muradin had stopped to gawp as the rest of them had, making Val watch until there was an almighty boom, and all was deathly silent, with darkness looming once again.

"That was up at the throne..." She stuttered, and Muradin lightly jolted his shoulder, making her look down at him.

"Donnae think about it lass. Come, let's get ya seen to."

Val pulled him back, ignoring how it made her shoulder burn. "Varian's up there…"

Muradin patted her back, guiding her once again to the waiting ship. "He'll be fine lassie, I promise ye."

She clearly didn't believe him, and tears were already starting to well in her eyes. "He's killed them…that's what that was. That was Frostmourne taking them…"

Muradin shushed her, handing her over to the two medics that were waiting with a stretcher lying by their feet. "Donnae talk like that lass. Go on, take her aboard boys, and get us back ta camp."

Wintergarde Keep could be compared to a disturbed beehive with the way soldiers and medics were buzzing around the place as quickly as their legs could take them. Both the dead and the wounded littered every scrap of ground, and the stench of blood was overwhelming.

Val refused the stretcher offered to her once they landed, choosing instead to shamble next to the one carrying the unconscious Prince of Samarkand. She'd tell anyone that asked that she saw his condition as entirely her doing, so it felt almost obligatory to stay with him.

Her left arm was tied to her chest with a makeshift sling, and every step reminded her just how tiredher battered body was, but she wasn't concerned with any of it right now. She was still dazed by the very real possibility that she'd just witnessed her husband's murder and not been able to do a damn thing about it.

There'd been no other sign of life from the citadel as they'd taken off, so she knew nothing of the assault's outcome, and it was starting to vex her greatly.

One of the High Priests of Sekhmet came to meet them, and she could already see that he'd been kept busy by the sheer amount of red that had seeped into the white linen of his robes.

"Please, bring the prince in here," He pleaded, extending an arm towards the gold and cream tent belonging to the Samarks.

Val protested when it was suggested to her that she separate and go to the Stormwind tent, enough to make others around them start to stop and stare. Eventually the medics attending them relented and she stayed on one side of the stretcher while the High Priest fell into step opposite her.

With a wave of his bony hand, the linen carrying Adil started to float on it's own and followed them to a screened off corner. Val used her good arm to help slide it from underneath the prince once they'd transferred him to the table, holding his hand while the High Priest began muttering what was either a prayer or a spell under his breath.

"What happened to him?" His sharp tone mixed with a heavy accent made Val feel rather intimidated.

"He summoned a ward to contain a dragon- it drained him, I think."

The High Priest ran a hand over his bald head, creasing it in a deep frown. "Please, the chest to your right, open it and give me three of the crystals within."

It was a little tricky with one arm, but somehow Val managed it, holding the first one aloft and closely inspecting it. "Are these mana crystals?"

The priest shook his head, taking it from her and placing it next to Adil's left hip. "No, they are tokens of Hekali. Old magicks."

Again, that was all the explanation she was getting, and he took the second from her hand in silence, putting this one above Adil's head.

"Place the third by his other hip, if you would."

She did it without question, and he produced a bowl of what she hoped was red paint, using two fingers to mark Adil's with different runes than the ones that were already etched on his arms.

"Step back," he ordered, and she found herself hanging her head as she obeyed him, like a naughty child before their parent. The High Priest raised both hands, chanting once again but louder than before, with eyes that glowed a brilliant gold.

Within the crystal, a purple smoke started to form, and three arches of the same smoke converged just above Adil's heart, where they shot down as one tendril and sank deep into his chest. Adil gasped but did not move, and Val couldn't hold her tongue anymore.

"Will this help him?" she questioned, and the High Priest slowly nodded, not breaking his chant for even a second.

"Hekali is bestowing his gifts once again."

Val wasn't sure she'd grasped any of what he'd said. "He'll live?"

She got another nod, but this time he didn't say anything, but then again, he didn't have to. She let out the breath she hadn't even known she'd been holding, feeling her ribs protest as so strong an exhale and remembering that she had her own problems.

Suddenly, everything hurt. She didn't even notice the High Priest catching her until she was almost on the floor, and weakly thanked him when he helped her up.

"May I have a look?" he kindly offered, and she gave him a nod, swearing under her breath as he raised her arm first. "Broken from elbow to wrist. What happened?"

Val huffed, wincing as his thumb prodded certain spots. "A dragon threw me across a room with its tail."

He seemed totally unfazed by her explanation. "And you landed on it?"

Val nodded again, trying not to cry when he poked a particularly painful spot. "Aye, I heard a crunch as soon as I went down."

He gently put it down, putting a hand on his chin. "I would advise you, Milady, to attend the Priests of the Light."

Val was already shaking her head. "No, I don't need the Light, it's a few broken bones, nothing life threatening. I'll have a regular old medic patch me up, just as I always have." She argued, and after a few seconds of staring one another down, he apparently conceded, rapidly speaking to one of the priestesses at the cot next to them and turning back to Val.

"You understand that you will be unable to use your arm for exponentially longer than is necessary?" He cautioned, and Val gave him a sure nod.

"It's better that, than risking one of my men dying because I was hogging a priest." Even she was surprised at how mature her line of reasoning was, and earned a smile of respect for it from the elder man.

"Very well. With your permission, I would like to remove your armour down to your tunic and trousers."

She gave a feeble nod, leaning her head back onto the soft silk behind her and lamely lifting her good arm for him to start with her gauntlet.

"I don't suppose you've heard anything of the Malik?" She asked the Priest as he begun his work, and as she had expected, he shook his head.

"Not as yet."

Val's eyebrow rose. "You speak very good Common," she noted, and received a wry smile.

"Common speakers are too lazy to learn Samark, so it became necessary for us to learn Common instead." Val couldn't help laughing despite how much it made her torso hurt.

"Lady Glenmore!"

Val recognised the voice calling her from across the room, and raised an arm in a meager greeting to her chamberlain, who had to stop himself before he simply ran to her.

"It gladdens my heart thoroughly to see you safe and we- sweet Light, what is that smell?"

Val snorted. "San'layn blood, abomination guts and maybe a val'kyr or two," she quipped, patting the seat next to her. "Any word on Varian?"

Lee sat down with a less than promising look. "No…not yet, Milady. But that's not to say we won't, we just haven't….yet."

She could forgive his rambling on any other day, but after what she had just witnessed, concrete confirmation was all that was on her mind.

"Milady, this is Naseem. She will tend to you until I return," The High Priest informed her, and Val could completely understand; there were people beyond the screen crying for his help, and she wasn't about to stop him fulfilling his purpose.

"Very well," she quietly muttered, giving the young girl a smile. She didn't look much older than Val, in fact she was probably more Lee's age, but somehow she had the touch of someone alot more mature. She cast her dark eyes on Lee, pointing to Val's arm.

"Lift, please? Shoulder armour, off."

Her Common was barely intelligible compared to the High Priest's, but Lee managed to get the gist, apologising to Val all the while.

She only exhaled when the limb was put down again, and leant forward to let the chamberlain undo her cuirass.

"What happened up there, Milady? Was it as bad as we all thought?" Lee asked, and all Val could do was grimace as she thought about everything she'd seen in the past day.

"It was like a hive, a twisted, putrid hive of things that should never have existed," she spat, stiffening as Naseem peeled the plate from her chest like she was opening an oyster.

"At least it's all over now." It wasn't much of a comfort, but it was all Lee had to give her, and she appreciated it.

"Aye, it's all over," she murmured, feeling her exhaustion start to catch up with her. She closed her eyes as the priestess begun strapping her arm, winding strips of linen dipped in a thick white paste around both the limb itself and a splint that Lee was dutifully holding in place.

"I think I need a bath after this," she mused, and the groom couldn't help but chuckle.

"I rather think it'll take two or three to make you look like a normal human again, Milady," he teased.

Val's laugh caught in her throat and it turned into a loud curse as Naseem's lithe fingertips prodded a rather swollen part of her arm. The priestess immediately apologised, and Val accepted it just as quickly.

"Bone need to move. Will hurt, Milady."

Val realised after a few seconds of being stared at by the young girl that she was waiting for her permission, so she gave her a hasty nod. "Yes, yes, do it. I have a million and one things to do, so get it done as quickly as you can."

She was sure that she hadn't understood anything past 'yes', but it was more for Lee's benefit.

The groom's brows drew in. "Milady, no one will expect you to get on with matters straight after coming back from a large assault. Take a few hours to get some sleep, at least," he suggested, but the steely gaze her eyes told him that it hadn't worked.

"All the while Varian's not here, it falls to me to make sure everyone knows what they're doing, and I intend to do just that. I need to keep busy, Lee, it takes my mind off of…"

she trailed off, and Lee's concern rose. "Milady?"

She cleared her throat, turning her head away to stare blankly ahead. "It doesn't matter."

He would've questioned her further, for it clearly did matter, but Naseem had ruined all chances of that with the push she gave to the skin on Val's forearm, making his mistress roar through her gritted teeth until it was done.

"Please tell me you're almost finished?" she all but begged, but not for the reason Lee was probably assuming, which was the pain of it all; no, she wanted to get out of this tent and find out what the hells the phenomena she'd seen at Icecrown had been, and more importantly, what it meant.

It had been occupying her thoughts since she'd been dragged onto the gunship, and the only logical conclusion she'd managed to come to had been the one she'd feared most. Varian was dead, and the Lich King had won.

That amount of power couldn't have been anything but deadly to all those up there, and she'd have to go home and tell their son that not only had he lost his brother, but his father wasn't coming home either.

The dread she felt about going back to Anduin alone made her chest start to fold in on itself, negating the pain of her bones being shifted and wrapped. Lee noticed her eyes filling with tears and felt a cold slither of apprehension creep up his spine.

"Milady, why do you cry? What is it?"

Val stayed silent, watching the priestess' hands until they had finally finished their work, resting her arm across her chest and securing it there with a linen sling.

"Do not move, six weeks. More injuries?"

Val shook her head even though it was a colossal lie; she was sure she could still feel blood trickling from her chin, but there was so much of the stuff coating her that it'd be impossible to tell for sure.

"No, that will be all. See to Prince Adil, and thank you."

She stood up, waving a hand over her armour. "Lee, take that to mine and Varian's quarters, will you? I'll clean it later," she commanded, but for once, he didn't obey, rather he followed her as she hurried from the tent, only just managing to keep pace with her.

"Milady- Mil- Val,please, stop," he implored her, and to her credit, she did it rather abruptly.

"You've never called me 'Val' before."

He finally caught up, panting a little too much for his own liking. "Apologies, but you were going so fast…"

Val sighed, pointing north-west to the blurry shadow of the looming citadel. "Did you see the blue cloud that came from the top of the spire about twenty minutes ago?" she asked with a sadness to her voice, and Lee had to take a minute to recollect whether he had or not.

Alot had been going on at camp whilst the actual soldiers had been gone, so it was all rather a blur to him. "I think so, yes. We heard what we all thought was a thunderstorm, I remember that much."

He saw the look on her face as she stared at the construct, and it filled him with apprehension that he just couldn't shake. "Why? What actually happened, Milady?"

She looked around them, noticing how everyone was beginning to stare and feeling rather foolish. Val held his shoulder, steering him to one of the towers leading to the ramparts, leaning her tired, aching body back against the cold stone and finding it actually helped.

"I'm not even sure myself. We were just getting on the gunship when it happened, but from what Adil and I saw…it was like a tornado, but it was filled with what we could swear were fucking ghosts."

Her free hand was beginning to shake, and she wished to high heaven that she had her cigarette case on her.

"Ghosts, Milady? Are you sure?" Lee tentatively asked, and she gave him a nod that even she wasn't convinced by.

"It was horrible, truly horrible. There were these wails…wails of pain, of torture, and a cold that we just couldn't get warm from. But the worst part was the silence after."

She swallowed, running her hand down her face and merely smearing the blood that was beginning to dry. "I'm convinced something bad happened up there, Lee. Something Varian might not be coming back from."

Lee carefully reached out and curled his hand around her shoulder. "You mustn't think the worst, Milady."

Val was finding it rather difficult not to do exactly that. "Then why haven't they come back yet? It happened just as my troop were leaving, surely Varian and the others shouldn't have been that far behind?"

Lee's hand tightened, giving her shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "I'm sure His Majesty has his reasons, Milady."

She didn't answer him, and the silence was as thick as butter. "Let me take you back to your chambers, Milady. We'll get you cleaned up, have the rest of your wounds seen to, and by the time we're done, we'll probably have received word of His Majesty," he recommended, and her brows drew in.

"Did you honestly just use the same line I give Anduin?"

Lee put his hands behind his back. "I did, but I very much believe it applies well here, Milady,"

He said with the kindest of voices, and Val found herself reconciling to it. "Fine, but we need to make it quick, understand?"

He bowed his head, waiting patiently for her to make the decision to move before him, and dutifully following when she turned on her heel and begun to disappear into the crowd.

It had taken two bars of soap, three tubs of water and about five wash-cloths to finally rid Val of everything she'd been smothered in.

She had started to question whether she should've simply gone down to the lake to wash, but Lee had advised against it, rightly telling her that it wouldn't exactly look good for any soldiers having the same idea to see their future High Queen bare as the day she was born.

She looked up, staring at her now clean face in the looking glass and finding someone completely different to who she'd seen the last time she'd come back from a final battle. The Val of the Second War had still been quite naive to the ways of it all, a novice who needed guidance; this time, she was older, wiser.

Granted, it wasn't by much, but it had been long enough to see the marks of maturity on the face staring back at her. She'd noticed it on Varian over the years, but had never really looked at herself properly to see that she'd gone through the same transformation.

"Copper for them, Milady?" Lee asked from behind her, and she put the towel down on the table sitting under the mirror.

"I'm just thinking about how different things are this time, that's all," she answered honestly, inspecting the black thread that had been put into her bottom jaw.

Lee had called for another medic to come to their chambers as promised, and now Val had an array of bandages and stitches to match her useless arm. If by some miracle Varian had survived, she'd probably kill him of a heart attack once he returned and got a good look at her.

"I do recall it being a lot warmer the last time," he quipped, snickering at Val's raised eyebrow.

"You know damn well what I mean," she said, taking the whiskey he handed her.

"I do, Milady. It's rather enlightening, comparing the two wars, isn't it?"

She wrinkled her nose, taking a few sips. "I wouldn't say I'm comparing the wars as a whole, more where my life is at the end of them."

She huffed in amusement, swirling her glass. "I would never have expected to have my own chambers and a servant this time around."

Lee's lips turned up in a small smile. "It's funny where life takes us, isn't it?"

She raised her glass with a grin. "I'll drink to that any day of the week."

She went quiet again, and of course, he noticed, putting the tunic he'd been laying out on the bed and straightening.

"Don't lose hope, Milady," he beseeched her, and while Val appreciated it as much as she had the numerous times he'd already said it, she couldn't help the feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"It's been too long now, Lee. If we were to hear of them coming back, we would've by now," she finally admitted, snatching her tunic up and scrunching it in her hand. "It pains me that the best scenario will be that he'll simply be dead and left alone; I don't think I'd be able to face it were he risen into undeath like Dranosh was."

The mere thought made a nauseating shiver run down her spine. "Light willing, if that has been his fate, that he still retains his humanity, as Thassarian has. But something tells me that the Lich King won't be that kind," she rambled on, and Lee had to wonder who she was trying to convince, him or herself.

"Indeed, Milady. But let us hope that's not the case." Val appreciated his efforts to steer her from her own frightening thoughts, but it only mildly worked this time.

She untied the knot of her sling, slowly straightening her arm and remembering what the medic had showed her, slipping it into one of the armholes of her tunic until it sat on her shoulder.

Lee offered to help but got a snap of 'I can do it' for his efforts, so he stayed quiet while she put the other arm in and ducked her head into the neck-hole, tugging the bottom hem until it sat nicely on her hips.

"That was quite smooth, Milady."

She huffed in amusement, letting him tie her sling back up so he felt useful. "Now watch me never manage it again," she said, sitting down to put her breeches on as slowly as was humanly possible.

She looked up at him with a stony look."I need to meet the others and decide what to do. Do you have Varian's paperwork?"

Lee nodded, opening a small chest by their bed and handing her a binder he had always wished he'd never have to hand over. It held all instruction on what to do should King Varian fall, and giving it to his wife to carry out weighed heavy on his conscience.

She felt her breath catch in her throat as she took it from him, convincing her that she was about to have another anxiety attack, but strangely it never came. There was just a creeping numbness that started from the middle of her chest and spread like a stain, a stain that would never wash out no matter how much she scrubbed at it.

She found herself staring at the binder like she'd just been handed Varian's head, running her fingertips over the soft leather.

"He's never said a word about what's in here," she said, flicking the pages edges with her thumb but still not opening it. "but then, I doubt I'd want to hear any of it anyway."

Lee's concern was written all over his face. "I can carry this out in your stead, if you'd prefer it, Milady?"

he offered, but as he expected, Val shook her head, reaching over and pulling her boots towards her. "No, thank you, I need to prove to everyone -including myself- that I can lead, and this is the first step towards that."

Surprisingly, the boots were the easiest things to put on with one hand, but she admitted defeat with the straps of her cloak and stood to let Lee take over.

He'd just finished securing the last catch when they both heard the dull roar coming from outside. Val straightened, wondering if she'd imagined it at first, but it slowly became louder and louder until it was practically making her skull vibrate.

"Lee, get my sword," She demanded, and while he carried the order out without question, he did question whyexactly he was doing it.

"Do you anticipate an attack, Milady?"

Val didn't answer straight away, she was listening intently to the growing noise with a furrowed brow. "I'm not sure, and that's what scares me."

But then another noise joined the roar, and Val could swear to high heaven that it was the sound of…

"Cheering?"

She shared a look of pure confusion with Lee and made for the door, throwing it open and wincing as the din grew louder. The light of dawn's approach hurt her tired eyes once they were outside, and an arm thrown in front of them gave her enough clear visibility to see the source of the noise.

The last gunship had finallylanded, and the gangplank lowered, with droves of soldiers belonging to the Alliance, Ebon Blade and Argent Dawn spilling down it.

"Val! Val, over here!"

She heard Arin's crisp Gilnean tone and searched around for the face to go with it, finding him not far from her. She and Lee weaved and squeezed their way through the crowd to reach him.

"Glad to see you're in one piece, Val."

She gave him an affectionate squeeze, wondering if one day someone would snap his skinny frame doing the same thing, and pulled away with a foreboding on her face. "Have the leaders come out yet?"

"No, not yet. We were just coming to get you, as it happens. Lord Muradin went on board ship, I thought maybe you should as well?"

"Would that be allowed, do you think?"

The groom shrugged, folding his hands in front of him. "I don't see why it wouldn't, Milady."

"I know that if it were me, I'd be running on board. Go on, I'll find you later."

Val was torn, they could all see it, and after a few more gentle encouragements, she gave in.

"Lee, get another medic to our chambers and ready some whiskey. Something tells me that Varian will need it," she instructed, giving Arin a guilty glance. "Drinks later?"

Arin nodded at once. "Course! Now go on, we'll save the first tankard for you."

She gave the three of them a shaky smile, turning on her heel and starting to gently nudge her way through the forest of bodies in front of her until a helpful soul shouted 'Make way! Make way for Lady Glenmore!'.

She wasn't exactly sure who'd done it, but it hammered in further how much things had changed since the last war; she'd had her title for only a month or so back then, and nobody really knew who she was.

Now, the crowds were parting for her like the Great Sea, clearing a path for her when really, she hadn't done anything to deserve it. She didn't even really know why she was in such haste to get to the gunship- there was a very real chance she'd get on board and find the same faces that had surrounded her when Elliot had passed; the ones of sympathy, the ones that said 'we're so sorry'.

She hated those faces.

The cold breeze stung her eyes and made them water, giving the illusion of tears. Val cursed under her breath, wiping them with the back of her hand and hoping that not many had seen them moisten.

If they had, they'd assume that she knew something they didn't, that there was no victory to celebrate, that all hope was lost, and that was the last thing she wanted. If Light forbid the Lich King had won, she'd give them all a few hours of jovial ignorance, it was the least they deserved.

It didn't take long to reach the top deck, but before she got to the door separating it from the bowels of the ship, Val stopped, leaning against the polished oak and holding her breath, listening intently.

There were voices; two were definitely Muradin and Magni, she could tell them from a mile away, and there was a softer toned one that sounded like Nizaar, but there seemed to be no sign of the hearty bass she'd been hoping for. She slumped, barely keeping her palm on the handle and pushing down, lamely opening the door and swallowing hard, gearing herself up for the news she'd never wanted to hear.

But it wasn't necessary.

"Sweetheart."

Varian's voice was as full of relief as Val's heart was, and before she knew it, his arms were around her and she finallygave up on trying to be brave. She choked on a harsh sob, curling her good arm around his waist and putting her head on his chest, feeling his kiss on her head.

He lifted her face by cupping both of her cheeks, wiping her reddening eyes with both thumbs. "No tears, Val. All is well, I promise," he whispered soothingly, and all Val could do in response was cry even more without actually meaning to.

"I thought you'd been killed."

Varian's brow furrowed, but he wasn't vexed with her in the slightest. "I take it you saw what happened?"

She nodded, reaching up to simply touch his cheek, convincing herself that he was real, he was here, everything was indeed well. "What the hells was that, Varian? I'm convinced I saw ghosts, but Adil told me I was seeing things-"

"Adil? My son's alive?" Nizaar interrupted, coming to Varian's side. Val nodded, stepping back from the younger king so she could address the both of them, but still holding his hand.

"He is, but…Nizaar, I'm so sorry, we didn't know what else to do; there was a dragon, we only had twenty men…he had to use his magic," she babbled, watching Nizaar's brown skin pale.

"Where is he?"

Val pointed towards the camp. "I left him in with the High Priest. He was getting better when I left, I swear-" Nizaar was already gone, and none of them could blame him.

"It sounds like we've all been through tha wringer," Magni said, sitting on a crate and taking his helm off.

"Aye, but it was worth it," Varian replied, taking Val's other hand and bringing them both to his lips. "We won, Val. The assault was a success."

His blue eyes glittered with an optimism she'd rarely seen in him since the war had started. "We got the bastard."

Val's genuinely ecstatic grin spread across her face, and she thought she was about to vibrate with excitement. "The Lich King?"

Varian nodded with such enthusiasm that it only made Val want to bounce up and down like Anduin did when he was deliriously happy.

"And he's definitely, definitelydead?" she asked cautiously, earning a guffaw from the two dwarves and a more subdued chuckle from Varian.

"Aye, Sweetheart, he's most certainly dead. Those 'ghosts' you saw were his victims dragging him down to the hells below, and that's where he'll damn well stay."

Muradin raised an imaginary tankard. "Ah'll drink to tha!"

Varian clapped his shoulder, leaving a residue on the tunic that the dwarf had changed into and making Val realise that he was in quite a state.

He was nowhere near as filthy as she had been, but his armour was covered with sticky, drying blood, and there was a large gash contributing to it along his whiskered cheek.

"I think we all deserve a drink or two, my friend. We'll go and inform the men of our good fortune just as soon as we're all up to speed," Varian said, turning to Val. "I take it there's a mission report waiting for me later?"

Val crinkled her nose. "I wrote a really rough one out. To be honest, I was a little occupied," she explained, pointing to her sling.

"Aye, I noticed. Broken, or fractured?"

Val grimaced. "Broken. They did offer the Light, but I didn't want to leave Adil."

Varian clearly shared her disdain. "Well, at least we can be thankful that it's not your writing hand. Light knows we're going to have paperwork coming out of our arses for a few weeks."

His brow furrowed further. "How many did you three lose?"

Val went quiet, and Muradin answered for her, running a hand down his face.

"Too bloody many, lad. We were doin' alright till that damn dragon turned up, then tha beast wiped out a good chunk of our boys. We must've only come back with thirty at most," he said solemnly, appreciating the squeeze his brother gave his other shoulder.

"In all fairness, we didnae fair much better," Magni said, and Varian grunted in agreement, turning Val's chin to inspect her stitches.

"I never dreamt I'd be saying this, but the Horde's assistance actually proved a boon this time," he mused, and Val took his hand away with a grimace.

"The Horde's what? You asked for help from the Horde?"

Varian scoffed, folding his arms. "Don't presume that I had any choice in the matter. We were blind-sided by Tirion's last ditch attempts at peace, nothing more. Had I been given leave to, I'd have Hellscream's head in a box," he explained, jabbing a thumb towards the two dwarves behind him.

"You can ask Magni if you don't believe me."

Magni put the pauldron he'd just taken off on the floor, looking up at the sound of his name. "Eh? Oh aye lass, tis true. We'd not been there two minutes afore Varian drew his sword on the cocky shite."

Val's lips twisted into a thin line. "Great, so Muradin and I look like idiots for being the only ones to engage them," she grumbled, but Varian shook his head.

"Not at all. You did what was necessary to get your men safely to the landing zone; it's the Horde's own fault for thinking you'd let them take the assault from us that easily."

Muradin put a hand on his bent knee, knitting his thick brows together."Reckon there'll be any repercussions on our part?" he rather sensibly asked, and once again, Varian shook his head.

"If there were, they'd probably be laughed right out of a courtroom. The list of the Horde's transgressions against us is as long as my leg, they wouldn't dare start a conflict over one 'incident'."

Val breathed a sigh of relief, taking his hand and slipping her fingers in between his simply to feel his touch. After convincing herself she'd lost him, the mere fact that they were standing here talking was enough to make her heart gladden.

"And what of our treaty? Is it still void?" she questioned, and Varian's top lip begun to curl.

"Yes, but that might change soon enough." He squeezed her hand, gently tugging her forward. "But all that can, and will be, discussed later. I think we've left everybody in suspense long enough, don't you?"

She was starting to smile, which was all he ever wanted her to do. He watched her as they descended back down the stairs towards the gangplank, happily chatting with the two dwarves behind them like they hadn't all just come back from what he considered to be the most traumatic battle of his life.

He'd probably never speak of what happened up there with anyone but the woman beside him, and even then it was hard to even contemplate relaying to her the horrors that had taken place. She was in such a good mood, it would be cruel of him to spoil it with tales that would make even the strongest of men shiver in disgust.

So he would leave it for now, and just enjoy knowing that they'd both survived and would go home to their son together, as they'd promised.

"When will we send word to Stormwind?"

She interrupted his thoughts as if she were reading them, looking at him rather expectantly. "As soon as possible, I should think. We'll recall the ground assault in the next hour or so, take register of everyone, and when things calm down we'll send missives to our respective kingdoms," He replied with a lighter tone to his voice, and from behind him Magni chuckled gleefully.

"Little Anduin's face will be a picture. Ah only wish we could see it."

Val laughed in agreement, letting go of Varian's hand and taking his arm instead to balance herself better. "We'll probably be able to hear his screeching from here, let's all be honest," she rightfully pointed out, and Varian wagged a scolding finger at her.

"The boy has every right to be excited, Val. This war had been going on fartoo long. To finally declare it at an end is indeed something to celebrate."

A wry grin was already covering his beloved's face. "It really is over, isn't it?"

Varian gave her the warmest smile he could, holding the hand that was on the crook of his elbow. "It's really over, love."

"Guessin' you'll be dusting off the ol' pipe and slippers when ye get back, Varian?" Magni teased, and Varian merely chuckled in response.

"I've never owned a pipe in my life, unfortunately. But a decent cup of coffee will do me just as well," he cocked an amused eyebrow. "I'm guessing that's your desired plan then?"

Magni chortled, running a hand down his beard. "Too bloody right it is. As soon as these boots touch Dun Morogh soil, ah'm puttin' them up for a day or two."

Varian grunted, glancing down for the millionth time to make sure that he wasn't holding Val's bad arm by mistake.

"I think we'll be lucky even if we get an hour of peace. This war's drained our coffers as well as our sanity, and I can bet my council will be on my arse like a leech when I get back," he bemoaned, and Val's squeeze on his arm only slightly placated him.

"Then you'll just have to play the 'I'm the king' card, won't you? Remember, you're the one in charge, not them."

Varian huffed this time. "I hate playing that card. It makes me seem too entitled."

Exasperation was creeping onto Val's face. "In this particular instance Varian, you areentitled. You have literally just won a war, I'm sure no one will start something over you having a few days to recuperate," she argued, and he could see her logic and was starting to come around to it.

"I suppose it won't hurt," he admitted, and Magni clapped his shoulder.

"The lass is right, Varian. Take some time ta spend with yer boy, lad. He'll be all the happier fer it, and so will ye."

Varian chuckled despite them both essentially ganging up on him. "Alright, alright, you two have made your point," he said with only mild annoyance in his voice; while he dreaded how much work would pile up, he had to confess that it was a deliciously enticing idea, doing nothing but spending time with his wife and son.

Other men were to get that luxury once they were back in Stormwind, so why shouldn't their king?

He'd forgotten all sense of time while he'd been at Icecrown, so the rising sun caught him off guard as it shone into the gunship from the open gangplank, and he found it necessary to shield his eyes with his palm.

"Were we really at battle that long?" he asked no one in particular, and Val took it upon herself to answer him while she slipped her arm from his.

"It felt like five minutes, didn't it?"

He gave another grunt, using the edge of his cloak to wipe his face and make it look somewhat human. "It did indeed. It was over in a flash as fair as we were aware."

That wasn't a complete lie, but it was certainly a twisted truth. The battle at the throne had exhausted everybody in mind and spirit, thus felt a lifetime to all involved.

"Ya got yer speech ready, Varian?" Muradin asked with a smirk pulling at his lips.

Varian blanched, suddenly wishing that Gregor was here. "No, no I have not. I'm sure I can pull something from my backside, don't worry," he tried to assure himself more than them, but Val started snickering anyway.

"Just mention 'glory of the Alliance', 'the day was ours', or 'we have triumphed over evil'. Those three nearly always come up."

Magni laughed in that booming way of his. "Ah, is this wha' the men have been callin', 'speech bingo'?"

Varian's brow shot up. "Speech what?" he asked cautiously.

Val's cheeks were turning scarlet with badly disguised amusement. "It's basically what we do whenever one of you gives us a speech. It's just a bit of fun to get us through them when they go on too long, that's all."

Varian's brow lowered, knitting with the other. "I'm not that repetitive, am I?"

She shook her head, giving him what he supposed was an encouraging smile. "Not at all, but when we've heard the same thing from three different people, it inevitably going to be a bit predictable. It's all in good humour, Varian, don't take it so personally," she said, watching his shoulders square.

"I'm not taking it personally. It just shows me how out of touch with the infantry I am, that's all. The last game I remember being popular was simple dice."

Val stretched onto her toes to plant a quick kiss on his grimy cheek."I'm sure I can bring you up to speed later on, love," she told him, rather innocently, but after a few seconds she realised exactly why Magni was chuckling to himself and felt her ears grow hot.

"You know what I meant," she mumbled miserably, and Varian made it worse by ruffling her hair.

"I did, sweetheart, and greatly appreciate it." She batted his hand away despite his sincerity, feeling the sunlight grow hotter the closer they got and gladly welcoming it.

From the way he closed his eyes and lifted his head, so did Varian, and she had to wonder whether it was the cold Northrend air he was attempting to wash away, or a much deeper cold within himself. It hadn't evaded her notice that he hadn't said a word about the actual battle itself yet, and had to wonder whether it was because he didn't think she could handle the details, or he simply didn't want to relive it.

Either way, she was worried. "I didn't see Jaina in camp," she prodded for all the good it would do, and Varian's frown reappeared.

"She needed time alone. Rest assured, she's fine."

He cleared his throat, giving the soldiers either side of the entrance way a nod and telling Val without a single word that their conversation was over before it'd really begun. She'd been expecting it, of course, but that didn't make her feel any better about it.

They lifted two ornate horns to their lips, making Varian's bad ear ring with the noise as it sailed across the camp, catching the attention of every soldier present. "Soldiers of the Alliance, fall in."

He had convinced himself that nothing could shock him anymore, but the dismal size of the group that obeyed his order made a acidic bile start to churn in the pit of his stomach.

"Is this really how many survived?" he whispered, glancing down at a pale Val.

"It is." Was all she said, and the meekness to her voice made him not want to question it further, at least for now.

His throat had dried, so he swallowed hard to try and get it to work. "I know you're all exhausted and anxious, so I'll make this quick. Every single person in front of me has earned not only the respect of the Alliance, but the gratitude of all those living in Azeroth."

"Exceptin' the Horde, eh Majesty?!" One cocky voice piped up, and Varian found it difficult not to chuckle at the cheer it prompted.

"Damn the Horde!"

"Dirty orcs!"

Varian raised a hand, not really wanting to stand here all day. "Yes, yes, excepting the Horde, of course," he said in agreement, putting his hands behind his back.

"But in terms of the Alliance, your efforts have been recognised, and will continue to be for the rest of your lives. Generations of Azerothians will hear of your bravery and fortitude today. It gladdens my heart to be able to tell you that your efforts have not been in vain."

He turned to the dwarven King standing next to him. "Magni, the hilt, if you'd be so kind."

Val watched as Magni produced something wrapped in a scrap of cloak, passing it to Varian with the widest of smiles. The younger monarch unwrapped it, and Val couldn't help but join the chorus of gasps as he held it aloft.

"This, is the hilt of Frostmourne, the despicable blade that took so many lives. Look upon it as proof- proof that the Lich King's vile reign is over!"

A single beat of silence followed the proclamation before the air was filled with rapturous cheers, ones permeated with relief, sorrow, happiness, every emotion Val could think of was lacing the camp.

"Those who were trapped in this damned blade have been freed, and the Scourge are no longer an immediate threat. I'm confident that we can leave Northrend in the hands of Highlord Fordring and his Paladins."

He handed the hilt back to Magni, raising both hands in triumph with a genuine grin on his face.

"You're all going home!"

There was no beat of silence this time before even louder cheers erupted, with soldiers that were normally known for being so stoic and disciplined jumping up and down, shouting their gratitude to the four leaders standing in front of them.

'For the Alliance!' was a bellow Val must've heard about twenty times in the space of half of a minute, and soon she was joining in with further chants of 'long live King Varian!'.

Varian himself was clearly uncomfortable with the idea; he was never one for receiving what he deemed 'undue praise' at the best of times, but when a crowd was doing it, he would go stiff as a board and quiet as a mouse.

She lightly nudged him in the side, watching him start like he'd just woken from a particularly bad dream. "So take today to eat, drink and be merry. You've all damn well earned it."

The celebrations had started pretty much the second the last troops had arrived back. Val could easily understand the men's eagerness to indulge themselves in mindless frivolity; she sometimes forgot that while she'd gone back to Stormwind a few times during this campaign, some of the soldiers around her had been here for the entire two years.

Musicians aided the proceedings with loud, uplifting songs that some would know every word to, and others would simply mumble their way through.

It didn't matter either way really, for everyone would end up laughing by the end of it, no matter what their talents. As she made her way through the sea of revellers, Val could smell the freshly hunted caribou roasting on a fire pit that had been specially dug, giving the camp a feeling of comfort that it had sorely been lacking.

She embraced Arin again once she found them, finding a cup in her one good hand before she'd even opened her mouth to ask for it.

"I hope you aren't expecting me to drink myself stupid," she told him, giving the beverage a sniff and finding it unfamiliar to her, "I have important Alliance business to attend to later on."

Arin pulled a face that was so identical to the one Minnie pulled when she heard gossip, that it was a little uncanny.

"Oh, hark at you- 'important Alliance business'," he teased. "I didn't know that's what you and Varian were calling it nowadays, I'll give you that."

He leant back to avoid her swat to his arm, laughing like an immature schoolboy.

"Speaking of His Majesty, will he be joining us?"

"No, he's stayed behind with the other leaders to plan out how we're all going home. He said to send his best wishes though."

She lifted her cup, eyeing an already grinning Arin with the utmost suspicion. "What exactly is this, Arin?" she questioned, and the Gilnean shrugged nonchalantly.

"Something called 'tequila'. Johnson brought it back from the Howling Fjord. It ain't bad if you drink it quickly and hold your nose," Arin explained, and Val's grimace only deepened.

"I'll need one of you to do the second one then."

Arin thankfully took the hint, lightly pinching the end while she downed the amber liquid- only to let go when she harshly gagged pretty much the second it hit her throat.

Val had to bend over, truly believing she would be sick where she stood, but to her relief all that followed was a bout of harsh coughing and her eyes watering like nobody's business. "Light, that's disgusting," she bemoaned, slowly straightening and furiously wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I'll admit, I wasn't a fan either," Arin said.

Val could still taste the tequila on her tongue, and reached her good hand out, opening and shutting it like Anduin used to whenever he wanted something. "Gimme something else. I need to wash this down."

She took the tankard Arin passed her, making a show of sniffing it and flashing him a grin when she found it to be plain old beer.

"I still need to write to Gwen, to tell her I'm coming home. It just hasn't quite sunk in yet, after this long," he said, and Val slowly nodded.

"I think everyone's feeling that way. Granted, I haven't been stuck hereas long as you lot, but the weariness this war has brought has resounded throughout the kingdoms." She noticed they were both staring at her.

"So come on Val, when can we stop calling you 'Milady' and start calling you 'Your Majesty'?" he asked out of nowhere, and Val had to physically bite her tongue to stop it flapping.

She remembered just in time that only five people in all of Azeroth knew that she and Varian were already married, and it would only cause a scandal Varian really didn't need if she suddenly revealed it to a camp full of revellers. To those around her at present, she was merely 'Lady Glenmore', not the King's wife, and at least for now, it had to stay that way.

"Arin, weddings take money and time, and right now, Stormwind has neither. Mine and Varian's days will be filled with meetings, paperwork, ceremonies that need to be observed…I don't think we'll have the time or energy for a longwhile yet," she said.

"Yes, but you can't tell me that it hasn't crossed your mind. It's been nearly three years Val, that must be a bit annoying at least."

Val grimaced, tapping the side of her tankard. "It has, but that doesn't mean either of us want to rush into it. His people need him to be a king right now, not my fiancé, that's just the way it is," she explained, "and besides, If I'd lost someone in this war, and then found out not a few weeks later that my king was putting on this massive wedding to fulfill his own needs, I'd be pissed right off."

Arin slowly nodded, but promptly nudged her in the side, poking at a still healing bruise and making her hiss through her teeth. "But if all that didn't matter?"

Val finally allowed herself to laugh, letting it turn into a grin once it died down. "Oh well, then I'd marry him tomorrow," she declared, reaching over and squeezing his knee.

"There, you bloody happy now?" she had to shout, for the music that had suddenly started up out of nowhere drowned out any chance of a normal conversation.

"Course I am! The war's over, the Lich King's dead, and I'm finally going home to my girl!"Arin yelled, rising to his feet and holding out his free hand.

"Fancy a dance with a lowly peasant?"

Val rolled her eyes, taking his hand and letting him pull her up. "I'll have one with my best friend, Arin. Nothing more, nothing less."

Val found out very quickly that she could hold her drink alot better than Arin could; after a few hours and more beer than she could count, it had fallen to her to practically drag the Gilnean back to their tent. Val herself was trudging her way through the mud that stomping feet and enthusiastic dancing had made, scraping the soles of her boots on the stone floor once she got back to the Keep itself.

She'd crossed the camp twice already; she'd initially ventured to the Leader's Tent to find Varian and get him involved in the celebrations, but a concerned Magni had told her that the King of Stormwind had left an hour before.

She couldn't remember seeing him in the crowd, so after a brief moment of personal deduction, she realised he must've come back to their chambers, slipping by quickly like a fox not wanting to be seen.

The guards weren't there, which made her wonder if she'd been wrong, but a small smash and angry 'damn it' from beyond the door put a small, but sad, smile on her face. She knew it was silly, but she knocked the door, leaning against it.

"Who's there?" Varian barked, and she put her mouth against the wood like it would make her voice louder.

"It's only me. Is it safe to enter?" she asked with just a hint of a smile on her face. He of course gave her permission and she had to blink a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room once inside. She found Varian sitting by the fire, the only light in the room, staring reproachfully and tapping the bottom of his glass against the arm of his chair.

"Magni said you disappeared?" she asked quietly, gauging his mood within a matter of seconds and adjusting herself to it.

He grunted, taking another long sip of whiskey. "I wasn't in the mood for a party," he grumbled, watching as she dragged another chair from their table until she was sitting next to him.

"You seemed to have enjoyed yourself," he observed, looking her up and down. Val shrugged, pulling the top of her sling back onto her shoulder.

"I'll admit, it was nice to just forget about everything for a while," she said, and all she received for it was an angry huff.

"I almost wish I had that luxury," he grumbled, leaning forward to refill his glass.

He shook the decanter with a glance over at her, pouring another crystal tumbler when she nodded. "You could still join the festivities. Something tells me they'll be going on for a long while yet."

He silently sipped his drink. "Why, when all I'll do is remember anyway? I'll only make everyone else miserable, there's no point," Varian insisted, scratching at the new scar that lay perfectly along his cheekbone. It was alot smaller than the one across his nose, but the puckered, red skin around it still looked as brutal.

"Remember what?" The faint lines on Varian's forehead deepened with his grimace.

"What do you think? Come now Val, I know you're not that naive." He paused, sighing from deep within his chest.

"Despite what he's done, despite how many times I've tried to tell myself 'it's not him, it's the Lich King'…it doesn't change the fact that I've just partaken in the murder of someone I called brother in all but blood."

Val said nothing, not at first anyway; she merely reached over for his hand and took it, squeezing his fingers to let him know she was there, and she was listening. The large digits curled around hers and he found himself unable to even look at her.

"What happened up there, Varian?" she finally asked him, and while his grimace relaxed, there was still a blanket of sadness on his face.

"Too damn much, that's what," he unhelpfully replied, glancing over and finding her dissatisfied look.

He sat straighter, draining his drink and staring into the bottom of the glass. "It can't leave this room, understand?"

She nodded of course, leaning over so she was closer to him. "I won't tell a soul."

He put his glass on the table, putting the back of his head on the chair. "It's not as if anyone would believe us anyway, I suppose," he mumbled, "I won't bore you with the details of the actual fight, It was all rather standard. It all went to hells just before we managed to deal the killing blow."

Val's brows drew together. "What went wrong?"

Varian's jaw set. "He killed us, that's what fucking happened. One wave of his hand and whatever disgusting magic that sword had given him took the life right out of us," he spat, but his malice wasn't towards Val, and she knew that. But that didn't make hearing what he'd told her any easier, and her hand slipped from his, with a matching look of horror on her face.

"You…you died? Varian-"

He gently shushed her, taking her hand back into his and lightly kissing it. "Hush love, all is well, just as I said. Tirion proved to me that the Light is good for something, and brought us back within a minute." His comforting words weren't really doing much, he could see it on her paled face.

"I can't begin to imagine what that was like," she whispered, and his grip on her hand tightened as if it were his way of telling her that he was alive, he was well, and there was no need for the tears pooling in her eyes.

"I won't tell you if it'll distress you, Val. I'd rather we end this conversation here."

She took a short time to gather herself, shaking her head once she had. "No, go on. You're here, so it can't distress me that much."

He didn't believe her, he could see it on her face, but he'd be lying to himself if he said he didn't want to get this off his chest.

"Do you remember when we were children, and we were fed those stories about a white light, a sense of peace, things like that?" he asked solemnly, getting a nod in response, "well I'm sorry to say, Sweetheart, but that was all lies. There's just nothing. I felt my last breath, saw the world for what I presumed to be the last time, then…nothing. An overwhelming darkness was all that I was given in reward for a lifetime of service."

He started to scowl, facing the fire again. "But then again, maybe that was the damn sword. I'm not sure whether Arthas intended to trap us in that thing straight away, but I could hear his voice like an earwig had crawled into my head."

His free fist clenched and relaxed, and she could see his jaw tightening. "It kept taunting me, haranguing me with what he would do to both you and Anduin. I must've only been in purgatory a mere minute or so, but it felt like an age," he said, feeling her fingers once again slip from his, and strangely appreciated the space she was giving him, whilst at the same time wanting her as close to him as humanly possible.

"It got to me, Val, I can't lie to you. It nearly broke me, seeing what would befall my family. I felt so selfish, only caring about two people out of the millions he'd inflict the same pain onto, but that was all I could think about."

Val didn't say anything straight away. She poured them both another drink in silence, making Varian realise that during his ramblings his glass had emptied, and the only noise for a good while was the crackles of the fire.

"Did it hurt?" she asked rather dumbly, not quite knowing what to do with the information that her husband haddied on the battlefield, and she hadn't even known about it.

Granted, he seemed in-tact and well within his sensibilities, so the resurrection clearly hadn't done anything untoward, but the mere fact that he'd essentially come back from the deadwhen they'd been battling others that had done the exact same thing was alot to take in.

"Not for long. There was just…a sort of 'burning' I suppose, then, nothing."

He paused, wondering exactly how to put this without terrifying her. "It was the 'nothing' part that felt the worst. It were as if I had a pillow being held over my face, and no matter how hard I flailed, I couldn't get it off."

Val wished she'd never asked. But somewhere deep down, she knew that he needed her to ask just so he had a chance to unburden himself of it all.

"How do you feel now?" Val asked out of genuine concern.

"In terms of any physical malady? Absolutely fine. But you know me Val…the rest will take time, as it always does."

She put a wobbly smile on her face, lifting her backside so she could search for her cigarette case in the pockets of her breeches.

"If it helps, I don't think any of us will be forgetting the last day or so in a hurry," she said, and Varian's lips thinned.

"Yes, I read your report," he confessed, "I would never have dreamt that the Lich King's forces would include…how was it you put it? 'Blood sucking elvish fops'? "

Val couldn't stop her chuckle before it left her lips, finally finding the silver case and trying to remember how to open it with one thumb. "I was in a rush when I wrote that, alright? The sad thing is, I wasn't even stretching the truth that far."

Varian ended up opening it for her, which she was grateful for, but he received a glare for his offer to light it. "Oh I'm sure you weren't. Elves have always been more concerned with appearance, rather than substance."

Val's brow creased. "The princes weren't that much of a threat, it was when we reached the queen that everything went tits up. I have no idea how the hells Arthas gave her the power she had, but she took out half my troop before I'd even drew my sword," she all but whispered, and Varian held his hand out, taking the narcotic from her and taking his own drag.

"Considering it was your first time leading an entire troop Val, you did exceptionally well. There are few that could've done anything differently under the circumstances you were in," he consoled, passing it back.

She apparently disagreed with his assessment. "We were caught off guard far too many times throughout the whole thing. I knew we were pretty much going in blind already, but Light, it was a disaster," she huffed, using her empty glass as a makeshift ashtray. "Especially when that damn dragon turned up."

Varian noticed her start to curl in on herself like a scared hedgehog. "It brought back a few bloody memories, I can tell you that."

His palm felt large and heavy as it pressed on her back, rubbing it as if she were a child who'd run to her parent looking for comfort after a nightmare. She welcomed it this time, needing the warmth his skin brought to counteract the chill that had run down her spine.

"Then we'll speak no more of it, if that's what you want."

She straightened with relief in her eyes. "The battle is done. We survived, and would be disrespecting those who didn't if we sat here lamenting our own suffering, when we're going home, and they're not."

Varian's hand left her back, and the corners of his mouth started to curl upwards. "Wise words," he said, pouring himself another glass just to finish the bottle off, "and ones that ring rather true."

There was a weariness to his smile. "Apologies for the theatrics on my part. I think you of all people know my need for solitude sometimes."

She waved a hand of dismissal, clearly not as annoyed as he had anticipated her to be. "It's no bother. I think we're in the small minority that doesn't have the need to drink our livers to death tonight."

Varian's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Says the woman who's just emptied a bottle of whiskey with me."

Her nose wrinkled as she pulled her sling down and scratched the angry rash the linen had left on her shoulder. "That's different; I'd much rather be sharing a single bottle with my husband and have a human conversation, then be mobbed by a group of drunken soldiers chanting 'down in one' over and over," she retorted, watching him as he pushed himself from his chair and crossed the room.

"Then I suppose you wouldn't be tempted to mix whiskey and wine?" he asked, hearing the scrape of her chair behind him and eventually feeling her kiss upon his arm.

"Only if you'll be alright putting up with my antics."

He took the bottle from the table, pulling the cork and throwing it towards the waste bin, missing by a few inches. "I've been putting up with your 'antics' for years, both sober and drunk."

She thanked him for the new glass he gave her, leaving her cigarette to burn itself out in the one she'd previously used. "You're the one producing alcohol out of thin air Varian, so which one do you want to be, the pot or the kettle?"

She took a sip, finding it to be the velvety Harishan red that she had grown a fondness for.

"It's not out of 'thin air', it's all that was left over from dinner. You should've seen the stockpile Magni took- I think it's enough to keep every dwarf in Dun Morogh in good humour for a year," he said matter-of-factly, as if that made the fact that he had a 'stash' at all seem any less seedy.

He begrudgingly left the spontaneous embrace they'd latched themselves into, putting his glass down and yanking both chairs back, leaving merely the wolf skin rug in front of the hearth.

She offered to help as he then took the pillows from the bed and threw them onto the pelt, but was refused, with Varian claiming it was 'a two armed job', so she patiently waited until he'd sat with both legs open, patting the spot in front of him and kissing her head once she was nestled there.

A comfortable silence fell over the pair as they sipped their wine and simply enjoyed being together when -for the both of them- it had seemed like that wasn't ever likely again.

"Have you sent a messenger to Stormwind yet?" Val asked, craning her head back so she could see him. Varian nodded, wiping the corners of his mouth with a thumb.

"Aye, not two hours ago. Their reply was rather standard; 'We're so glad to hear of Your Majesty's good fortune', 'His Gracious Majesty should be commended on your leadership'. 'We eagerly await Your Majesty's return'," he grunted, taking a rather long gulp this time.

"What about Anduin? Did we get anything from him?"

Varian glumly shook his head. "Not a damn thing, except reassurance that they've told him."

While she shared his disappointment, Val wasn't as outwardly vexed about it as Varian clearly was.

"He might just be asleep," she calmly suggested, gently raking her nails down his forearm.

He hated how easily the gesture made him shiver, but he honestly couldn't help it; even with just one hand doing it, it felt as divine as it always did simply because it was her. If any other woman attempted to pacify him in such a way it wouldn't have worked, it had to be her.

"Either that or he's launched himself through the roof and they just don't want to tell us," she said with a chuckle.

Varian moved her hair so it sat behind her shoulder, planting as tender a kiss as a man with his temperament could muster just below her ear. "That's a distinct possibility. Although, he might just be horribly distracted by his cousins. I doubt he'll even notice we're back," he said, nuzzling the curve of her throat.

Val licked her lips after sipping her wine, putting her head back and closing her eyes.

"Bold of you to assume that your Court isn't planning to greet us with an over the top spectacle that'll probably be heard from Kalimdor," she teased, feeling his angered huff warm her shoulder.

"I suppose it was a little optimistic to presume that we could slip back quietly." She kissed his cheek, pulling his arms tighter around her waist.

"Exceptionally optimistic, I'd say," she agreed, finishing her wine in a couple of fair sized gulps.

"Just grin, wave and nod whenever is appropriate, then we can spend every day in our own beds, with our son within arms reach, and more than three hours of sunlight."

Varian's laugh echoed through the chamber, and he sloppily poured her another glass. "Sounds like absolute bliss to me."

He lifted his and they clinked them together, spilling a few drops onto the floor and really not caring.

"To no more Scourge, and a bit of damn peace."

The Alliance were in Northrend's cold climes another ten days before they gained Varian's permission to board the ships lining Valiance Keep's port.

He and the other leaders had rightfully kept them back in case of further Scourge attacks, but after a week had come and gone with no sign of them, they'd agreed to make good on their promise and give the order to move out.

The men's eagerness to go home was evident in just how quickly the camp was packed up; within two days of Varian giving the go ahead, Wintergarde Keep stood as empty as it had when they'd arrived.

Tirion, Mograine, and the soldiers of the Ashen Verdict had volunteered to stay behind and permanentlykeep watch over what Scourge were left.

Varian had argued the plan relentlessly until he realised why they were doing it; although acceptance of the Death Knights was steadily spreading, there were still those who openly abused them simply because they thought they could.

So this gave them not just a purpose, but their own peace.

The King of Stormwind had to admit that he was rather relieved to know that Northrend wasn't going to be completely unguarded.

He'd offered a small force to stay at Wintergarde, but it had been thoroughly rejected, with Tirion insisting that if the Alliance were needed, a message would be sent in good time.

So Varian had conceded, finally joining Val and the others and boarding one of the grander ships of the fleet, homeward bound and victorious for the second time in his life.