Tightening Grasp
Chapter 8: Dark Lady, Where Are You?
Notes:
Chapter Text
Anduin had Anevay accompany him more often after bringing her a change of clothes. His control strengthened along with his boldness, and he had begun to quite enjoy having a beautiful woman accompany him everywhere. There was an especially sinister satisfaction at knowing it was Sylvanas’ wife who was accompanying him. Without her armor, most people didn’t even recognize Anevay for who she was. The violet armor and the Icon of Torment on her tabard had been the easiest ways to tell who she was. Now they just saw an elf with green eyes, red hair and freckles. Without the bulk of her armor, Anevay looked like any simple noblewoman.
But the eyes did pose one very particular giveaway.
“Blimey, my King!” a shopkeeper said as Anduin entered the shop. “Is that a bleedin’ blood elf?”
“At ease, my good man,” Anduin said with a smile. “My guest here is completely harmless. She wouldn’t hurt a fly. Isn’t that right?”
“Of course,” Anevay said, inclining her head and smiling in a way that was at least passably natural.
“There, see?” Anduin smiled.
“Alright, but what’s with the elf, anyway?” the shopkeeper asked.
“Well I think as King I’m entitled to a few… comforts,” Anduin chuckled.
“Still, we got our own courtesans in the city,” he shrugged. “How’d you get a Horde wench to come here?”
Anduin couldn’t help but smirk. “Would it be too cheesy to say a silver tongue?” he asked.
His response got a soft giggle out of Anevay. A giggle manufactured by his own will, but enough to help put the shopkeeper at ease somewhat.
“What matters is that I trust her enough to be here so the people of Stormwind needn’t fear,” he concluded.
“Well, she can be trusted. But I can’t imagine what her husband would think if he saw her here,” the shopkeeper laughed, pointing to Anevay’s hand,
Anduin followed to see the truesilver wedding band that adorned Anevay’s hand. A brazenly obvious sign that she was married.
“...Well, I imagine she’s doing what she can to help support her family,” Anduin said with a slightly strained smile. “We can’t fault her for that.”
“My husband is a very understanding man,” Anevay offered in tandem. “He knows that any business with the King is good business.”
The shopkeeper whistled and drew a basket onto the counter. “Well, it’s all here my King. Just like you asked. Half a dozen apples, two loaves of bread, a wheel of cheese and a pheasant. I didn’t think the King would be pickin’ up his own groceries.”
“That would be my training as a priest at play,” Anduin said as he accepted the basket and placed down a small handful of gold in return. “One must always practice modesty and humility. Even as a king. Besides, such a routine allows me to be out among my people.”
‘In the company of such a beautiful woman, no less.’
“I’ll bet it does,” the shopkeeper chuckled. “Speakin’ o’ which. Any luck in regards to takin’ back out territory from the Banshee and her corpse slut?”
‘I want to Blight this entire city,’ Anevay seethed.
“Well there is only so much SI:7 advises I reveal, but I will say that the most significant changes are the slowest,” Anduin offered. “Rest assured that, sooner or later, the Alliance will have Lordaeron again.”
“I was talkin’ about the Tree, but yeah Lordaeron too,” the shopkeeper chuckled. “What I wouldn’t give to see those two in stocks after everythin’ they’ve done.”
Anduin offered a light chuckle at that. “Well, I can understand that mindset, even if I am more partial to clemency,” he said before giving Anevay a knowing smile. “Still, a streak of mercy at the right time might not be misplaced.”
Anevay wanted to vomit.
‘You think that this is mercy, you sick fucking cockroach!?’
“Maybe for the elf wench, but I can’t see the Banshee being of any use,” the shopkeeper shrugged. “At least Darkflare’s not bad to look at.”
“After meeting the woman, I can confirm that,” Anduin nodded before reaffirming his grasp on the basket. “Well, we won’t take up anymore of your time, my friend. I hope you have a Light blessed day.”
“You too, my King,” the Shopkeeper chuckled, reaching over and slapping Anevay’s ass as they turned away. “But I’m sure you already have.”
Anevay fingers twitched very briefly into fists before they were forcibly relaxed.
“Patience, my good man,” Anduin said plainly before making his way to the door, gesturing for Anevay to follow.
They stepped back into the bustling streets of Stormwind, catching the eyes of many as they passed. The men made no effort to hide their ogling of Anevay. The women sighed with envy at the sight of them both. It was quite invigorating for the young Wrynn. To be recognized alongside an attractive companion.
‘What a brilliant piece of poetic justice, my King,’ he could hear Onyxia purr.
‘You wanted what the Banshee had… and so you took it.’
Anduin smiled at that, and then just as quickly the smile fell. His gaze turned back to Anevay, who was simply nodding at the commoners they passed. No. That thought wasn’t exactly true. He didn’t have Anevay. Yet.
He stopped and set the basket down, turning to the elf behind him. “Give me your hand.” Anevay lifted her right hand to him, but it was slapped away. “The other hand.”
Anevay lifted her left hand, and internally she knew what he was about to do. She hoped he wouldn’t, but at this point any notion that the boy had restraint was gone. Sure enough, Anduin took her hand and pulled the wedding band off her finger, throwing it into the canal.
“You won’t be needing that anymore,” he said matter-of-factly.
Anevay’s heart sank.
“It’s for the best, you know,” Anduin said in response. “She knows you are here after all. We sent missives out to her. Saying we are open to negotiating for your release. She has responded to none of them. She has sent no messages of her own. No demands. Her armies have not even taken the offensive since you’ve been captured. My agents have reported no spies in our territories. She isn’t coming for you. She does not care. You’ve outlived your usefulness to her.”
‘I won’t believe your lies, rat!’
“You’re right, my King,” she was forced to say. “I’m better off without her.”
That pulled at something deep within Anevay. Words she would never utter under any circumstances, and she had to hear herself say them. Anduin had done a lot of horrible things to her since putting her under his control. He’d invaded her privacy, molested her, forced her to act like every bit the dainty noblewoman that her mother had tried to force her to be.
But that hurt her in a way she’d never been hurt before.
Anduin smiled at that. “You really are,” he said softly, lifting a hand to cup her cheek. “You are better off away from her. Away from the anger and hatred she taught you. You… you are better off here.”
Though she had no autonomy, her body still reacted to her very real emotions. The stress of being under his thumb twenty four hours a day, the horrible things he made her do and say, and the lingering question of why Sylvanas was taking so long to come for her made themselves known as her eyes welled up with tears. She wanted to jerk away from his hand. She wanted her freedom.
She wanted to see her wife again.
Through the blur of her tears, she saw a flicker of confusion and reflexive fear in Anduins’ eyes. As if on cue, the tendrils around her mind tightened, almost painfully.
“Oh, don’t cry,” he whispered, brushing a tear away with his thumb. “It’s alright. You never needed her anyway. You can make a better life for yourself here. You can be happy in Stormwind. With the Alliance. With my people.” He paused for a moment, his eyes darting to and fro as though he was deciding something. There was something left unsaid. Undone. A proverbial line that he had not yet crossed. She could see the question in his gaze. Does he dare cross it?
“...With me.”
‘I don’t want a life here. I want to see my Queen again ,’ Anevay thought as the tears slipped down her cheeks.
Anduin spoke as if he wasn’t keeping her a sealed prisoner in her own mind. As if she wanted to be here of her own volition. She’d never felt this helpless before, and she could do nothing. Not even scream.
Oh how she desperately wanted to scream.
“I would like that, my King,” she said.
Anduin’s smile widened. “I had a feeling you’d say that,” he whispered, the hand on her cheek pulling her closer.
‘Take your hand off me! Take your hand off me! Take your hand off me! Take your hand off me!’ Anevay screamed from within her prison. Was this what it had been like when Sylvanas was under Arthas’ control? She had once believed that Arthas simply used her as a soldier. But now?
She shuddered to think what Arthas might have done to her wife. What was happening to her right now, as Anduin’s lips suddenly pressed against her own.
She wanted to shriek in protest. She wanted to tear this disgusting man to shreds for violating her in such a way. She wanted to burn this entire damned city to the ground before running as far away as she could. But most of all… she just wanted her wife. She wanted Sylvanas to take her away from all of this. To make everything better, like she always did. She wanted to hear the soft, soothing murmurs of comfort from her ethereal voice as Anevay wept in her arms. She wanted to hold onto her in their bed, in the small little cottage they talked about, and be far away from all their problems forever.
Nathanos watched as Anduin led Anevay through the city. Her cooperation was extremely curious, and setting off all sorts of red flags. When Anduin kissed her without her resisting, however, that was when he knew something strange was going on. If there was one thing Anevay could be counted on not to do, it was cheat on Sylvanas. She loved the Dark Lady more than her own life.
No, this only confirmed that the boy had done something to her.
Nathanos and Alina followed through the shadows, remaining perfectly undetected by the oblivious Stormwind populace. As for the boy, he was too fixated on his prisoner to pay attention to his own six. Their luck came when Anduin ordered Anevay to wait while he went into the tailor’s shop. She waited just outside an alleyway, which the two Rangers dropped into and yanked her in by the neck.
“Alright, let me have a look at you,” Nathanos said, roughly turning Anevay to face him. Anevay’s face was deadpan and her gaze unfocused. The usually vibrant green of her Fel colored gaze was dull and lifeless. Worse even, her cheeks were wet with tears. Nathanos gave her cheek a tap, and she didn’t respond. He flicked at her eye and she didn’t respond. Then he jabbed her side with an arrow and she still didn’t respond.
Of course. The boy was a Priest after all.
“Mind control,” he growled. “He’s mind-controlled her.”
“By the Endless Dark,” Alina whispered breathlessly, looking at Anevay with abject horror on her face. A maelstrom of emotions burned in her blood red eyes. Disgust. Sorrow. Anger potent enough to catch the entire city aflame. Her jaw clenched so tightly, her molars were at risk of breaking. “...That bastard.”
Nathanos continued to look her over, and noticed that her ring hand was bare. “He’s taken her wedding band as well. Coupled with what we’ve seen, he’s keeping her as a consort.”
If Alina was still capable of retching, she probably would have. “So we grab her and get out of here!”
“This complicates things,” Nathanos explained. “We can’t haul her out while she’s still under control. She’s likely programmed to resist. We need to break it so she can escape with us. And for that we will need the Dark Lady.”
Alina felt the phantom nausea worsen. “We… we’re not leaving her here, are we?” she asked, an almost fearful tone in her voice. “We’re not going to abandon her. We can’t.”
“We knew this would be a long-term mission, Alina,” Nathanos said sharply. “We will have to return and inform the Dark Lady so we can begin planning our extraction. This was a scouting mission, you know that!”
“I know, but... “ Alina wavered, looking utterly distressed at the practically catatonic Anevay. It hadn’t been that long since the two of them managed to rekindle their friendship. Years after she so venomously turned her formerly betrothed away out of paranoia, she had never expected Anevay to forgive her. The fact that she did was something that she didn’t want to squander. When Nathanos was recruiting rangers for this mission, she enlisted without delay. She wanted to have a hand in bringing her back home.
Now she was being asked to walk away from her. In a very dangerous position. She accepted this as a possibility, but knowing it became a reality made the sickening feeling only worsen.
Nathanos wasn’t paying attention to her, however, and grabbed Anevay by the shoulders. “Darkflare, listen. We have to leave. We can’t take you with us. But we are planning your extraction. The precarious nature of our defenses means we cannot grab everything and come to Stormwind. But rest assured that we are planning to get you out. Sylvanas has not abandoned you.”
Despite her lifeless expression, Anevay was overjoyed. Sylvanas hadn’t forgotten about her. She was just delayed. They were actively planning her rescue, and had scouts watching her. Out of everything that had happened today, and likely would happen, this was the silver lining she was hoping for. Anevay’s lips twitched, and for the briefest moment managed to form a smile.
Nathanos caught it, offering her a slanted smile in return. “Just hold on in the meantime,” he said, clapping Anevay’s shoulder. “You’ll be back home soon. And Saurfang will suffer for his treachery.”
Nathanos retreated back up the wall, and Alina stepped forward. She gently laid a hand on Anevay’s shoulder, and leaned in to kiss her cheek. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be here to get you as soon as possible. I promise.” Then she too retreated back up the wall after giving her a nudge back out onto the street.
The relief Anevay felt was palpable. A fresh wave of tears cascaded down her cheeks. These ones of relief rather than despair. After months of uncertainty, of silence from her Queen. She finally had something. A solid foundation of hope she could hold onto during this nightmare. Sylvanas was coming for her. Her prayers were answered.
Sylvanas slowly lowered Nathanos’ scouting report, her hands quivering.
“And is this… accurate?” she asked slowly.
“Indeed it is, my Queen. The boy seems to be setting Darkflare up as a consort,” Nathanos explained. “He’s even disposed of her ring.”
Her entire body darkened, the unholy magics composing her very soul enveloping her form in a surge of emotions threatening to form into a wail. In turn, he darkness that wrapped around her made the raging inferno of her gaze all the clearer. Anevay was Anduin’s personal prisoner. He had her mind enthralled under shadow magic.
He made her his consort.
“...I am going to flay that boy,” she hissed, the haunting power behind her voice causing the room to shake despite her words being but a whisper. “Slowly. Bit by bit. I’ll let his skinned fingers and toes rot until the agony is too much to bear… and work my way up.”
“The boy is heavily protected in Stormwind, my Queen. Justice may have to wait until after Darkflare has been secured,” Nathanos warned her. “Besides, she would likely want to aid you in flaying the bastard. We are already working on contingencies to get Darkflare out from under his thumb, but there are only two measures at our disposal at the moment.”
“And what are they?” Sylvanas growled.
“You, of course. You’re the only one who can break this sort of spell,” Nathanos explained. “Alternatively… when Darkflare conquered Acherus, she also recovered the shards of Frostmourne. Were the blade in her possession, it’s latent death magic may prove a valuable shield against further attempts to snare her.”
Sylvanas’ eyes flared once more. The very thought of Frostmourne, the very weapon that made her what she is, being reforged by anyone, much less her own hands. It made her want to vomit. It made her want to reduce Nathanos to ashes with a wail for even considering it. But Anevay was in peril. She was subjected to a torment that was indescribable. Sylvanas knew that there was nothing she wouldn’t do to ensure her rescue and continued safety.
“...I will consider that option,” she said, rising from her throne. “We shall keep the shards secure in the meantime. How soon until we can move for Stormwind?”
“As soon as the extraction is planned, we can begin pulling a ship and finding adequate support,” Nathanos explained. “Generous guess… a month. Possibly two. This is an extremely delicate operation, and I have everyone possible working on it. We’re mapping out the boy’s routine as we speak.”
Sylvanas nodded curtly, taking great care not to blow up at the Ranger Lord over how a month isn't soon enough. That they had to rescue Anevay and remove that vile boy’s hold on her as quickly as possible.
“...I expect to be informed exactly when we are ready to depart,” Sylvanas said. “When next we move on Stormwind, we are not leaving without her.”
“I will inform you the second we are ready,” Nathanos nodded. “Trust me. I want to rescue her just as much as you do, my Queen. If I have to shove Frostmourne into her hand to do it, I will without a second’s hesitation.”
She fought against the urge to tear his throat out for uttering those words. “Understood,” she said simply.
Nathanos turned on his heel and strode out, eager to get back to work planning Anevay’s extraction, and leaving Sylvanas alone in the Royal Quarter to process everything. He was already painfully aware by this point that she kept her most visceral emotions hidden from anyone but her wife. Sylvanas’ rage did not ebb in the meantime. The promise of a plan of action did not change the fact that Anevay remained in enemy hands, being subjected to a fate worse than death. Something she could say with absolute certainty.
And that Sylvanas, for all her power over the dead, and the mantle of Warchief on her shoulders, was currently unable to save her. All she could do, while Nathanos formulated their plan of attack was wait. Ordinarily she considered herself a patient woman. The torment she endured in death and beyond having taught her that patience very well. However, over the past month, that patience had been worn thin. She didn’t want to wait anymore. She wanted to save her wife. She wanted to pull Anevay back into her arms and never let go.
But she couldn’t. All she could do was wait.
Jaina and Silysa stormed back into Stormwind Keep, completely livid. Word of Anduin’s dalliances with a blood elf woman had reached their ears and they immediately pieced together what was going on. Both of them were fuming. Anduin was supposed to be better than this, and here he was abusing a power he already shouldn’t have been using in the first place. And to such… puerile ends as well. It made Jaina’s stomach turn.
Silysa was just as livid. Anevay may have attacked her home, but she’d saved her people from extinction. She deserved better than to be forced to hang off the arm of a petulant child.
“Anduin Llane Wrynn!” Jaina shouted as they stormed into the Throne Room to see Anduin lounging on his throne while Anevay sat perched on the arm in a court gown that exposed her midsection. “What the fuck have you been doing?!”
Anduin flinched visibly, suddenly righting himself on his throne and looking at Jaina with confusion and a trickle of fear. “Jaina? Is… is something wrong?”
“Is something wr-?” The incredulity on the mage’s face was accented by the flaring of arcane in her eyes. “Are you serious!? Are you truly going to look me in the eye and feign ignorance in the face of… that!?” She pointed emphatically to Anevay, who did not visibly respond to her outburst.
Anduin turned to look at the Blood Elf. “Oh. Right. Well… she isn’t in need of her armor at the present time, so-”
“Anduin,” Silysa interjected sharply, her tone less bombastic than Jaina’s but no less furious. “What is this we’ve been hearing about Darkflare becoming your consort?”
Anduin only shrugged. “Rumors. You know how the public can be. I took her with me on a walk a few times and they extrapolated from there.”
“Then why is she perched on the arm of your throne like a courtesan?” Silysa demanded.
“Well I am not about to have her stand the whole time while I am performing my duties,” Anduin said dismissively. “That would just be cruel.”
“And the dress!?” Jaina pressed, pointing at the revealing dress Anevay was wearing.
Anduin looked the blood elf up and down for a moment. “It’s hardly anything scandalous,” he said. “I seem to recall you dressing very similarly in the past, Auntie.”
Jaina’s eyes were blazing with mana, her hand nearly shattering her staff with how hard she was clenching it.
Silysa stepped between them, glaring daggers and Anduin. “You know, High King, it’s not a good look to just admit that you used to leer at your Auntie when we suspect you’ve been molesting a woman under your control.”
Anduin blinked, realization dawning on his face. “That… that’s not what I meant!” he insisted, an embarrassed flush spreading across his cheeks.
“It’s what came across,” Silysa said with a huff.
“Anduin, if you think we’re going to be pacified by weak denials, you’re sorely mistaken,” Jaina glared.
Anduin let out an exasperated sigh. “Look, I understand that you two are perturbed by the rumors flying about, but I assure you that nothing of the sort is happening,” he said plainly. “I am simply keeping Darkflare close by to ensure that nothing goes wrong.”
“And what has the Warchief said in regards to negotiating her release?” Silysa asked.
“So far, she has not responded to any of our missives,” Anduin said.
Jaina’s brow furrowed and she glanced at Silysa. They had a lot of unkind things to say about Sylvanas, but it was made very clear at the Gathering just how much she loved Anevay. She wouldn’t tolerate her being held captive for a second, let alone a few months.
“No response whatsoever?” Jaina asked. “What about a rescue?”
“Horde forces have not budged from their territories since Lordaeron,” Anduin responded plainly. “And Shaw has reported no attempted infiltrations. No hostile action has been taken to retrieve Darkflare.”
“Then she’s of no use to us,” Jaina shrugged. “She’s not the key hostage you thought she was, so there’s no point keeping her around.”
“Not necessarily,” Anduin countered. “Perhaps she serves no purpose as a hostage, but keeping her here means that Sylvanas is still without her greatest weapon. In the time she has been unable or unwilling to act, we have been able to reinforce our position and bolster our forces. Keeping her here is nonetheless doing wonders for the Alliance.”
“Are you reading different reports?” Jaina balked. “The Horde has been increasing its navy and reaching out to the Zandalari Empire for support. They’ve gone as far as to pull Mag’har from Draenor and the Highmountain. The Horde is recruiting en masse and putting a further stranglehold on the Alliance! Our trade routes are being cut off one by one! We’re being choked to death while you sit here playing house with a prisoner!”
Anduin’s brow furrowed at that. “As opposed to what, exactly, Jaina? Letting the woman with the powers of a Titan run back to the Horde? You think that will improve our position any? I assure you that things would only get worse if we let her go.”
“That doesn’t-”
“Where’s her ring?” Silysa asked, approaching Anevay and taking her ring hand. “Her wedding ring, it’s gone. What have you done with it?”
Anduin’s eye followed Silysa’s movement. A flicker of some fleeting emotion crossed his face before he thought to school it. “Oh that? I… hadn’t noticed that it was missing. It must have been misplaced somewhere.”
“Where? How?” Jaina pressed. “She can only do what you command her to!”
Anduin exhaled through his nostrils in a show of growing irritation. “Perhaps when she was changing at some point?” he shrugged. “I cannot remember every little movement she makes, Jaina. I still have a kingdom to rule and can sometimes get distracted. Things can happen.”
“Anduin, her ring was enhanced specifically to NOT be misplaced,” Silysa frowned. “The only way it would be is if you ordered her to take it off, or took it off yourself. So where is it?”
“Why is there all this fuss over a ring?” Anduin huffed.
“Because it’s important to her, and the fact that it’s gone is very telling,” Silysa scowled.
“Well it sounds to me,
Champion , that you are making a great many accusations based solely on conjecture,” Anduin challenged, rising from his seat. “And for that matter, how do you even know her ring is enchanted in such a way?”
“Because she told me!” Silysa replied sharply.
“Really?” Anduin arched a brow. “The woman who feigned friendship with you up until it was time to attack your home and killed your leader told you something and you chose to take it at face value? You’re choosing to defend her autonomy when the blood of your people is on her hands? I must say that is remarkably priest-like compassion coming from you.”
“Anevay was my friend long before she was in the Banshee’s service, and we were on good terms until the war,” Silysa scowled. “And she saved my people from extinction. This? This is absolutely vile behavior. And you know? I never noticed before just how much you look like Arthas Menethil.”
Anduin’s eyes widened, appearing genuinely blindsided by Silysa’s remake. Incredulity was swiftly replaced with anger, his jaw flexed and his hands clenched into fists. “You are out of line, Champion,” he said, fighting to keep his tone even.
“And you’ve been out of line for the last month!” Silysa spat, advancing on Anduin. “I’ve taken Anevay in duels, you think I’m scared of you, boy?!”
Jaina opened her mouth to say something when a sudden action stunned her into silence. A hand came up to press against Silysa’s chestplate, halting her advance. It was Anevay’s hand.
“Step away, please,” she said, her dull green eyes directed vaguely in Silysa’s direction.
Silysa glanced at Anevay, then turned a glare toward Anduin. “Really? Using your mind-controlled slave for this?” She asked, gently pushing Anevay’s hand aside.
“Do you wish to join her?” Anduin challenged.
Jaina’s eyes widened, her heart leaping in her throat. “...You wouldn’t dare!”
“If she threatens me again, I will,” Anduin countered. “Trust me. I can control two people at once.”
“You so much as graze my wife with your foul magic, and you’ll be pulling spikes from your chest!” Jaina seethed, stepping between them, her eyes glowing brightly with frost magic. The threat was enough to unsettle Anduin, who met her viscous gaze with bewilderment and a sliver of hurt.
“...Unbelievable,” he said quietly shaking his head. “You’re both getting so defensive over a woman who would sooner kill you both if she had the chance.”
“It’s called having principles, Anduin!” Silysa scowled. “We’re not the Banshee. We don’t torture people for fun! And we don’t abide it either!”
“Pacification is not torture,” Anduin said plainly. “And I have better things to do than argue in circles with you both about it. Unless you can sway the Alliance leadership to see things your way, Darkflare is staying as she is. That is final.”
He flicked his fingers, silently ordering Anevay to follow him out of the Throne Room. Silysa lifted her bow and drew an arrow, aiming directly for the back of his head.
“Nobody would know,” she whispered. “Nobody.”
Jaina put a hand on her arm and lowered it. “You know Sylvanas is planning a rescue.”
Silysa nodded and glanced down at her wife. “She definitely is. I don’t buy that crap about her abandoning Anevay for a minute.”
“I want you to stay here. When they come to rescue her, help them,” Jaina said firmly. “Anevay doesn’t deserve this. She’s the only one in the Horde with a scrap of a soul.”
Silysa nodded again. “Yeah. She talked the Banshee down from genocide. Anyone else would have stood by and silently judged. She actually took action. Against her wife.”
Jaina ran a hand up and down Silysa’s arm. She remembered the night she arrived in Stormwind after they lost Darnassus. She held the weeping Kaldorei in her arms as she tried to navigate the complexity of her own emotions. So much of it was centered around Darkflare. Anger over the bloodshed conflicting with gratitude for Darkflare’s mercy. To this day, though she knew their friendship to be in shambles, she was still unsure what to truly feel regarding the Blood Elf.
“She’ll be safe back home before this is over,” Jaina assured her. “Just stay here and keep an eye on her until then.”
Silysa turned her gaze back towards her wife. “Where will you be?”
Jaina was quiet for a moment, trying not to notice the sudden concern in Silysa’s eyes. “...It is as we discussed,” she said plainly. “It is time we bring Kul Tiras back into the Alliance.”
Silysa nodded and shouldered her bow, turning and pulling Jaina into her arms. “Be safe. I don’t want to come out of a rescue needing to go into another one, ya hear?”
“I know,” Jaina smiled, snuggling under Silysa’s chin.
“Kene’thil surfas ,” Silysa whispered softly into her ear.
Jaina exhaled slowly, letting the gentle cadence of her wife’s words soothe her. “I love you too,” she whispered in kind, running a hand up and down Silysa’s back. “As long as the stars do shine.”
Silysa sighed softly and squeezed Jaina tighter. With how much this war had overturned everything, she knew this would always be a safe place for her. Jaina meant everything to her, and she always would.
Anduin slammed the door to his quarters shut, silently ordering Anevay to sit on his bed. “I’m the High King of the Alliance, and I’ve got random foot soldiers openly challenging me?! It’s bad enough your Banshee taskmaster is threatening my people with annihilation, I need my own turning on me over how to handle a prisoner?!”
‘Reap what you sow, lionson.’
“That’s horrible, my King,” Anevay droned.
“It is!” Anduin shouted, pacing back and forth in his chambers. “With how they were acting, you’d think I was shoving the Blight down orphans’ throats! As though keeping you here is in any way comparable to everything Sylvanas has done! Everything
you have done for that matter!”
“Completely different, my King,” Anevay said, with an unnatural lilt to her voice.
“They’re acting like I’ve already crossed some horrible line, but you’re happy here, aren’t you?” Anduin asked, turning around to face her.
“Of course, my King.”
‘Oh no…’
That brought a reassured smile to Anduin’s face. A moment later he moved to sit beside Anevay on the bed. “I knew you would be,” he said, his voice suddenly gentle as he cupped her cheek. Something that most might consider comforting if not for the reality of Anevay’s situation. “They don’t see this like we do. They don’t understand that things are better this way.”
“Of course, my King. They’re short-sighted and painfully sentimental,” Anevay said. She took a certain degree of internal pride at managing to say something that wouldn’t have sounded strange coming out of Sylvanas’ lips.
Except for the ‘my King’ part. And her skin crawled whenever she was forced to say that.
“I knew you’d see things my way,” Anduin sighed as his hands slipped down to untie Anevay’s dress.
Anevay's stomach twisted into knots. She'd known this was coming, but that didn't make it any more bearable. Especially not when she knew that this wasn't going to be like when she was captured by the Amani. She knew Anduin was going to force her to be an active participant. And that made everything worse.
‘Sylvanas, where are you?’
Series this work belongs to:
