**Author’s Note!!** - Thanks for sticking with me through this whole story, guys. It has been so much fun to write this out and listen to everyone’s feedback along the way. Maiev and I are so much closer than we were when I first started this, and I am loving it. ^_^ Hope you enjoy this final chapter - perhaps it will shed some light as to why Maiev is so pissy throughout Frozen Throne. Cheers! *hugs*
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“The high elves are gone, Illidan.”
Maiev stood motionless outside his cell, speaking to him for the first time in years.
Illidan remained still inside his bars, but the statement startled him. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Azeroth is being invaded again.”
The fear and loathing in her voice told him that she was not lying, at least not to her knowledge. “What news is there? Have the demons returned once again?”
Her voice shook slightly as she told him. “The demons have set forth a terrible plague upon the land. It is being referred to as ‘the scourge’; apparently, it grows when people die, making them ‘undead.’ It has reeked havoc upon Lordaeron; the human and high elf cities are in ruins and the people slaughtered.” She slumped to the floor. “Scouts turned up a few camps on the banks of the sea of humans and orcs alike. They’ve supposedly been at war for many years, but it looks as if they have a fragile alliance going. There are a few high elves within the human ranks but the numbers are small.” She sniffed. “You be amazed at how much they’ve changed over the millenia. They look almost human now.”
He grumbled, but inside, he was excited. The news of a coming war did not make him happy, but perhaps his chance to escape was coming soon. The Watchers might be called to war and he let out...
Or die. He might end up stuck down here while hordes of demons slaughter the guards and then tear him to shreds. His fists clenched. He was a demon hunter, not the reverse, though if anything, he would certainly not be taken in the open while helpless.
“Maiev, you must let me out,” he growled.
She stared at him for a moment, then barked a high-pitched laugh. “Let you out? Let you out?! Illidan, you’ve surely lost your mind after all these years. Why in Elune’s name would I free you? Even if we were still on good terms, it would be against my duty. And duty comes first.” She waggled a finger at him.
He bared his teeth at her and stood. “And what if you must leave? What if you are called to the surface to fight in this war? What if you and the rest of the women die because you are unaided? Trust me, Maiev, if you didn’t know before, you will; the demons are a horribly fierce and deadly adversary. The Sentinels and Watchers alone could not hope to keep them from destroying our society. I can help! I have knowledge, experience, and skills that would help you all greatly in battle.” He threw himself at the bars and held onto them tightly. “I can help.”
She merely continued looking at him, a bemused smile on her face. “Desperate demon hunter. I’ll have none of it. Go back to being a good little prisoner.”
“Maiev,” he stretched himself and managed to grab a hold of her cape as she turned to leave. “I don’t want you to leave, much less die. Please,” he whispered.
She stood, shaking visibly, refusing to look at him. Suddenly, she ripped the fabric from his grasp and stormed to her chamber. “Do not touch me, you son of a pig!” she screamed as she disappeared.
Illidan grimaced in frustration and collapsed to the floor once more. Well, there was one plan gone and good for nothing.
He was worried about the invasion. Perhaps Maiev thought that the demons would just stay in Lordaeron and not bother with Kalimdor. Too bad she was wrong. Demons always strove for conquest, and they more often than not got it.
I refuse to die down here.
He really could help... Perhaps all the races would miraculously band together to fight the war. He could lead and fight alongside them. Dying in battle would at least be glorious and honorable, unlike being stuck in a dark cave gathering dust as you await death to knock upon your door.
“I want to fight!” he bellowed, dislodging small chunks of rock from the ceiling with the power of his voice.
No answer.
He roared angrily, beating his head against the cold bars. “MAIEV, I DON’T WANT YOU TO DIE, AT LEAST LET ME FIGHT FOR YOU. DON’T LEAVE ME!”
Puffing, he heard a quiet sniff. “I hate you,” came a small wavering voice. “I hate you with my all my heart, Illidan. I hope we both die. Both of us die painful, painful deaths.”
Completely baffled but still furious, Illidan continued to pull at the bars, occasionally ramming his head into them. He grunted with pain as he began to count into the second hour, but refused to stop. I absolutely will not sit here and wait to die. I’ll kill myself if I have to.
“Will you stop that?” The voice once again floated out from Maiev’s apartment, tired and irritated.
“No.” He emphasized his answer with an especially loud and painful headbutt.
“You’re awfully annoying.”
“You’re awfully bitchy.” Clang.
“It’s my job, you sniveling little child.”
“Mine is to not sit here while war is being war above. I should be up there in it.”
“Your job is to shut your mouth and sit there like a good boy until your older brother comes to release you. Which is never. So just realize that fact and settle down.”
“Bitch,” he muttered.
“Criminal,” came the bitter reply.
Annoyed by her attitude and having a aching headache, Illidan decided to give up on the self-beating and sat on the floor, head in his hands. I need to get out of this place.
The sudden sound of footfalls from the caverns beyond interrupted his thoughts. His head snapped up, ears alert. Apparently, Maiev had also heard, as she came flying from her chamber and to the cave mouth to intercept the intruder.
The footsteps had belonged to a frantic scout, sent to Maiev to deliver a message from Tyrande. Illidan strained to hear the conversation between the two women, but only managed to catch small pieces, among them “war,” “druids,” and “summons.” Maiev looked over at him; there was worry in her eyes. More footfalls attracted his attention, but Maiev ignored them, evidently expecting them. Numerous Watchers filed into the cavern, wide eyes all on him. He ignored them, keeping his “eyes” on Maiev and the messenger. He saw her nod to the woman and caught a brief, sad glance from her before she suddenly turned and left the chamber.
Was she being called to the surface for war?
“What’s going on?” he rumbled to the group of women.
“Silence, prisoner,” the tallest of them snapped. “Mistress Shadowsong has been called to the temple by Priestess Tyrande for business. Business that is none of your own.”
“She is my Watcher, you slut,” he snapped back. “All business that is hers will reflect upon my being. What goes on?”
“Maiev is no longer your Watcher, you pig. You will obey what we give you.” She walked over to the bars and studied him, looking him up and down. “Ten thousand years hasn’t changed you a bit, demon hunter. Except perhaps to make you more bitter than before.” She laughed.
He growled at her, annoyed by the throng of women staring at him like he was some sort of strange animal. “What is the news of the war?” he asked, restraining caustic comments he would have liked to let fly.
“I suppose you don’t get much information down here, do you?” She snorted. “The druids have been awakened. Priestess Tyrande is rallying the Sentinels for war. A shaky alliance has been made with the humans and orcs that have landed upon and befouled our shores.” She wrinkled her nose in disgust. “They are both disgusting creatures, but so long as our interests are the same, they are tolerable. The demons and their plague must be driven off, as they were so many millenia ago.”
“Why is Maiev going? I need her here,” he hated to say it, but he would much rather have her here than a whole group of these wretched women.
“The Mistress’ business is none of yours,” she repeated. “I will answer no more questions. Calm yourself and relax. You may be released if we make it through this war.”
Hope soared in Illidan heart. They just had to make it through this invasion...
He only hoped they could do it without him.
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“Priestess, this is wrong.”
“It must be done, sister.” Tyrande’s huge snow-white tiger gingerly stepped around and over rocks as it navigated the path of the cave. A small band of Sentinels followed the Priestess, uneasy with the mission but loyal to her cause. Some were nursing small wounds from stumbling into spiders’ nests but all went on with grim determination.
“No. Absolutely not, Tyrande,” Furion had said when she posed the idea to him. “Even in this time, Illidan cannot be allowed to leave his cell.”
“It has been ten thousand years, my love,” she argued. “Don’t you think that will have had some sort of impact on him? Surely he has thought about actions. Besides, he would be extremely useful in this battle; he has had experience and he specializes in fighting demons. Give him a chance, Furion.”
The archdruid had sighed and shook his head. “I cannot allow it, love. Just, no.”
But Tyrande’s mind was set. She was not about to be told no by her lover; although he technically was the leader now that the druids had awakened, nine thousand years without him had lowered his rank in her mind. She had been making the decisions for the women for the entire time, so why stop now? She was sure that her idea had merit and that Illidan would indeed prove to be a invaluable resource against the Burning Legion.
So she was setting him free.
There was a detail she had been worried about - the Watchers, Maiev specifically. She could not leave him unguarded, lest she arouse suspicion from Furion. She sent a summons to Maiev, to draw her from the caverns, so as to spare her. The other Watchers, however, could not be helped. For this, Tyrande was sad, but she could not turn back now. The plan was in motion.
The Priestess grew increasingly nervous as they neared the chamber where Illidan was kept. They had to be around somewhere...
“Intruder!” a sudden scream alerted her. “Sisters!” she called fiercely. Not hesitating, the Sentinels pulled forward, glaives striking ruthlessly against the owner of the voice. A Watcher. The attack did not stop until the woman’s body lay motionless and bloodied on the stone floor.
“May Elune guide you to the hereafter, sister,” Tyrande said quietly. “Onward!” she called loudly, leading her band of women deeper into the cave.
The Sentinels took down numerous Watchers on their way to Illidan’s cell - most died with a look of pained shock on their faces as they were struck. Tyrande blessed each numbly in her mind as they continued down the passage. Many women were dying for this cause. You must make this worth it, Illidan.
They finally reached the main chamber where Illidan was being held. The group of Watchers there turned toward them, surprised, then screamed in horror as their sisters struck them down with their blades. Each of the Sentinels had a sickened, sad look upon her face as they surveyed the bodies of the fallen.
Tyrande strode up to the bars of Illidan’s cage. “Illidan Stormrage,” she called to the still form on the ground, “we are in dire need of your aid above ground. The Burning Legion has struck the land once more. You would be invaluable to us against them.”
“Tyrande.” Illidan’s tired voice floated to her ears. “It is so good to hear your voice again. Yes, I will aid you if you can free me.”
Having learned the incantation from Furion, Tyrande spoke the key to the locks of the cell. The bars swung open, and Illidan looked hungrily beyond them. “Finally free,” he whispered to himself, then rose and stepped farther from the wall than he had in ten thousand years. “It is so good to feel free.”
“I brought these for you.” In Tyrande’s hands rested his warblades, still sharp even after their disuse.
Illidan’s hands closed on his weapons as he swung them around, testing the muscles in his arms. He closed his eyes beneath his blindfold and sighed. “Thank you, Tyrande. You don’t know how it feels to hold these again. I feel younger.”
She nodded. “Good. Now, we must get moving. This mission is unknown to Furion, and we must continue and finish it before he gets word.”
Illidan looked around at the bodies of the fallen Watchers. “So this was necessary.” He nodded. “I understand. Some of them deserved it.” He could not keep the sneer from his lips.
“What...”
A sudden, familiar voice echoed loudly through the chamber. His heart jumping into his throat, Illidan turned and saw Maiev standing by the passage on the far side of the room. Her secret passage... His tongue suddenly turned to ice and he found himself unable to speak.
“Maiev.” The tone in Tyrande’s voice indicated that she was startled, but she regained his usual confident composure quickly. “I wanted to spare you, Maiev, so I summoned you above for no reason. But I cannot let you go. Please understand.”
Maiev stared at her disbelievingly until Tyrande nodded to the Sentinels, who moved forward rapidly, their bloodied blades gleaming dully.
Her eyes on Illidan, Maiev screamed and flung herself forward at the oncoming women, her chakram waving as she struck at them viciously; knives flashed as she whipped them skillfully at her attackers. She threw herself at Tyrande, her teeth bared angrily, but the push of women stopped her charge.
Maiev only fell when four of the Sentinels had been downed by her blades. Her eyes remained locked on Illidan, blood pouring down her face from her head and nose. He could only stare back at her, unable to move or speak. She looked up at him from the ground, a plea for help in her eyes as her fingers stretched for him.
He didn’t move.
A heavy thunk sounded as a woman hit Maiev in the head with the side of her glaive. The Warden blacked out, her body sprawled out upon the ground amongst the Sentinels whose lives she had taken. Her tight grip on her chakram loosened as Illidan finally tore his gaze from her, his face stone hard.
“May Elune look over you, Mistress Shadowsong,” Tyrande said sadly, before turning to what was left of her band. “Now we must journey back to the surface, sisters. Welcome Illidan Stormrage to our entourage. He will prove to be quite a plus for our warriors against the Scourge and their demonic counterparts. Let us ride!” With that, her tiger glided out of the chamber, followed by the huntresses and the demon hunter. Illidan could not bring himself to look back.
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She awoke to a splitting headache, pain echoing throughout her entire body. She stretched her jaw, breaking sheets of blood crusted on her face.
All Maiev could see was red.
Teeth bared, she ignored the pain in her body and crawled into her apartment. She collapsed on a soft rug and lay there, panting, thinking. Then, mustering all the strength she had in her, she brought herself to stand. Eye level with her old helmet, she stared into its empty eyeholes. Anger, hate, and vengeance dominated her mind as she shakily reached for her helm.
She sighed angrily as it rested on her head, closing her eyes to contain the hot rage within her.
I will have them all. Then they will see who I am.
She turned and stared into the lifeless cell.
And they will pay for what they have done.
Dragging herself over to her chakram, she bent over with difficulty and took the weapon back into her hand. She began hobbling up the passage after the Priestess and the Sentinels. And her lover. He whom she hated and loved so much.
The feeling of hate was obscenely stronger at that moment.
Maiev stumbled many times as she made it through the cave, but not once did she stop staring ahead of her, teeth bared in a feral rage, her grip continually tightening on her chakram as if she intended to never let go again.
Chapter 5