**Author’s Note!!** It’s been awhile since I updated, but here ya go! ^_^ (Finally!) The delay was caused by a dying of my compy, which discouraged me because half a new chapter (which is now this one) had been lost, and that depressed me. >_< I’ve garnered a few fans of this story for which I am insanely proud of and flattered by; thanks to everyone who has supported me and my writing! Now start reading!!
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“You are dismissed, Anaya. Don’t make me tell you a second time.” Illidan chuckled as he watched Maiev’s hand grow as tight as her voice on the handle of her weapon.
“I’m going to Shan’do, and if you are lying, I will make sure I am the one to enforce your punishment!” Anaya puffed haughtily as she turned and fled out the cavern mouth.
Maiev stared at the other warden’s back unless she disappeared from sight, then whirled at Illidan, green fire in her eyes. “And you! Wipe that disgusting little grin from your face!”
Illidan fought to regain a straight face, straightening his back as he tried to keep from looking at her legs. “Yes, Warden Shadowsong,” he said clearly, strangling the humorous note in his voice.
She Blinked into his enclosure and placed herself artfully on his lap. “I told you to get rid of that ridiculous smirk, Betrayer,” she murmured in his ear, lightly stroking his neck with her forefinger. He heard a muttered whisper and found his bonds again on the stone floor. Where they should be, he thought with satisfaction.
A sudden slap on his cheek distracted him from the smooth flesh rubbing his torso. “What the hell was that for?!,” he snarled in her face, taking her shoulders with his hands.
“I was gone for, what, two days? Three? And you’re already out of line.” She arched an eyebrow.
“We’re alone now, you know?” he whispered, one hand moving to caress the silky hair at the base of her neck.
“That doesn’t mean I’m not still the boss.” She grinned at him and winked before Blinking back outside of his cell. “I’m in charge and you must listen to me. Always has been that way, why would it change now? You think a little discipline from your brother would make me soft? Look at you, supposedly suffering through a sentence your brother slapped upon you.” She licked one of her fingers and itched her chin. “You’re still my happy little prisoner, Illidan.”
He grumbled but still could not keep the smile from his face. “And you’re still my favorite psychopathic warden wench.” His face suddenly softened as he attempted to pout. “I’m hungry, Maiev.”
She smiled sweetly at him. “Didn’t someone say you weren’t getting your next three meals? Or was it five? I can’t quite remember, though I could clearly hear Mistress Felgrove’s obnoxious voice all the way above ground.”
“That was her decree, not yours! And you know I don’t deserve that!” Illidan complained.
“You are a prisoner, Illidan. Perhaps I should start treating you like one,” Maiev replied thoughtfully, chewing her lip. She turned away and trotted off to her chamber.
Illidan stared after her, his mouth open, aghast. What was she talking about? She sounded like the old Maiev, when he had first been thrown down here. And that was certainly a very unpleasant thought. He buried his face in his hands. Maiev was not a bad Watcher, as he assumed Anaya would have been, but she could be cruel. And teasing. He wouldn’t be able to stand the teasing, especially if she didn’t let him touch her when her thighs were bare.
“Illidan.” His head snapped up at the sound of Maiev’s voice. She stood in the entranceway of her apartment, hands on hips. “You didn’t think I was serious, did you?” The look of absolute horror on his face made her burst into laughter. “You’re such a rockhead, honestly. Give me about ten more minutes and I’ll come eat with you.” She flashed him a bright but moderately frightening smile as she disappeared again.
Illidan slowly let out a breath and frowned. Despicable woman. He shook his head and sniffed the air while waiting for his dinner and company.
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“You did the right thing, Furion.”
Malfurion basked in the praising smile his beloved Tyrande blessed upon him, appreciative for every kind word she spoke. “I only hope you are right, love.” He sighed. They are the strangest pair I have ever seen. Conceived of, even.” He shook his head.
“Although that is true, they are not the subject we should be speaking about right now.” Tyrande’s voice tightened. “Are you sure this is the right choice? I trust Ysera and the assistance in dire times would be extremely helpful, but Furion... How long?” She took his hand gently.
“A long time,” he sighed heavily, enjoying her soft touch. “Will you be alright?”
“The women and I will uphold our civilization as well as we can. There is no doubt there.” Her gaze faltered. “Yet I know it will be no easy task without my lover by my side.”
He rose and gathered her to his chest, holding her tightly. “I will think of you every moment while I am wandering this new world. There will never be a second when you are not in my mind.” He chuckled. “Perhaps Ysera will allow me to visit you when you are asleep and dreaming.”
“I would like that very much.” Furion felt a drop of moisture hit his bare chest. He held her even tighter and stroked her hair. “It is done then. I will go gather the druids and we will begin our long journey.” He placed a loving finger on her cheek, attempting to wipe it dry. “I love you, Tyrande. May Elune protect you and your sisters in our absence.”
“And may she guide you as you wander through the dream realm.” Tyrande tilted her chin up; their lips met and they shared a long, tender kiss.
“Goodbye, my love,” Furion whispered. He turned and left the temple, not looking back.
Tyrande stared after him for a moment before realizing she had to make the announcement of the druids’ leaving to the women. “Goodbye,” she choked, though knowing Furion would not hear her soft voice at his growing distance. She wiped her face, intent on regaining her composure, and strode out to call all the women together.
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“What’s it called again?” Illidan mumbled, trying to keep bits of roast rabbit from flying out of his mouth.
Maiev glowered at him as she chewed delicately and swallowed before answering. “Emerald something or together. Some sort of dream realm Ysera governs.”
He wiped his mouth with his arm. “And why are they doing this again?”
She glared at him and sighed. “You already asked me this. Don’t you ever listen, Illidan? I don’t know why they’re going. Some deal your brother and Ysera made up. In exchange for looking over the land, the druids would go and walk around in her little realm.” She held up her hand as he attempted to speak again. “I know you think it’s foolish. I do, too. All the women have been left behind to fend for themselves.” She snorted. “As much as I have been pushing for more female voice in night elf politics, this is ridiculous. Although I can’t say I don’t think our society will improve with you-“ She paused, eyeing him as he viciously tore off another chunk of meat and began chewing it loudly. “With you wonderfully competent men gone.” She smiled bittersweetly.
“Feminist,” he chuckled before washing down the meat with a large gulp of water.
“You probably don’t even know what that word means,” she sniffed. “Since it is rather new and you are a male-“
“I’m not that ignorant, silly woman,” he interrupted, laughing. He felt a fist connect hard with his shoulder. He winced. “What was that for? You’re not supposed to abuse your prisoners!”
“Smartass,” she muttered and continued with her meal.
“So, how long will they be gone for?” Illidan went on without pause.
She sighed, frustrated. “Elune forbid you’re ever required to remember information, Illidan. I don’t know how long they’ll be gone for. Hundreds of years? Maybe more? In any case, it’s not going to be a short little vacation. For some reason, Ysera seems convinced that her end of the deal is worth that much.”
“Dragons are rather proud and think highly of themselves.” He shrugged. “Granted, they are almost omnipotent, thanks to the Titans, but really, thousands of years? Although we are also timeless and immortal, we have a few more earthly responsibilities than can’t be taken care of far from where they are. Which is here.”
“I guess it’s a good thing we women are capable of handling ourselves without you men around trying to do everything for us. No wonder our society is so prosperous.” She smiled proudly at the thought. “And not only that, it’s a good thing we managed to take care of Azshara and her lackeys.” Maiev noticed his blindfold crease in a wince. She sighed. “I’m not holding that against you, Demon Hunter. You’re no longer associated with any of those wretches.”
“I was close to some of them though. The high elves were almost like my family.” They were silent for a moment. “But you’re right. It’s good they’re gone. Furion actually made a good decision when he exiled them.” He almost managed to keep the bitterness from his voice.
“Hey.” Maiev grabbed hold off his chin roughly in one hand. “Shan’do’s decisions are not yours. I can’t decide whether that last statement was sarcasm or not, but I’m going to tell this to you - they almost destroyed our society. Hell, our world itself. Illidan, we can’t risk something like that happening again. The high elves are gone and it’s good riddance.” She took her hand away and watched as Illidan rubbed at the tiny red marks her nails had left. “Perhaps you are lucky that you are stuck down here, alive and well kept instead of fighting for survival in unknown lands, thirsting for magic.”
“I am still thirsting for magic, Maiev,” he whispered fiercely. “Every day without it makes part of me die. At least I’d know I was earning my right to live if I had also been exiled instead of being kept down here in this hole. I would be with my family instead of-“ He froze at the hard, glaring expression on her face.
“Instead of some authoritative wench who tries to make your life miserable. I see, Illidan. I know what you think of me, despite what I think of you. I’m not good enough for your companionship.” He opened his mouth to speak. “Do not say a word!” she screamed, cutting him off. “You don’t appreciate anything I do for you! I don’t treat you miserably like I should, but you know what? You would probably prefer it. You would prefer that I beat you and screamed at you, letting you collect dust and starve while taunting you about how beautiful the surface world is and how beautiful sitting beside the Well of Eternity feels. Would you like that?!” she snarled at him, teeth bared in the most unpleasant expression.
Illidan was at a loss for words. He reached for her, leaning forward. She swatted at his hands, leaving nasty gashes and red marks, darkening his face with slaps to both cheeks. Still he leaned toward her, gathering her in his arms, ignoring the pain she was inflicting upon him. He brought her tightly to his chest, her arms stuck between their torsos. She struggled against him; he could feel the fury in her actions, but he refused to let go.
He held her to him for almost an hour while she calmed down, still attempting to scratch and bite him like a caged wildcat. At the end, she was still, her eyes and mouth open blankly as her head rested against his chest. His fingertips were numb from stroking her hair repeatedly in an attempt to still her wild thrashing.
“I don’t want you to go,” she said numbly, her eyes staring at nothing on the wall.
“Who said I was going anywhere?” he replied gently, kissing the top of her head.
“I wouldn’t want to stay here if I were you.”
“Well, it’s a good thing you’re not me then, isn’t it?”
She was silent.
“I’m supposed to stay here anyway, aren’t I?”
“Yes...”
“How would I leave? Just walk through the gate and out the cave? You certainly wouldn’t let me do that.”
“No, of course not...”
“Silly woman.”
Maiev buried her face in Illidan’s chest as she curled into a ball on his lap, then fell asleep to the gentle rhythm of his breathing.
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Maiev and Illidan continued their strange, intermittent relationship over the next few centuries. They were informed of happenings above ground mostly by messenger, as Maiev rarely left the prison. Tyrande never again came to see Illidan or talk to Maiev herself. They were on a sort of truce at the moment, in Maiev’s mind; the warden was still grateful for the priestess’s influential words to Furion at that awkward time. Despite this, Maiev preferred that Tyrande not show her face in Illidan’s presence.
Rumors of a foreign civilization came to Maiev’s ears; pale-skinned creatures not too unlike the night elves were settling in northern Azeroth. They practiced magic not unlike that of the high elves, which made every night elf woman a little uncomfortable, even though they were so far away. There were still chances that the high elves had survived their exile and were rebuilding themselves into a new society; they might ally themselves to the humans and decide to take revenge upon their cousins.
Tyrande took it upon herself to train each and every night elf woman to be a finely tuned weapon, a warrior in case war was ever upon them. The numbers of the Sentinels grew as each woman bettered her combat and scouting skills through the training. The night elf society grew culturally under Tyrande’s gentle guidance and help from the forest itself, including Cenarius, a local demigod who had become fond of the elven women and their ways. What relationship the druids had begun with the forest, the Sentinels cemented, using their skills to aid flora and fauna in need. More women became accustomed to seeing and socializing with dryads, Cenarius’ daughters who rarely let themselves be seen, let alone touched and conversed with. Kalimdor was a just and beautiful place, and every being there somehow found happiness simply in living.
Illidan stared sadly at the small patch of dull light that shone into his cell. At least a millenia had passed. It had to be. He wanted to see the surface again, to feel the blissful lights of the sun and moon upon his shoulders. He was paling from the lack of exposure to the open air; he bitterly compared his dusty, dull skin tone to Maiev’s rich purple hue whenever she touched him. The change didn’t seem to bother her, but then again, she was allowed to take breaks and leave the gloom of the prison to renew the vigor in her skin. She wasn’t the one undergoing the change. But then when he thought about it, he agreed with himself that it was better that he changed for the worse and she stayed lively and beautiful.
And the magic... He gritted his teeth. Maiev practically reeked of magic when she came back the surface, having no doubt bathed in water enhanced by the Well. It was those times when he most wanted to touch her, and she readily obliged him; he felt almost guilty because she thought the affection spawned from him missing her while she was away.
He chewed his lip. Well, he did miss her while she was away (it made him realize just how used to her constant presence he was), but the scent and feel of magic on her was simply intoxicating. Every touch was like a shock to his brain and he often found himself being a little than gentle to her...
Of course, being Maiev, she loved every second of it. He sometimes wondered whether she really did know about the touch of magic on her and did it intentionally, just to drive him mad.
He shook his head. It sounded like something she would do, just for her own amusement.
“Illidan.” The feminine voiced distracted him from his thoughts. He looked for the source and found Maiev standing right in front of him, staring at him with a bemused smile on her face.
“Such intrusion!” She screamed as he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her down onto him in a mock attempt to smother her against his chest. She laughed playfully as she struggled against his strength, eventually managing to wriggle free from his hold. She sat with her back on his chest; he felt her relax as she sighed.
“Do you know how long you’ve been down here with me?” she asked.
“Too long?”
“Wrong answer!” she said crossly, slapping him with the back of her hand. “It’s been almost 9,000 years, Illidan.”
His mouth dropped as she toyed idly with the fur trim of his pants. “Nine?”
“Yes. Nine millenia with your favorite person in the world. How exciting.” She laughed.
He was flabbergasted. He had no idea that much time had passed while he was imprisoned down here. “What about the druids? Have they returned?”
She snorted. “Of course not. Like I said a long time ago, Ysera is intent upon keeping them as long as she possibly can. Nothing short of a world disaster will be enough for her to allow them to awaken. And we haven’t had one of those in a very long time.” She began picking at her nails.
“I wonder how much the world has changed since I saw it last,” he murmured, stroking her arm softly. The though actually reminded him of his brothers injustice to him, and made him a little angry.
“Not too much, as far as I know.” Pick, pick.
“What about the humans? Are they still alive?”
“And thriving.” She blew on her nails and studied them gingerly.
“And the high elves? Anything about them?” he asked casually.
She shot him a look behind her shoulder. “Still curious about them, hm?” He started a reply, but she shushed him. “We had a human prisoner not too long ago. One of my close associates actually got to be one of his questioners when they brought him in for interrogation about why he was so far from his homeland. He said his race has been studying magic for quite some time now, with the aid of the high elves.” She felt Illidan stiffen beneath her. “Apparently, the elves have settled north of the human settlements in a place abundant with trolls. In return for aiding them against the trolls, the humans have been receiving teachings about magic. It was a rather interesting conversation, Lina said.”
“They’re still studying magic? But how, without the Well’s energies?” Illidan was shocked at the news.
“I don’t know. If the human was asked about it, he either didn’t know or Lina didn’t mention it.” She snuggled into him. “Care for a nap?”
“Sure,” he said, absently wrapping his arms around her as she rested against his chest. The high elves had survived and were still practicing magic? And without the Well... Somehow, they had figured out a way, and Illidan wanted part of it. Nine millenia without it; he was sure he deserved something for that.
But how do I find out?
He looked down at the nearly sleeping woman in his lap, but shook his head. She wouldn’t help him, even if she could get the information. There was only one way to do it.
He had to break out.
It was something he’d been pondering over the last nine thousand years, and had yet to come with an answer to. It was an impossibility. Maybe if he had help from the outside, but how could he do it and who could he trust?
Maiev purred as his fingers began stroking her hair idly as he thought. The sound brought his attention to her again and he suddenly felt a rush of emotion. What would it be like without her? She would be crushed and angry if he managed to leave her. As he thought about it more, he realized he would probably be equally depressed without her.
The solution to that was much easier than the problem about escaping. The rest of his term would be much less pleasant and more painful than now, but perhaps it would be worth it. Just the thought of weaving the threads of magic excited every nerve in his body. Maybe Maiev would even understand.
...Somehow, he doubted that.
Still, it sounded like a plan in his head. He would work on his emotions first and an escape route later. Maybe he would somehow get lucky and find a way to slip out. He chuckled quietly and rested his head on Maiev’s as he slowly fell asleep with her.
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“What the hell is your problem, you swine!” Maiev screamed, her breath hot on his face. “Since when have you been so intent upon misbehaving and completely disrespecting me??”
He snickered at the fine mess of greens and meat on her face and chest. He picked up the bowl it had been in and threw it at her again, hitting her on the neck. “YOU,” he growled, “are the most worthless wretch of a Watcher. You are abusive and mentally disturbing. And disturbed, for that matter. Tyrande should be able to find a better jailor than you, you miserable bitch.”
She stared at him, her mouth open and face covered with food. “I don’t believe what has gotten into you lately! You’ve completely regressed to a little child with bad manners and even worse hygiene. That and you’re damned mean.” She growled at him. “Fine. Have it your way and don’t eat.” She Blinked from his sight.
Knowing well where she was, he began to purposely think aloud. “You know, it’s been awhile since Tyrande was down here. Think she’ll ever visit us again? It would be wonderful to see that beautiful face again.” He sighed dramatically.
An anguished scream that he hadn’t heard in awhile blasted his ears. He smiled, though inside he felt horrible for what he was doing. He shrugged off the bad feeling as best he could and continued to rave about Tyrande and wonder when she would come back down to the prison, knowing how much Maiev despised the woman.
After a few hundred years of mentally beating on each other, Maiev and Illidan stopped talking. He sat in his cell quietly, rarely moving. Maiev knew he was thinking but she despised him too much to care. She brought him food occasionally; enough to keep him alive, but not nearly enough as she had before, when they had been happy all alone down here. The change in him had been sudden, as if he had suddenly decided that he disliked her. No, hated her. Why, she didn’t know, and but she was sure that it was unfair and unreasonable, and that she was furious at him for being such an ass to her. She didn’t deserve this treatment from the likes of him. So she treated him as seemed fair to her.
The silence was horribly uncomfortable though, even after a hundred years of it. Maiev began to spend as little time in the cave as possible; she often took trips to the Well and bathed, pondering troubled thoughts as she relaxed in the soothing waters. She had purposely bathed in it before for Illidan, knowing how the magic in the water infused into her skin and made her irresistible to him; now she just needed the calming properties of the liquid to still her grating nerves.
Her sisters, sensing her distress, happily obliged when she asked them to take over Watching Illidan for her when she needed a break. Even Tyrande eventually asked her if she was alright with her duties.
“You seem depressed, Warden Shadowsong,” the priestess had said, starling Maiev when she had suddenly appeared behind her on the banks of the Well.
“I am merely moody lately, I suppose, Priestess,” she replied quietly.
“That’s a few years of moody, dear.” Tyrande delicately disrobed and climbed into the water beside Maiev. “Many of the women who have seen you have come to me, distressed about how unpleasant and quiet you’ve become.” She kissed Maiev’s cheek. “Elune can help you with your problems if you pray to her.”
“I do not need the attention and gifts of a goddess, Priestess,” she snapped, then immediately apologized for her tone.
Tyrande began to stroke her hair comfortingly; the feeling brought back memories of Illidan and Maiev recoiled, as if bitten by a snake. Startled, Tyrande took her hands, refusing to let go as Maiev tried to pull them away. “Has something happened between you and Illidan?” the Priestess asked in a low voice, making sure no one else would overhear.
“That is none of your business!” Maiev screamed, standing and leaving the pool quickly, without so much as a look back. Tyrande watched sadly as she disappeared into the forest, sighing as she sank into the waters of the Well.
Chapter 4 -- Chapter 6