Anduin had prepared himself mentally for the possibility of death before going out to meet her. He wasn't afraid of it, but he would've been disappointed to die without having done anything to protect his people.

So when she loosed the arrow, he didn't blink. He knew that his only chance to achieve something here was to affect complete confidence. He'd die confidently if he had to.

In that split second, he met the red glow of her eyes. Then, he felt the rush of air by his side as the projectile hurtled past. Seconds later came the feeling of a sting on the side of his neck, but a quick magical inquiry told him it was no more than a papercut.

She raised her eyebrows at him and he mirrored her expression in response. At this distance, there was no chance that one of Azeroth's most fabled archers had missed. He let out a quiet breath: she'd hear him out, at least.

A new arrow was already knocked in place (he didn't notice how it got there), but she lowered her bow slowly.

"Oops," she finally spoke, the reverberation of her voice both playful and condescending. Their eyes were still locked and she grinned at him. "It appears that you get to live after all, little lion."

"Thank you, Sylvanas." She gave him a strange look when he said her name, but he took her words as a permission to lower his hands and approach her slowly.

He couldn't help but observe her as he came near. Despite his young age, Anduin had met many of those whose names were known to all in Azeroth. Tyrande Whisperwind. Baine Bloodhoof. Jaina Proudmoore. Thrall. His own father at that.

But as he looked at Sylvanas Windrunner standing just a few yards away from him, he came to the realization that she was unlike anyone in Azeroth.

She was mesmerizing. Bewitching, even.

The top of her face was hidden in the shadows of her Dark Ranger's cowl and from there emanated the menacing red glow of her eyes that seemed to pierce through him and look straight into his soul. Her armor, her cloak, even her lipstick were a dark purple bordering on black, as if she was cloaked in shadow, but they contrasted so vividly with the deathly pallor of her skin that they pulled his attention almost by force to her body.

And she was stunningly beautiful, even by elven standards. His eyes slid over the soft jawline converging on a small chin to form an elegant "V", high cheekbones, a dainty nose, full lips, and skin smooth and unblemished. Her body was lithe and instead of hiding her pale skin under her armor, she exposed it in all the right places, sometimes at the cost of proper protection. In fact, her whole armor seemed to be making more of a statement than actually offering protection, the sharp protruding edges as likely to cut her when she moved as they were to cut her opponents if she didn't have grace so common amongst her race.

She was lethal, every slight movement an unspoken threat, every muscle taught like a cat that was about to spring as she held her bow half-drawn. He knew the rumors: that some of the strongest warriors of the Horde tried to draw that bow and could barely budge the string, but he'd seen Sylvanas hit three targets from it in the time it took him to blink.

She inspired equal parts desire and fear, as if issuing a challenge: seducing him to come closer, yet menacing to the point of sending a chill down his spine. "Come claim me - if you dare," her whole being sang.

It was how she roused the fear in her enemies, devotion and loyalty in her own people, and pure hatred from those who knew themselves to be too cowardly to meet her challenge.

Anduin gulped as he realized that speaking with her one-on-one would be far more difficult than he had imagined. But the fate of the entire world was at stake and it was too late to chicken out at any rate. He steeled himself and met the intense glow of her eyes.

"I apologize for intruding upon you like this, Dark Lady," he said. Adapting the familiar polite veneer of a politician that he'd been trained in from birth with now came in very handy in steadying his voice. "I wanted to discuss a matter privately - a matter that could not be addressed by an emissary, only by the two of us."

She tilted her head and he felt an urge to conjure a shield as she analyzed him. "You have risked a lot to discuss this matter," she finally replied, the otherworldy echo of her voice eerie and unsettling. "I am expecting it to be at least mildly amusing, so I will indulge you. Speak." She sounded bored, but the intense glow of her eyes was focused entirely on him and her tall elven ears stood taut like spears.

The bow and arrow in her hands were more relaxed now, but it would only take her a half-second to shoot it. Anduin cleared his throat.

"I've come with a proposal that could end this war," he told her.

"Have you come to surrender?"

"No."

Sylvanas scoffed. "Then you are wasting my time, boy king. And yours. Do you not see that the Horde is but a few steps from Darnassus? That we will soon have complete control of azerite? We have your Alliance running - there is nothing you can offer me that would induce me to cease the fighting now."

"I won't deny that you currently hold an advantage. But the Alliance ships that I just left are about to make landfall and once they do, that advantage may dissipate." The lie came out confidently, without any of his usual tells. He mentally thanked the Light for giving him strength - and Valeera for making him practice.

Sylvanas's eyes flared briefly. "Your reinforcements will only delay the inevitable. What, you expect to be able to push back the entire Horde with that army of yours?"

"No, of course not. But significantly delaying the inevitable, as you put it, is within our capacity." She was about to say something, but he hurried on to make his point, "Oh I have no doubts that you have the patience. You immortals are not so restless as us humans. But the delay won't just be a matter of time. It'll also be a matter of lives. Lives of my people, definitely, but also those of yours… and your Val'kyr. I recall that you've already lost one in this war. How many more can you afford to lose?"

Her hand was at his throat faster than he could blink, slamming him into a nearby tree with inhuman force, knocking the wind out of him, and stunning him for a brief moment.

"Is this what you came here to do?" she hissed, her voice suddenly cold and deadly serious. The hand at his throat was cold as well. He struggled for breath. "To threaten me? You're even more of a fool than I thought, boy."

Anduin could feel his rapid heartbeat under her fingers as they dug into his neck forcefully. The red glow of her eyes was mere inches from his now, her elegant features contorted into a terrifying frown. He could feel the Light bubbling up inside him as his self-defense instinct kicked in, but he tried to stay calm and reigned it in, raising his hands in surrender instead.

"I meant no threat," he croaked, and she slackened her grip just enough for him to be able to speak. "This war is bad for both our peoples. That's why I've come to propose peace."

Sylvanas stepped away from him as suddenly as she attacked him a few seconds earlier, the flare of her eyes and the grimace on her face fading rapidly. It seemed as if she was almost uncomfortable at his closeness. She squeezed and relaxed the fist of the hand she held him with a few times. "I will sacrifice what I must to protect my people," she said quietly, without the same venom as before. "The war will be won, and then we will talk terms."

Anduin resisted rubbing his throat, which felt sore now. Was this all a fool's errand? He was starting to feel pessimistic about his childish attempt at diplomacy. No. I must try, at the very least.

"What if I brought you terms now that gave you everything you wanted, including the protection of your people, without the need for more bloodshed?"

She snorted derisively. "What, more promises and guarantees? I would not trust the Alliance as far as I could spit - if I could spit. I will have none from you, not until I have leverage to ensure they are kept."

Well, here comes nothing. Anduin shook off the memory of a cold hand pressing on his neck, squared his shoulders, and met her eyes once again.

"I was thinking of something more iron-clad than a promise, Sylvanas."

She frowned at him questioningly.

"How would you like to be the Queen of Stormwind?"