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yukieTITLE: Exeunt Omnes?
FANDOM: WoW
PEOPLE: Sylvanas and Koltira
PAIRING: Implied Thass/Koltira. I SHIP IT HARD.
RATING: PG-ish, I think, just for discussion of past violence, and one or two cusses.
WARNINGS: Discussion of nasty war tactics (in particular the shit pulled in WCIII by a certain commander), and of Varian's and Garrosh's canonical pasts.
NOTES: This is one of few times you will ever see me working in WoW's canon proper. XD Of course, my take on the canon events is much different. Basically--ever wondered why the Andorhal questline's writing was so shitty and hammy, and why everyone was acting liek they were hopped up on something potent? Read on. XD
***
As the terrified adventurer's footsteps receded, the expression on Lady Sylvanas Windrunner's face shifted from a grin that would have been more at home on her dead nemesis to a slight grimace of distaste. Sighing, she strode to the door and shut it firmly.
Pensive now, she murmured, "Was that over the top? I can never tell."
The reply she received was faint and wry. "I'm afraid it was, highness. However, I wouldn't worry too much. We're hardly dealing with elite Steamwheedle engineers, here."
Sylvanas snorted quietly. Turning to the wall from behind which the remark had come, she ran her hand over the bit of stonework that served as the latch for the hidden door.
In the room beyond, the unbound, uninjured Koltira Deathweaver quirked a brow at her from where he sat on the floor. The Abomination who'd 'abducted' him had wandered over to stare at something on the wall. It appeared to be a moth.
Sylvanas mirrored Koltira's expression. "You're not hurt, then? Vile seemed to be somewhat enthused about this whole business; I was worried he'd punctured your breastplate."
Koltira knocked on the Saronite plate armour, demonstrating its integrity. "It's somewhat dented, but nothing irreparable. And it's better that Vile was excited about all of this; it makes things more convincing. Whoever heard of an Abomination half-assedly applying a Scourge hook? I can deal with scratched armour if it means this succeeds."
Sylvanas watched him closely as he got to his feet just the same. Once she was satisfied that he was telling the truth about his state, she said, "I wasn't lying when I told you earlier that I was loath to lose you. And not all of that irritation I was displaying throughout this whole charade was nonsense."
"I'd gathered that." Koltira looked a bit rueful.
"You and your brother-in-death could have been killed, Koltira. Do you think that Alliance commander who sent Thassarian into territory surrounded by enemies, with little to no support and absolutely no alternative means of escape should the worst come to pass--do you think for a moment that such a person would think twice about murdering you to punish him? Whoever sent Thassarian here to Andorhal clearly wanted him dead. While I appreciate that your bond as Knights of Acherus surpasses whatever quarrels Alliance and Horde might have…others will not understand this."
She knew the thoughts of such 'others' all too well - they were the same ones who hadn't understood her affection for Nathanos, and her belief in his talents, in the least.
Sylvanas, however exasperated she was with them, was not without sympathy for the two Death Knights. She'd stood in that position herself.
"I know, highness," Koltira murmured, shoulders slumped. Guilt and anger warred on his face for a moment; the anger won out. "I can't believe that someone would try it again. That--the Third War wasn't seven years ago, Garithos's actions are hardly unknown to the public at large, and yet STILL we have these ignorant fools deliberately trying to--'dispose' of 'undesirables' in the exact same way--"
"So long as the human king is more focused on his personal demons and the spectres of his past than reality at large," Sylvanas said, "that's going to persist."
"it will, won't it." Koltira sighed. "…At any rate, that's nothing to me, now. Or to him. I'm a Knight of Acherus; I have no master but myself, and no commander but Highlord Mograine…"
He paused, looked thoughtful, and then gave Sylvanas one of his rare genuine smiles.
"I can't say that I didn't enjoy working for you, though. Before everything got absolutely moronic."
"You were a good soldier, Koltira. You are still. You're simply no longer mine."
"Was that a breath of wistfulness I detected, highness?"
'Perhaps." Sylvanas failed to hide a grin. Then, sobering, she said, "To be frank, and just to put any lingering doubts you may have to rest, I have no quarrel with Thassarian outside thinking him a fool for trusting that ridiculous human king, and wondering why he doesn't simply come home. It's obvious that's what he wants. He was a knight of Lordaeron in life; in death, and within his heart, he is still a knight of Lordaeron."
"He's also a sentimental lofty-minded fluff-wit," Koltira said. "He believes he's obligated to serve the Alliance since he died in service to the Alliance."
"While I understand the sentiment," Sylvanas said, again thinking of Nathanos, "I question the logic."
"Sometimes logic is to Thassarian as oil is to water. I told you about the time he sent a crew of neophytes to liberate me from the Scarlets' compound, didn't I?"
"It was creative of him."
"And ridiculous.
"Just a touch." Sylvanas said. Then, "Where will you be meeting with him? I understand why you felt the need to keep that from me; if anyone overheard, you both might well have been assaulted or worse. If you still feel the need to keep that from me, I won't complain."
No one would overhear now except Vile, and he was currently engrossed in watching the moth nibble away at a tapestry. Still, if Koltira felt unsafe informing Sylvanas, she didn't feel the need to pry.
"We'll go to Acherus," said Koltira. "All of us possess the ability to open a personally-attuned portal there. No one could follow me even if they wanted to; even if they managed somehow, they'd find themselves face-to-face with the Highlord, as well as the rest of the knights of the necropolis. I'll keep hidden for as long as I need to. It won't be difficult; Acherus is immense, and if anyone spots me I'll simply tell them that Thassarian staged a daring rescue."
A beat.
"He'd better not expect me to flutter my eyelashes as I do so, though."
"He would charge right in for you, too," Sylvanas chortled, "and likely do a better job alone than did the entire Alliance contingent who invaded us a year ago."
"Thassarian knows the meaning of the word subtlety. Varian Wrynn does not. I suspect he believes it's a sort of traditional Elven dessert."
Sylvanas managed not to laugh--barely. "He's young," she said, "and he's haunted, and he denies that he is. Thus, he behaves like a complete fool. Every time he sees me, he sees the friend whose soul he failed to save. Every time he sees Thrall, he witnesses his father dying. He's not subtle; he's an open book. He keeps nothing to himself, and his enemies will exploit that."
Arthas had. More than once.
The means by which the plague had come to Stormwind was a direct attack on Varian's heart and memory. It was obvious. Varian would remember what became of Stratholme al too well. Sylvanas suspected that the Lich King's intent was to provoke Varian into haring off on his own so he might challenge Arthas one-to-one, die doing so, and be revived as one of Arthas's right hands.
He'd intended the same for Jaina. Sylvanas would not soon forget the look he directed at the Lady of Theramore when the two of them stormed the Halls of Reflection.
"Will you?" Koltira asked Sylvanas, drawing her back to here and now.
"Exploit his memories, you mean?" Sylvanas wasn't offended; it was an honest question. She thought a moment, then said, "No. Not unless I must. As I said, he's young, and a fool. I am no Tirion Fordring; I may well be a witch as he claimed. However, unless there's need to exploit one so obviously, pathetically defenseless against such a thing, I'll leave him be."
Psychological warfare was one thing; mental torture was another. Sylvanas was not above the former, but considered the latter the territory of the one who'd made her what she was. Shattering or domineering a mind was anathema to her.
That was why Warden Stillwater was permanently dead.
(It was probably wise to doubt the wits of anyone who couldn't tell male and female blood elves apart, Sylvanas thought. They were, to a one, either complete fools or simply touched in the head.)
Sylvanas went on, "Garrosh Hellscream is more of a danger to me than is Varian Wrynn."
"Garrosh Hellscream is a danger to himself and everything around him that wants to remain intact." Koltira rolled his eyes. "Speaking of unsubtle. He makes Vile look like a Deathstalker. And it's quite obvious to me that he's terrified of you. He wouldn't need to posture and growl and call you a bitch if he weren't."
"I am what I am because of a being that was once one of his people," Sylvanas said, and shrugged. "I can hardly help this fact; if I have to remind him of it to ensure the safety of my people, I will. If I must pretend to be what he fears I am to keep him from doing harm to us, so be it."
Koltira dusted his cloak off absently. "Funny that Wrynn and Hellscream are so similar. Perhaps that's why they can't help but beat one another about the head and shoulders."
"I have little doubt." Sylvanas watched Koltira fuss with his runeblade a moment, then said, "Send word when you reach Acherus, if you will. That's my last order as your Queen."
Koltira, though he was free to refuse, instead gave her a bow that was just this side of cheeky. "As you wish."
She watched him conjure the portal, and then turn to face her.
"Be well," he said.
"And you," she replied.
He stepped through the portal and vanished in a shimmer of murky violet-green light.
He'd been right, of course. She was a bit wistful. Koltira had been difficult by turns, and foolish, but nonetheless a valuable asset to her people.
Darion Mograine was a lucky young man, and Sylvanas intended to be sure he knew it.
She planned to do the same for Thassarian, and rather hoped he didn't ever attempt to explain Koltira's mysterious reappearance. The man couldn't lie worth a damn, and couldn't act either. The fact that the Alliance forces found his actions convincing made her worry about them slightly. Or, perhaps they'd known, and were playing along?
There was no way to truly be certain.
Sylvanas hoped, too, that he'd be able to mend his familiar. Lurid, though noisy, was hardly an unpleasant sort.
FANDOM: WoW
PEOPLE: Sylvanas and Koltira
PAIRING: Implied Thass/Koltira. I SHIP IT HARD.
RATING: PG-ish, I think, just for discussion of past violence, and one or two cusses.
WARNINGS: Discussion of nasty war tactics (in particular the shit pulled in WCIII by a certain commander), and of Varian's and Garrosh's canonical pasts.
NOTES: This is one of few times you will ever see me working in WoW's canon proper. XD Of course, my take on the canon events is much different. Basically--ever wondered why the Andorhal questline's writing was so shitty and hammy, and why everyone was acting liek they were hopped up on something potent? Read on. XD
***
As the terrified adventurer's footsteps receded, the expression on Lady Sylvanas Windrunner's face shifted from a grin that would have been more at home on her dead nemesis to a slight grimace of distaste. Sighing, she strode to the door and shut it firmly.
Pensive now, she murmured, "Was that over the top? I can never tell."
The reply she received was faint and wry. "I'm afraid it was, highness. However, I wouldn't worry too much. We're hardly dealing with elite Steamwheedle engineers, here."
Sylvanas snorted quietly. Turning to the wall from behind which the remark had come, she ran her hand over the bit of stonework that served as the latch for the hidden door.
In the room beyond, the unbound, uninjured Koltira Deathweaver quirked a brow at her from where he sat on the floor. The Abomination who'd 'abducted' him had wandered over to stare at something on the wall. It appeared to be a moth.
Sylvanas mirrored Koltira's expression. "You're not hurt, then? Vile seemed to be somewhat enthused about this whole business; I was worried he'd punctured your breastplate."
Koltira knocked on the Saronite plate armour, demonstrating its integrity. "It's somewhat dented, but nothing irreparable. And it's better that Vile was excited about all of this; it makes things more convincing. Whoever heard of an Abomination half-assedly applying a Scourge hook? I can deal with scratched armour if it means this succeeds."
Sylvanas watched him closely as he got to his feet just the same. Once she was satisfied that he was telling the truth about his state, she said, "I wasn't lying when I told you earlier that I was loath to lose you. And not all of that irritation I was displaying throughout this whole charade was nonsense."
"I'd gathered that." Koltira looked a bit rueful.
"You and your brother-in-death could have been killed, Koltira. Do you think that Alliance commander who sent Thassarian into territory surrounded by enemies, with little to no support and absolutely no alternative means of escape should the worst come to pass--do you think for a moment that such a person would think twice about murdering you to punish him? Whoever sent Thassarian here to Andorhal clearly wanted him dead. While I appreciate that your bond as Knights of Acherus surpasses whatever quarrels Alliance and Horde might have…others will not understand this."
She knew the thoughts of such 'others' all too well - they were the same ones who hadn't understood her affection for Nathanos, and her belief in his talents, in the least.
Sylvanas, however exasperated she was with them, was not without sympathy for the two Death Knights. She'd stood in that position herself.
"I know, highness," Koltira murmured, shoulders slumped. Guilt and anger warred on his face for a moment; the anger won out. "I can't believe that someone would try it again. That--the Third War wasn't seven years ago, Garithos's actions are hardly unknown to the public at large, and yet STILL we have these ignorant fools deliberately trying to--'dispose' of 'undesirables' in the exact same way--"
"So long as the human king is more focused on his personal demons and the spectres of his past than reality at large," Sylvanas said, "that's going to persist."
"it will, won't it." Koltira sighed. "…At any rate, that's nothing to me, now. Or to him. I'm a Knight of Acherus; I have no master but myself, and no commander but Highlord Mograine…"
He paused, looked thoughtful, and then gave Sylvanas one of his rare genuine smiles.
"I can't say that I didn't enjoy working for you, though. Before everything got absolutely moronic."
"You were a good soldier, Koltira. You are still. You're simply no longer mine."
"Was that a breath of wistfulness I detected, highness?"
'Perhaps." Sylvanas failed to hide a grin. Then, sobering, she said, "To be frank, and just to put any lingering doubts you may have to rest, I have no quarrel with Thassarian outside thinking him a fool for trusting that ridiculous human king, and wondering why he doesn't simply come home. It's obvious that's what he wants. He was a knight of Lordaeron in life; in death, and within his heart, he is still a knight of Lordaeron."
"He's also a sentimental lofty-minded fluff-wit," Koltira said. "He believes he's obligated to serve the Alliance since he died in service to the Alliance."
"While I understand the sentiment," Sylvanas said, again thinking of Nathanos, "I question the logic."
"Sometimes logic is to Thassarian as oil is to water. I told you about the time he sent a crew of neophytes to liberate me from the Scarlets' compound, didn't I?"
"It was creative of him."
"And ridiculous.
"Just a touch." Sylvanas said. Then, "Where will you be meeting with him? I understand why you felt the need to keep that from me; if anyone overheard, you both might well have been assaulted or worse. If you still feel the need to keep that from me, I won't complain."
No one would overhear now except Vile, and he was currently engrossed in watching the moth nibble away at a tapestry. Still, if Koltira felt unsafe informing Sylvanas, she didn't feel the need to pry.
"We'll go to Acherus," said Koltira. "All of us possess the ability to open a personally-attuned portal there. No one could follow me even if they wanted to; even if they managed somehow, they'd find themselves face-to-face with the Highlord, as well as the rest of the knights of the necropolis. I'll keep hidden for as long as I need to. It won't be difficult; Acherus is immense, and if anyone spots me I'll simply tell them that Thassarian staged a daring rescue."
A beat.
"He'd better not expect me to flutter my eyelashes as I do so, though."
"He would charge right in for you, too," Sylvanas chortled, "and likely do a better job alone than did the entire Alliance contingent who invaded us a year ago."
"Thassarian knows the meaning of the word subtlety. Varian Wrynn does not. I suspect he believes it's a sort of traditional Elven dessert."
Sylvanas managed not to laugh--barely. "He's young," she said, "and he's haunted, and he denies that he is. Thus, he behaves like a complete fool. Every time he sees me, he sees the friend whose soul he failed to save. Every time he sees Thrall, he witnesses his father dying. He's not subtle; he's an open book. He keeps nothing to himself, and his enemies will exploit that."
Arthas had. More than once.
The means by which the plague had come to Stormwind was a direct attack on Varian's heart and memory. It was obvious. Varian would remember what became of Stratholme al too well. Sylvanas suspected that the Lich King's intent was to provoke Varian into haring off on his own so he might challenge Arthas one-to-one, die doing so, and be revived as one of Arthas's right hands.
He'd intended the same for Jaina. Sylvanas would not soon forget the look he directed at the Lady of Theramore when the two of them stormed the Halls of Reflection.
"Will you?" Koltira asked Sylvanas, drawing her back to here and now.
"Exploit his memories, you mean?" Sylvanas wasn't offended; it was an honest question. She thought a moment, then said, "No. Not unless I must. As I said, he's young, and a fool. I am no Tirion Fordring; I may well be a witch as he claimed. However, unless there's need to exploit one so obviously, pathetically defenseless against such a thing, I'll leave him be."
Psychological warfare was one thing; mental torture was another. Sylvanas was not above the former, but considered the latter the territory of the one who'd made her what she was. Shattering or domineering a mind was anathema to her.
That was why Warden Stillwater was permanently dead.
(It was probably wise to doubt the wits of anyone who couldn't tell male and female blood elves apart, Sylvanas thought. They were, to a one, either complete fools or simply touched in the head.)
Sylvanas went on, "Garrosh Hellscream is more of a danger to me than is Varian Wrynn."
"Garrosh Hellscream is a danger to himself and everything around him that wants to remain intact." Koltira rolled his eyes. "Speaking of unsubtle. He makes Vile look like a Deathstalker. And it's quite obvious to me that he's terrified of you. He wouldn't need to posture and growl and call you a bitch if he weren't."
"I am what I am because of a being that was once one of his people," Sylvanas said, and shrugged. "I can hardly help this fact; if I have to remind him of it to ensure the safety of my people, I will. If I must pretend to be what he fears I am to keep him from doing harm to us, so be it."
Koltira dusted his cloak off absently. "Funny that Wrynn and Hellscream are so similar. Perhaps that's why they can't help but beat one another about the head and shoulders."
"I have little doubt." Sylvanas watched Koltira fuss with his runeblade a moment, then said, "Send word when you reach Acherus, if you will. That's my last order as your Queen."
Koltira, though he was free to refuse, instead gave her a bow that was just this side of cheeky. "As you wish."
She watched him conjure the portal, and then turn to face her.
"Be well," he said.
"And you," she replied.
He stepped through the portal and vanished in a shimmer of murky violet-green light.
He'd been right, of course. She was a bit wistful. Koltira had been difficult by turns, and foolish, but nonetheless a valuable asset to her people.
Darion Mograine was a lucky young man, and Sylvanas intended to be sure he knew it.
She planned to do the same for Thassarian, and rather hoped he didn't ever attempt to explain Koltira's mysterious reappearance. The man couldn't lie worth a damn, and couldn't act either. The fact that the Alliance forces found his actions convincing made her worry about them slightly. Or, perhaps they'd known, and were playing along?
There was no way to truly be certain.
Sylvanas hoped, too, that he'd be able to mend his familiar. Lurid, though noisy, was hardly an unpleasant sort.