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Asch was sitting in a warm cave with Thunders while their husbands went out hunting with the clan, Finnik and Asch were guests of the Frostwolves and Thrall had them stay close. Thunders was sitting snugly by the fire, nursing Thrall's third son, Phera.

 

The Warchief had been busy with his wife, her belly poked under the furs and Asch touched her own flat stomach, Thunders notices and giggles. "They will come, do not fear" Asch doubted that, showing it upon her face. Thunders shifts, and pretty purple skin hidden by her dress is revealed, a funny looking marking pasted on her belly. Asch tilts her head, blinking, "what is that there?" Thunders looks down, holding her son steady. "Oh! This?" The Nightelf pulls her robes down further, exposing a brown circle with symbols. Left was a small flame, the top was wind, the bottom was water, the right earth and in the middle of her stomach was a symbol for a lightening bolt.


"You'll think it's silly," she says while putting her son in the furs. "It's a blessing all Shamen paste on their mates, it's suppose to bring fertility...." Thunders runs her hands over it lovingly. "It must work, I've been given three boys!" Asch blinks, the ink looks washable, easily taken off. The brown contrasted the elves skin, but the mere fact of its being made Asch feel strange and jealous. Finnik was a Shamen too, he had never done such a thing. "It's to bring babes? When do you put it on?" Thunders fixes her robes back in place and answers with a cheery smile, "before we make love, Thrall draws the ink on, he's asking the elements to bless our coupling and quicken my womb. Now he just asks for another healthy babe." Thunders leans toward her, a sly smile, "he's wants a boy but I can ask the elements of things as well- I want a girl!" Her giggling only makes Asch frown more.

Finnik has never once tried this when they made love, Asch has tried Bloodelf remedies, herbs and salves, nothing has worked so far. Thunders didn't seem to notice her cloudy mood as the horns blew, the hunt has returned. The Wintersaber behind Thunders picks it's massive head up at the noise, looking lazily at the thin mouth of the cave, licking his teeth. Silver has been with Thunders for many years, though the Saber was young still it had aged with knowledge. Asch had been only recently chosen by one of the Frostwolf Cubs, the little beast was tripping on his paws and yipping at the entrance as the hunters passed. Asch had chosen Havoc as a fitting name for the creature.

When Thrall and Finnik returned they were smiling and boisterous, hauling a massive stag to the back of the cave "my love!" Thunders beckons as they place the beast on the table. Asch watches as the two embrace, politely because of their guests. Finnik chuckles warmly, washing his hands in a clay bowl full of water while watching them. Yellow-Ear saunters in with Snowsong, both wolves have their luscious chest fur and muzzles covered in pink from blood, Havoc yips and prances toward them. "I'll be back in the morning to help you skin the beast." Finnik says, Asch gathers herself, knowing that he wanted to part. to give Thrall and his wife the privacy.

The other Orc claps his hand on Finnik's shoulder, telling him to get rest and have a warm night. Thunders says a small goodbye and Asch shares it, Finnik ushers her out with his wolf not far behind, Havoc cradled in her massive jaw.

Asch's frown sets deep as they enter their cave, Finnik notices and tilts his head "what's wrong?" Finnik was a handsome man, Orc he may be but very pleasing to look at. His jaw was set and covered in a black beard, short and kept nice, it extended beside his ears and up to his matching hair. Finnik kept his hair long and in a fox tail, with two long trails that were threaded with feathers and beads, braided nice and tied simply. His eyes were a shade of blue, Asch could never tell which blue, they always seemed to change from laser to sky, then cobalt to ice. Right now they were warm and deep, like an ocean. His tusks were kept sharp, silver rings were cut through them and placed around, much like the matching earrings he wore on his tall ears.


Asch never thought she would marry an Orc, a Bloodelf was suppose to marry another Bloodelf, and have pretty babies. Not an Orc. Asch was peachy skinned and green eyed, pale snow hair and had a perky nose. She was small compared to her husband, his arm was bigger then her torso, but that hadn't stopped her from loving him. Though, she was angry with him now.

Asch huffs, staring at him with squinting eyes, Finnik holds his hands out to her, but she arches away. "Thrall places a blessing on Thunders' womb every time they make love- she says it's a Shamen thing. Why don't you?" Finnik looks shocked, then confused and strange all at once, as if he doesn't understand her question. "What?" He manages through winded surprise, Asch narrows her eyes further and props her hand on her hip, "I know you know what I mean Finnik! It's a fertility symbol! Why don't you do it to me?! Don't you want me having your babies?!" Finnik stares at her with big eyes, those blue beautiful eyes, he stumbles over his words before whispering: "you... Want to have m-my babies...?"


Asch ignores his question and throws her hands up, "it probably doesn't even work does it? But the mere fact you didn't think to do it makes me upset! You don't want a family do you?" Again, Finnik's expression continues to spiral into deeper confusion and he asks the same again, "you... You really want my babies?" Asch scowls deeply. "Of course I do! What did you think I wouldn't? I'm not barren or too small- if that's what you're worried about! I can carry an Orc child! I married a Clan leader- I know what that means you know! You need an heir!" Asch was steaming, almost yelling at him as she ended her rant.

Whether or not Asch wanted a baby was out of her control, she had to have one so Finnik's clan had another leader, that was her duty, like her mother always said. Spread your legs and breed, little one. It's your duty as a wife to give your husband sons. Asch had been told this before, she knew it was expected of her, even more then it would have, now she was married to an important man. Her mother would be proud if she knew, disgusted by the fact he was an Orc, but still proud. Bloodelves crave status and power, Asch didn't much. Finnik has given her the ear of the Warchief and great standing. Though he was an Orc, her father would say power was power. Asch does not believe her father would be pleased with Finnik.

"I... I didn't think you..." He was slow, like his brain was catching up. "That you... I'm an Orc..." Asch snorts at this "I know that! What of it?" Finnik stares at her as if she was crazy "it's one thing to marry an Orc... You're a Bloodelf, their babies aren't... Orcs" Asch's mouth hangs open, then snaps shut. Finnik thought...

"Finnik Hellhammer I married you because I like Orcs! Do you think I'd hate our baby because it might look like you?!" There was shame ghosting his face and Asch knew without him saying it that it was exactly his thought. Orcs may not be the most attractive when compared to Bloodelves, but if she wanted to marry her own kind her father would have saw to it. Finnik was quiet, probably embarrassed by himself and his foolish words. Asch sighs, softening a little, "I married a silly man." Finnik perks up as she walks toward him and touches his face with soft fingers, cupping his cheeks. "This is why you're so afraid to fill my womb? That a pretty Bloodelf shouldn't be reduced to carry an Orc baby?" She makes a tisking sound and runs her thumb across his furry cheek, ruffling his groomed beard. "I want to give you litters Finnik, our babies will be as handsome as their father, as strong too. Let me give you sons." Finnik looks dizzy from her words, but bounces back with a deep growl and picks her up in one swift motion.


Asch gasps as shes picked off the ground like nothing. Finnik grabs her bottom in his hands and squeezes the flesh, carrying her to the big bed full of furs. She's dropped with playful roughness, his gaze unblinking and lustful. Asch yips as her dress is pushed upward roughly with his hands, "my pretty mate." Finnik says lovingly, smelling her skin and kissing her belly, "stay put." He says before vanishing into the room.

"You want my baby? I'll give it to you pretty elf." Finnik rips the silky dress and throws the remnant on the cave floor. His other hand is poised to paint with the clay like paste. It was artful and felt warm, her pink belly was marred with the funny substance and Finnik muttered a few prays in Orcish before smiling devilishly at Asch. His fingers rub between her folds, running slick and easy, "so wet." Asch whimpers as his fingers probe.


It didn't take long for Finnik to find himself atop her, thrusting his cock between her thighs and sucking lewd marks into her flesh. "N-Not where they can s-see." She moans helplessly, arching her neck into his preying mouth. Asch was thrashing about under him, moaning and shaking as he fucks into her with abandon, her little hips try and match him, but Finnik traps her, forcing her still. She protests, trying harder, but the little elf is no match for him, so she whines and nips his skin. Finnik snarls, ripping himself away from Asch before flipping her onto her belly. Asch gasps as he pushes his full length back inside her, his wide hands forcing her hips up to him. Asch's back was bowed harshly, Finnik's hips jolt her forward and Asch shivers with pleasure.

Her mother had promised pain from this, warned her to be good and wait for her husband to finish. Finnik never finished without her and he never hurt her. Finnik always assured her pleasure over his own. Orcs were savage and carnal in their couplings, Asch's body was used and spent each time Finnik had his way, but it didn't feel like what her mother described. It didn't feel like he was taking what was rightfully his, not abusing her body for his pleasure and need. It felt like they were one, that he was sharing with her. Asch felt equal, even as he bent her over like a dog and held her down with a firm hand. Asch could easily break free and have Finnik beneath her, he would surly enjoy the sight of his little mate in his lap but Asch liked the warm feeling of his body looming over her.

Wives of Orcs were equal to each other in their culture, in estate and titles, what Finnik was, Asch was as well. She was granted wife of the clan, named so and commanded the respect. If Asch had married one of her own, she would have been the wife of them and her estate would be flooded into his.

Asch had been given power she had no idea how to wield, but Thunders had said it wasn't pertinent she need too. Much like her own culture, it would be Finnik who would do it for her, though it was nice to have the choice. So Asch was content with her power as she was pressed to the sheets and rammed into. Finnik was rough with her, but it never hurt. Hopefully soon, with much vigor and Shamen spells, she would be clan mother and carry their first baby.

Finnik's breath was ragged and short, "I want to have you all night" he whispers into her ear, tugging the tip. Asch jolts, a straggled noise escaping her gaping mouth. Her eyes were half lidded and cloudy as Finnik lewdly swipes his tongue along her spine, the familiar burn in her stomach coming back as he thrusts deeper. Petting her hip with his hand, slowly moving to tease her cunt with the blunt of his finger.

"H-Harder! Deeper! Please!" She babbles, Finnik's finger swirls around her nub, humming. "Too hard and I'll break you" his voice was strained, but he chuckles anyway. Asch thrashes, head shaking, wiggling her hips into him. Finnik's cock shoves deeper inside, but his pace doesn't grow, Asch huffs angrily. Finnik could hurt her, she knew that danger when she met him. Knows it now as he's on top of her. She can't help but tingle at the thought, no male elf could, no matter how rough, they could never hurt her like an Orc might. Finnik was a powerhouse of bulky muscle and strength. Orcs were built for abuse and tremendous labors. Bloodelves were dainty, even men. Asch wasn't suppose to like rough and harsh sex, she was soft and sweet, certainly not suppose to get sweaty and have muck painted on her pretty skin. Mother would hate Finnik, she knew it with all her being. Daddy would roll over and die if he heard his baby girl liked being fucked on her belly like a bitch in heat.

Daddy would try and kill Finnik when they met, but the two had to meet at some point. Asch couldn't pretend they didn't exist. Her brother Eli might be harsh, probably fight with Finnik. Finnik would go easy on him, because now her stupid brother was his family and Orc's treasure family. No matter how foolish. Asch enjoyed the simplistic nature of Orc's, they took care of one another and loved the earth. Bloodelves were tricky and underhanded, it was exhausting to deal with the politics. Orc's were straightforward, they fight, they make up, foulness forgotten. Bloodelves never forget slights, no matter how small. Asch's neighbor still scowls at her, because Asch had stepped on flowers. Asch paid for the replacement and apologized, but that doesn't matter to elves.

Asch would be tired and sore tomorrow, but she had been today as well, she cornered Finnik each chance she got, because they wouldn't get to when they arrived in Silvermoon. Daddy might not even let them sleep in the same room. Asch hoped not. Orc men get uneasy when their mates aren't by their side, at least from past experiences they don't. Asch knows Finnik is snappy when she isn't around, she tempers him as he likes to praise, keep him stable and in tune with the elements.

Finnik would be restless in a bed without her and be snappy because of sleepless nights. He has been before when she couldn't be with him, Thrall says he's near insufferable, but Thrall is the same way. All Orcs must be. Thunders says so too. Asch hasn't met many other wives to confirm her theory further.


Asch gasps loudly as Finnik picks her up and holds her too him. Growling in her ear, Asch crashes with him, feeling his cock throb and gush inside her, cupping her belly.

Xxx

Finnik rode close to her on Yellow-ear as Asch held the reins of her Hawkstrider. Thrall and Thunders had let them part, they were close to Silvermoon now and Finnik became grumpy. "They aren't that awful," Asch huffs, knowing it didn't matter to him. Finnik gives her a long stare before answering, "liar. Your father might think I'm your guard but we have to tell them. They will be awful." Asch bit her lip, her father didn't know about their marriage, he wouldn't like it anyway and call it fake. Without the papers or proof, Finnik and Asch weren't married by Bloodelf standards. Though their union was very real to Trolls, Orcs, Tauran and Forsaken, her father would scoff and say that getting married by a Shamen surrounded by dirt could hardly count as an actual ceremony, dismissing the whole thing.

Asch was worried, Finnik took her virginity the night they married, her father would be furious since he'd consider her unmarried. He would say horrible things to him and call Asch a whore. He had done so before to her little sister Vela, after she had only kissed the bread makers boy. Asch had later found out through her giggling sister that he had not only just kissed her. Asch had giggled with her, knowing the boy was harmless and out for her sisters best interest, but having no estate Vela couldn't marry him. Father wouldn't allow it and seek out a better match, unknowing Vela was spoiled. Asch's father had tried with her many times, desperately trying too get her too marry, he could make the match, but could not force her to say yes.

It frustrated him, so much in fact that he had grown to disregard his first daughter. Donating his time to Eli instead, also forgoing Vela for being a lost cause and a whore, so he says. Eli was his golden child, blond and sculpted. Eli never disappointed their father, but still loved his sisters, sometimes even attempting to quell their fathers rage when wrought against either sister, usually it worked. Asch was certain when she bought her Orc husband into the mix to meet her dear parents that Eli's skill against their father would not work in the slightest.

Silvermoon was dazzling, colored in bright pearl whites and lavish sheer silks, from deep blood reds to velvet purple. Asch was always taken by it, Finnik was scowling harshly at everything that passed him. The wolf her husband was riding looked as uneasy as her master. Asch tuts, sighing while looking at him, "please my love, we'll get through this." Finnik snorts, "maybe." He still looks fowl "thank gods I didn't get you pregnant. They'd have my head." Asch puckers and straightens, hiding no anger she felt for his statement.

By the sheepish gulp, he knew as well. "Asch... you know what they would say." Asch did. They would say it was rape and make a huge seen, shame Finnik and possibly disown her.

Her home was the biggest in the district, her guards greeted her, ushering them inside. "I'll take your mounts," Asch gave him the reins of her Hawkstrider, while Finnik snarls. "She is no mount!" The guard upturns his nose, "the wolf cannot go inside." Finnik juts his jaw, "Yellow, off be back by sun down." The wolf would find a place to sleep, Asch watched her trail off with simple twitch of her tail and Finnik stood tall by Asch's side. "Is Eli home?" The guard smiles lightly, "yes, the young master is in the flower grounds with Lady Vela." Asch smiles, looking at Finnik. "Let's go see them, come." Asch tugs him, knowing by heart the way. Finnik loved nature as a Shaman, Asch could feel his shoulders relaxing as they cut through the trees and flowers.

Asch perked up when she saw the black fluffed hair of her sister peaking out of a cherry tree. "Vela!" Finnik let her go and sauntered quietly behind as the other girl jumped up, flowers of all color in her bushy hair "Asch?" Vela gasps, "Eli, Asch is home!" Another elf emerges, hair full of blossoms, winding around his long pale hair. "And she's brought ah- she's brought someone!" Vela comes to her sister, hugging her tightly, Finnik stays close behind. Asch looks at him, flushed cheeks and pretty smile. "Eli, Vela this is my husband. Finnik Hellhammer." The two look at him with the same wide green eyes, blinking at his frame like they had never seen an Orc. Maybe that was true, maybe the two had never. Yet, they surprised him and smiled, Vela giggling "my, we thought she'd never." Eli says teasingly "a mysterious adventurer is he?" Eli chuckles warmly, "Asch said she was always going to marry an adventurer." Asch colors brightly at this, Finnik eases, offering a smile himself. "I am, in fact I found her on one of many exploits. Caught in a tree." Eli goads him into telling the full story, completely revealing in his little sisters embarrassment.

"And she doesn't drive you crazy?" Finnik sits on the stones, "of course not."

Chapter Text

Asch's plump lips parted, the sweat caked against her brow, clothes tattered and hair matted. Her own breath was loud, crackling along the fire. Each breath was a labor, her fingers tingled, drained raw. Her magic was wasted, exhausted from the fight.

 

 

"Stormwind owes you a great debt," a deep, proud voice booms behind her back, Asch stares, teeth clinched, staring wide milky sliver eyes at the smoking, melted rocks that was once a crucial part of the city. The guards and people alike still trying to control the fires, trying desperately to avoid the chasms. Nobles helped the poorest of the proud stone capital, cleaning the rubble and sharing bread, rations and tired smiles.

 

 

They had won. For now.

 

 

"Owes me nothing. This isn't my home." She came from the life tree, the deep beautiful city of Dranassus, it was saved from the onslaught of the destroyer, surely the life tree would be set ablaze, helpless Nightelves forced to flee and watch their queen do the same, helpless to halt the burn. The beautiful lush burned right through, a mound of wounded earth bare to the world, once the home. Where would they go if not for mistake of Deathwing.

 

The deep voice laughed, the king, homely and true, "you're this cities healer. Your home as much as mine." Expect Varian built it, with his wife. Made it into a glorious monument to the Alliances power, sheltering all who stood under its banner.

 

Asch let Varian's work burn to the ground, let people be consumed by the falling pearl stone and die because her shields weren't long enough to reach them.

 

Her fingers twitched, throbbed from severe burns, terrible welts that would leave marks on her lavender skin. "Come" the King touched her arm, cool against her heated skin, over heated skin. The fires were intense.

 

"You need to eat, sleep and tomorrow accept a great honor, one few possess." The lions talon, stripped off the Kings crowning kill. Tradition was for each king to kill a game lion, Varian had spent months long until he returned. The pelt was stripped and used in his wedding bed, given to his wife and the bones were crafted into armor and swords, to give to his most trusted. The lions talon would grant her clemency from the Horde, if she were stupid enough to be caught. Any who hold the talon present it to any under Horde banner and are granted immediate audience with their Warchief.

 

Both sides, Horde and Alliance agreed this was a fair channel, those owner of the trinket were safely returned home, both believing in the importance of the person. No harm would be done to them. Asch didn't know what the Horde used, Thrall had never given one out, that she knew of, nor did Varian ever approve or oversee the ceremony, she was the first in hundreds of years.

 

Asch did not care for the honor, her place was at the side of the King, if she dare explore the kingdoms she wouldn't venture where the talon would be useful to her. It was invaluable to those who did venture, if the holder wasn't set through the proper channels it was an act of war that the offended party was allowed to act upon. The Alliance and Horde were always at a perfect stand still.

 

 

The morning came with the bleats of trumpets and finicky maids, the King had a seamstress create something for her. It was pale white, the maids let her look at it hanging from the mirror, white and ivory. A crown of leaves from her home land trees sat delicately upon a pillow of lush silk. The boots were long, knee high and given a tall heel, Asch had never walked in a heel before. She didn't wish for this award, but she dare not look a fool while receiving it.

 

The gown had a long train, lions dancing in pearl along the edges, Asch slipped out of her simple night dress and waited for the maids to dress her. Humans weren't very tall, they used stools and the dress didn't touch the ground until it slid on her. It hid all her indecencies, but the white mesh didn't hide her skin, it wasn't suppose too.

 

Another girl, plain faced and brown eyed set to her hair, threading sugar blooms, falcon feathers and beads to hold them in place. They didn't weigh anything when her hair was finally dropped, flowing free. the deep purple swayed and tickled the small of her back through the tight netted fabric. Some of the girls helping out her put herself together marveled at the sight of her, as if she was Elune herself. Asch felt strange, she was used to robes and dresses, but this felt wrong. Like someone was dressing her as a bride for a wedding. It made her face burn when the guards came for her, their faces were hidden but the sound of their armor halt squeaking as they flinch after looking at her. It was no secret that human men liked the exotic looks of Draenei and Nightelves. Asch was also no exception to their lust, she knew this and their eyes stayed on her, as if she couldn't see them gawking like fools.

 

"Come my lady, the King awaits" the first said, the other stuttered like an imbecile.

 

The white pillars stood proud, two arm lengths apart, each had a long cloth banner wound around it, blue with a gold trim. The hall was stuffed full of people, King Varian stood at the throne, the party around his was colorful as it was diverse. Her own queen stood at his right, Tyrande Whisperwind was beautiful, smiling like a mother would at her own children's accomplishments, and in kind Thrall stood, wearing much the same as he did in battle, absent the hulking Doomhammer he possessed.

 

The Warchief's shoulders were tight as he looked at her, bright Aqua eyes bore into her with purpose, sizing her as if to call off the honor. It surprised Asch as he softly smiled, bowing his head to her, an honor itself. The Shaman King is heard to be gracious with his friends and immortal to his enemies. Asch blinks at him, before smiling faintly, sharing in the secret joy as others paid them no mind.

 

 

"Today we present the lions talon to the savior of the Alliance!" Asch hardly held a scoff and a snarky retort of how that couldn't be true, the King was boisterous, smiling despite the impending horror and war looming upon them, Asch reminded herself this was a happy occasion.

"She shielded our city, faced the destroyer himself and forced him to flee by her own hand! Too you Asch Greendeer!" Many cheered as the Archmage Khadgar etched the magic symbols, allowing the glow to seep through his fingertips, his pale hand looked askew by the magic, such as most that practiced the disciplines of arcane. It passed to Varian, equally looking odd as it flamed to life with blue, then Thrall took it with a pluck of green fingers, red sprung between the digits and the Warchief watched the colors dance. White, blue and red coloring his hand and flashing on his face. Asch watched Thrall.

 

 

His brow seeped into his eye line, before snapping up, he was watching her.

 

"My lady Greendeer," his rough, grounded voice sounds loud, another secret smile. Asch listened with her long ears as he padded forward with far more grace then an Orc should possess, hardly heard and much like her own people. The big hand hung in the air, flatted, save for twitching meaty digits. Asch carefully swept the talon up, Thrall staring into her blank eyes as she did his raging blue.

 

"My home is yours," his voice was low, so low that Varian and none others caught the sound of him even speaking, instead they erupted into cheers and hoots, excited for the hero feast and the celebrations. Many needed it, to forget, to drink. To drink to forget. Asch was one of those very people.

 

 

The party was in full swing, Asch watched from the side of the King all the dancing and laughing, putting on a face and smiling until it hurt her cheeks. All while drowning her misery in harsh, dry liquid. Varian wasn't paying her attention, he hadn't noticed how grim her fake smiles really were, what her laugh really showed. He paid no heed to her as she grabbed a far too full cup of wine and sauntered off, wobbling down the stairs to somewhere dark, where none would look, none would see her cry.

 

One did notice and begun to follow soundlessly.

 

Asch's head was too clear for her liking, no matter how much she forced down. Nightelves were resistant to human liquor, it made her stomach churn, bread from hours ago felt like a lead weight as she carelessly slipped out of the party, finding some dusty underused room. A guest bed for visiting nobles, the wine slopped on the floor and lumped with the dust, making a gooey puddle Asch didn't care about.

 

The priest sighs loudly, the talon caught between her breasts, the train of white cloth caught around her legs, she pulled at it, trying best to untangle it without damage. It only served to frustrate her more as it continued to weave uncooperative.

 

A snorting laugh caught her attention, more wine spills, splashing some sheet covered chair and staining the pale fabric with deep red, "quite the trap is it?" The voice belonged to Thrall, Asch stood pathetically, twisted in her own dress, dryly staring at his smug look and crossed arms, like he was mocking a child.

 

Asch turns herself, turning the fabric tighter to her legs, pitching the skin. His hair was simpler now, braided without the metal bangles and his clothes were simpler, armor hiding away with wherever his Doomhammer was.

 

"Stop twisting little elf, let me help," his steps were soundless again, Asch let him close, holding her arms away from her hips as he went about trying to figure out the mess. What was dress and what was train. His hands weren't shy, they carefully pulled the fabric away, Asch could feel the dress loosen. Suddenly it dawned on her how warm those hands truly were, they weren't hot like the fires of Deathwing, but cozy and heated, like a lovers embrace. Her thoughts stopped there as his head of black hair came up and his eyes were on her again, proud smile upon his chiseled face.

 

"You're free, my lady." The comment made her laugh, he bowed comically forward, thick braids brushing the floor. "Free" Asch toyed with the word, pruning her lips, then as he rose up again. Asch let herself spin, the heavy fabric of her skirt dusting his feet and ankles, Thrall hummed out his laughter. "Much to much to drink have you, little elf?" The warm green hand stole away her wine and brought it to his own lips, drinking full two gulps and setting the now empty cup aside in a filthy table full of dust, almost disturbing it up into the air.

 

"You just wanted it" Asch found her good humor coming back each time his smile grew, finding that she wanted to pull fits of laughter from the Orc in kind. Thrall smirked at the teasing.

 

"You let me have it" he baited.

 

"Did I?" She adds.

 

Thrall nods confidently, easily finding the chair next to the table, settling down among the caking dust without a care. "I took it, you didn't ask for it back." His logic was correct, Asch scowled playfully, sitting herself into the opposite chair, the dress be dammed. "You stole you mean?" Her words came out as a scornful mother, chiding a child, but Thrall seemed urged on rather then reprimanded by them.

 

"I'll get you another, hmm?" His tone was light and his brow raised in flirtation, Asch didn't dare assume it to be true however. "Much to much to drink have you, little Orc?" Her words oozed mocking, as she repeated his scold, abridging his voice with a cooing. Thrall's playful smile deepened into a sinful smirk, "I assure you there is nothing little about me, pretty elf." Asch knew she wasn't drunk enough to continue to imagine his words weren't implying naughty implications, she dared believe he was flirting with her.

 

 

"I suppose you'll have to prove it to me," she purrs, Thrall looks at her with dark eyes, lustful and blown, but his head shakes free. "Lady Greendeer-" "Asch," he falters at the correction.

 

"Asch," he nods lightly, "we are drunk. I cannot..." He didn't finish, nor did she need him too. Asch felt no disappointment, rather, attraction to his chastity. Humans had no such restraint. "I was..." He stops himself again, looking at the gooey lump of wine and dust that begun to seep into the oak wood, staining it's purity. "I'm staying in the city, until we are certain Deathwing is no longer a threat. If you would like to accompany me, the gardens are beautiful?" Asch licked her lips, faintly tasting wine and something harsher she had earlier, while in thought.

 

"Are you... Do you wish to court me, Warchief?" Her eyes watched critically as the green of his cheeks colored slightly, "if you'll allow me?" There was no shyness in his answer. "I am Alliance?" He shrugs one massive shoulder.

 

"I am no longer truly Warchief of the Horde. Even so... It would not sway me. I have seen much of you, your talents and promise. It does not bother me so that you are of enemy blood."

 

Asch let his words seep down like water in soil, he had been watching her, thinking of her. Thrall was a handsome creature, none so gathered her attention like he had, none of her own kind or any Alliance alike.

 

"I expect flowers. Nightelf men make beautiful arrangements to impress courting mates."

 

 

A tiny almost timid smile broke into a grin, "I shall have much to impress you with, then."

 

 

As the chief healer of Stormwind, Asch had many duties, that of healing the wounded, advise the King and teach the young how to harness the powerful magicks that would bulks them into the next generation of priest. Today was no exception, orders were barked and Asch glared at each student who presumed not paying attention was a good idea.

 

Another bout of quiet snickers and Asch snapped.

 

"You are healers! Dignified and poise. Not laughing fools! Will you think it's funny when a comrade dies?!"

 

There was utter silence.

 

Then a long, deep laugh that had Asch snarling, then blazing with embarrassment as her students awed at the mighty Warchief laughing at their teacher.

 

"Healing the wounded is a noble deed, a heavy burden. You do best to heed Lady Greendeer's every word." His eyes were bright and kind, "you will find no better." Asch was thankful that her students were so fixed upon the hulking Orc, her face was aflame and even her lavender skin could not mask the bright red washing over her nose, tipping to the points of her long ears.

 

"Dismissed!" Thrall stood at the mouth of the entrance, mocking her with a teasing smile as each student clambered out of the room, tripping over hooves and toes as they scuttled passed the Shaman.

 

"You are to harsh, pretty elf," Asch hisses, grabbing her cloak from the grand chair behind her massive desk. "Don't you dare!" He looked ever so playful as he marched toward her, a coy smile resting between his ivory tusks. "I dare," before Asch could growl back, his hand presented something to her.

 

It looked tiny in his hand, an artfully crafted gray stone in the shape of a flower, a beautiful rose, carved with a steam and few thrones, pointed leaves to match under the winding petals.

 

"It is no arrangement, but my culture gifts carved pieces," his smile was bashful. "Warriors give their women prized beasts, slew to show prowess. Nightelves believe life precious, I did not believe you'd appreciate that." Asch stared unblinkingly at the rock rose, a shuttering breath passed between them and she shot her eyes up to him, his expression hopeful and on edge.

 

"You... You made this?" He nods slowly, assuring her such. "It's beautiful!" Thrall juts his hand toward her, she knew her eagerness showed then as she scooped the finely carved rock from him. It was heavier then she imagined it to be, his dainty fingers cradled the head, petrified it would break at the slightest sway.

 

The garden was long and the rush of water from the fall close by them aided the serenity. Thrall was guiding her through, to the stones and flowers, smiling quietly as she marveled at the new surroundings, having never bothered to come before.

 

His warm green hand pressed like a grounding weight against her back, nice and sweet, but it gave her a nasty thought, one that she voiced to him quickly.

 

"Do you truly wish to bind to me?" A fair question Asch felt needed an answer, he paused, fingers twitching, as if they were about to retract. They didn't and his face became determined, as resolve much like the stone rose clutched delicately in her opposite hand.

 

"I do, do you not?" The idea of having a mate, a mate as powerful as he, it was enough to make her forget he was of the Horde. They had fought side by side when the rise of Deathwing had come, he must have been intrigued by her, watching her as she thought before. Asch paid no one mind, she healed wounds, protected her city and went about tirelessly, caring about nothing but her goal, her duty.

 

"It is a very poor decision. Much to risk, more so for someone you hardly know..." Her words did not phase him it seems, the hard look kept, his handsome face set, but his eyes acknowledged her worry, showing a pang of concern for her point.

 

"Orcs choose mates for strength, for breeding," Thrall's voice was prideful, the Warchief came out in every word as he spoke of his people. "Stories of my father were told to me when I rose to command the Horde. He chose my mother because he believed her stronger then him." Asch worried her lip, "but she was an Orc. They were not so complicated as we." Her interruption gave him pause.

 

 

Asch knew of Thrall, met him few times before the rise, Varian having business with him, he was always kinder to her them most, but Asch had no knowledge of his feelings. It seemed to all make sense now, his soft smiles she interpreted as good faith now we're secret pinning. His deep bows and gentle words, all because he felt love for her, something Asch was always too daft to see.

 

"Do you truly believe any of our people will accept us after they discover our courtship?" Asch did not mean to sound harsh, but it was a risk she could not consider. Varian would strip her of her title, ban her from the cities. Thrall may have sparked heart aching feelings deep within her, but her life was one of healing, one of protecting, her own life was given to support the Alliance, she could not be so selfish as to think they could become mates.

 

"I have admired you from afar for to long, Asch." Her name upon his lips made her breath escape her lungs in one fleeting, shaky gasp. The hand tightened and pulled her crashing into his breast, the rose bumped between their bodies and her hands sought purchase into the meat of his green hide.

 

Asch's skirts swirled at the sudden wind, the harsh blast shook the brush, carrying petals off their buds and leaves from their branches. Thrall was creating a winding storm around them.

 

Asch's lips part, his body was firm, radiating fires hotter then lava. The wind blew fiercely through her hair, she looks up then at him. "This is asking for trouble," she weakly smiles, almost laughing at his raised brow. "I should like to see its answer," his playful tone returned with the incline of his head.

 

He kisses her.

 

The wind rushed around them, Thrall's hands snaked beyond her cloak, resting against her hips with a possessive grip, Asch mewls. It felt like he was the only thing from stopping the wind from carrying her away.

 

 

Xxx

 

Asch sits upon Thrall's stone chair, digging her fingers into the charred, rounded stone of the arm rests, her Warchief would only be the Horde's leader for another five days before formally stepping down to better things, for the sake of Azeroth.

 

The King, the Warchief, the Nightelfs mate was on his knees, face buried in her cunt, at the foot of his throne.

 

"G-Go'el!" His natural name shuttered from her lips and his flat, expansive tongue licked eagerly at her insides, lapping at her juices like a kitten would milk.

 

Asch had never felt more powerful in her life, Thrall contently told her he choose her for her strength, but though she herself could not see the potential in her, like most did.

 

Now she felt powerful, sitting his her mates stone chair, arguably the most powerful man at her feet, pleasuring her with his skillful tongue. Asch's mewls echo down the vast hall, loud and unabashed, he called his guard away, wanting to have her for himself he said.

 

And this was his idea of having her.

 

Xxx

Asch slumps, looking at all the letters, worries and complaints of both Stormwind and Orgrimmar, a tasked duty she intended to fulfill, but reading over plight after plight was getting to hard to bare. Her fair mind suddenly changed to one of over kindness, wishing to give each person what they asked for, pleads for, but she could not, had not the resources for such willful ventures.

 

The table in Thrall's counsel room was full of documents, of Stormwind, Orgrimmar and the like. Her lesson plan for her class was scattered under all the sent letters she must reply too, those were also hidden under requests from their armies, the Vanguard asking for a few hundred shields.

 

Asch sat alone in the room, ripping at her hair and cursing as she lost her spot, reading what Khadgar had sent, in the sea of parchment it was almost impossible to find. "I am no good at this!" Her voice filled out the empty room, hatred came in waves. Asch despised being unable to help, help was something she had done for Varian, but both it seemed far too much to bare, each affairs of the kingdoms were divided. Asch lost what was Alliance and what was Horde a long time ago, now the concerns and requests were scattered and it would take hours to undo it, just so she could start all over again.

 

"Asch?" Thrall had an unmistakable voice, his worried tone was clear and concise. Asch felt herself crumble in the chair, unable to fix the mess that spread across the rooms wide war table.

 

Little red men were drowning in her sea of words.

 

"I've confused everything!" Her whine was clear, picking uselessly at thick paper, crumpling the edges. "I don't know how it got like this! It was all perfect before I went and ruined it!" Vol'jin had been helping her bring all the different letters and commands here, but they were sorted together. Alliance mixed with Horde and Asch tired to pluck through it, soon plies of all sorts of things sprouted around the table, soon Asch couldn't make much sense if it.

 

Varian had been merciful about their mating, so long as she knew her duty was to Stormwind as well as her new home, he expected nothing less then exquisite from his flawless priestess. Asch had told Thrall that she could handle some of his affairs, dabbling in discrepancies and pleas, though Vol'jin had also given her armory forms to look over and adjust, handled for the first month.

 

Then this month had come in a mess of mixed up mail. Now she had to deal with her students papers, letters, Stormwinds pile and as well as Orgrimmars, she had done this with ease before. Now it was like learning a whole set of new rules. Asch had to be fair to the Alliance, while providing arms for the Horde, to fight against them. A priest cares for all life and having to give weapons to both sides of people was almost a burden she could not bare, giving them the tools to kill one another, loving both their sides with equal measure.

 

Thrall came to her, taking the papers from her hands, settling them down in the mountain in front of them. "Breath, pretty elf," Asch did as told, his hands rubbed aches out of her shoulders as she inhaled and exhaled, closing her eyes and quelling the throb in her head.

 

"It was a mess already, I heard." He comments softly, keeping to his task and prodding his fingers deep into the hidden skin of her shoulders. "Wrynn expects you do his job for him, but my Horde is nothing to concern yourself with," Asch shakes her head, head rattling from the ache. "They are my people too. I knew when we joined that I also married your duties."

 

Thrall rumbles a deep laughter, "as have I, it seems."

 

Asch turns to eye him questionably, he shrugs, a present smile resting between his massive tusks.

 

"Varian wishes to meet with me, on neutral ground of course." Asch scowls at the stone walls, "what?"

 

"He seems too want terms, of what I do not know," Thrall divulges, grinding his palms into the meat of her shoulders.

 

Varian wants terms of what? What duty of hers was forcefully passed onto him? Asch knew her husband didn't have any answers, the Stormwind King was always so vague. Thrall kisses the messy top of her head sweetly before dragging a chair toward her spot in the grand chair, one he usually sits in. He found this to be an interesting change of pace, but it was nothing new, he would work to her whim as always.

 

"Let us sort through this together?" His wife looks like she wants to protest, but it doesn't reach words. It was a long moment before anything was said, and Asch tiredly accepted his assistance, promising soon after that she would get better.

 

"My love, I'm sure you will."

 

It had taken most of their afternoon and some of their night to finally fix everything to organized piles of paper. Thrall had only begun answering an invite when Asch snaked her way into his hold, bumping his arm and shaking ink onto the fresh parchment. "Take me to bed," her shiny eyes were consumed with sleep, a smudged ink blot colored her purple cheek.

 

Asch nuzzled lazily at his neck, curling like a cat into his lap and clutching his robes, Thrall was glad then that he had the forethought to remove his Doomarmor before seeking her out.

 

The former Warchief listened to his wife's request, looping his arms around her knees and back, cradling her tired body into his warm hide. The guards, usually loud and talkative were silent as he passed with the drowsy Nightelf. Thrall nodded to each one of them in thanks.

 

Their room was vast and Thrall brought her right to their bed, bringing her under the thick furs. He held back a throaty laugh as she yawned, hands pawing for him. Thrall bent to her will, letting her pull him too her, snugly under the furs.

 

"Hmm I love you," she says into throat, "I love you too."

 

Thrall doesn't move in his sleep, he stays still and wakes easily, Asch often moves, her restless body wiggles and turns, it hardly ever wakes him. Thrall wasn't sure how close too morning it was when he awoke because his wife lifted from his grasp. "My love?" His eyes were adjusting to the darkness, but the Nightelfs eyes were shiny and sliver, able to see without a problem.

 

"Quiet! Why do you bother us?" Her hissing demands registered in his mind and he launches up, arm cradled around her flat stomach, his personal guard is standing close by and one of Asch's appointed maids shifts nervously in her feet, a brown Orc named Adca, young and careless. Asch liked her well enough, claiming her mistakes will help her learn.

 

"I was told to my lady, he insisted of me!" His wife's shiny eyes narrow at her cryptic words, "speak wholes, too early for riddles." Thrall knew when Asch's patients ran thin, not often, but they had now.

"The pink king of Stormwind! He is here! Demanding you meet him now." Her hurried voice squeaks, "he has a small army! Nothing that can take the city-but I was told but it's an act of war!"

 

Asch is cursing in her strange homeland language, leaving the bed abruptly and causing her maid to stumble back, Thrall is also throwing the covers back. "Start a fire, get my cloak an you-" she points at the excoriated guard, "out!" Thrall can see his guard hesitate, looking at him for the same command, his wife snaps, "now! I'm your queen damn you, out!" His armor clinks as he escapes and Thrall smiles proudly at the back of his wife, finally taking her proper mantle.

 

"Did the idiot say what he wanted?" Asch's maid helps her knot her hair above her head, making sure it didn't get in the way while she dresses, Thrall listens intently, equally annoyed as he buckles on his armor, Doomhammer sitting at his feet.

 

"No, my lady he demanded of you, when the guards would let him inside he asked for an envoy, of me." Thrall stares at her bare ass as she strips.

 

"Did he threaten you?"

 

There was a pregnant pause.

 

"Self righteous bastard!" Her taught frame wiggles into a silk robe,"coming to my home and threatening my people!" Something primal in Thrall's stomach made him like the sound of her words. Her long purple hair was brushed fine down her back and a single feather was threaded into it, she's shoving her boots on just as he finishes attaching the last shoulder piece.

 

"I'll kill him!" Thrall snorts, looking at his furious mate, "you will not-"

 

"I will! The insufferable fool, you could take this as a deregulation of war!" Her hands are viciously waving, "I won't." He assures, "I married one of his people not five moon ago." Asch stares angrily at him, though he knows she isn't angry, at him in the very least.

 

Snowsong rides them too the city gates, the huge doors shut for the night, only open just enough for Thrall and his wolf to fit through. Standing too close was Varian and his vanguard, one that the former Warchief knew Asch should be standing in, rather then by his side, stroking Snowsongs great mane. Thrall shouldn't have been surprised his pet had taken to Asch, Nightelves had a special way with nature and animals. The massive white wolf standing at her side and snarling at the enemy, protecting his wife with utter devotion.

 

"What in the gods names are you doing?!" Asch was first to breach, standing taller then her king.

 

 

Xxx

 

Vol'jin stares unimpressed at his old friend, the expression on the Orc oblivious and content as he watches his mate sing a foreign song to the children, "ya know she pregnant ya?" From the corner of his eye he can see Thrall's wide eyed bafflement.

 

Vol'jin waves his hand, gesturing to the happy elf clapping along to her tune. "She don' know it yet. It be obvious if yah really lookin' mon." Thrall than stares, obvious and critical, Vol'jin waits, rolling his eyes. The Orc is pushed forward far in his seat, the little elf unaware of this.

 

"Gods she is!" He says as though it's a surprising revelation. "Dis bad?" Thrall is shaking his head, smiling. "No it's wonderful, I'll go tell her what you've discovered-" the Troll King halts his movement with a firm hand, "no no, let her find out on her own."

 

"But I already know." Thrall says dubiously.

 

"Act surprised den."

 

Xxx

 

Asch's belly poked his sculpted stomach as she met his thrusts, whining in pleasure. Thrall's finger circles the edge of her baby bump, primal powers swirled around his brain as he looked between them, their connection and her swell. Asch was beautiful, arching her back, head dipped into the pillows and her vast hair spread across the bedding.

 

"Harder.... Please." She begs, twisting under him, fighting to force herself deeper on his cock. Thrall snarls, grabbing her ass and back, and lifting her up, himself back on the foot of the bed. The pregnant Nightelf was now seated fully on his thighs, her body shivered, head dipping back enough that the strands of her hair tickled his legs. Asch doesn't sit still for long, her hands support on his stomach and her hips bob, fucking herself down onto him deep and harsh, moans loud and pleased sighs.

 

"Go'el hah," her pretty mouth hangs open and her thighs quiver, her tiny, breathless moans urge him to thrust up harder. Not many later her body locks and she screams, twitching and wiggling from his continued onslaught, Thrall too finding his release deep inside her, hand palming her little bump and growling her name roughly.

 

Asch catches her breath, laughing at his hands, cupping her belly "Erya says he will kick soon." Her hands cover his, the warmth comes off his fingers in waves, as if he's using magic to speak to their child. "He? How are you certain?" Asch squeezes their fingers together atop her belly, "men are born first in my family," she laughs brightly "and I would not be so big if it were a girl!" Thrall sits up slowly, resting on his opposites hand "you've never looked more beautiful." Asch giggles in his face, nuzzling her perky nose against his flat wide one, "will you say that when I'm bloated, waddling about and heavy as an Oxen?" Thrall was looking forward to seeing it, his mighty priest shuffling around Orgrimmar, barking orders and commanding his men, all the while waiting for her to burst.

 

He'd never tell her that.

 

"I will say you're the most alluring woman I've fortune to sleep next too, I'll tell you Elune herself is in your image, that you-" Asch hushed him with a single finger to his lips and a bashful laugh, "enough you flatterer!" Thrall kisses her finger, "hmm, you're so pretty, carrying my pups." Asch's brow arched and a fine blush carried over her nose and flamed along her ears "my clan is rebuilding itself inside your womb." Asch clamped a hand against his mouth this time, shaking her head and squeaking from embarrassment "stop that." Thrall hugged her naked body to him and chuckled warmly, the feel of her perky nipples pressing into his broad chest. "What? Stop saying that I wish to keep you like this? Pregnant and full?"

 

 

Asch's face soured, "you just want to keep me here, safe at home where danger can only knock at the door!" Thrall shook his head, keeping her tight to him, careful of her growing belly "no my love you'll be in the thick of it, right by my side." Asch seemed skeptical of this, Nightelf men keep their women home, their own careers set to the sidelines, sometimes never to be picked up again. Asch was too strong to be a mother only.

 

"You would..?" Thrall nods simply at this, "your place is with me." In Orc culture woman aren't left to stay at home, they stay by their husbands, no matter where that is, be it battle or in camp. They believe that you stay where it's the strongest, and Thrall was one of the most powerful. Asch and his unborn child would stay right next to him, of course, when she became too full then Thrall would keep to his duties away from the battles, keep his wife safe, and then the baby they will have.

 

 

"Warchief?" Asch froze, his limp cock felt her body tighten, but there was no arousal, with a wet slap, he slipped out of her and tugged his pants on, barley tying them to hide his indecency. Thrall looks back to find Asch pulling his shirt on, it was far to big, but it was the only thing close to her, she got up as well, the long undershirt touched her mid thigh, well hiding her bump. "My love?" Thrall says, Asch tilts her head, hands messing with her hair, "your leg?"

 

Asch peers down, running slowly down her inner thigh, close to passing her knee was a fine trail of his cum, oozing out of her opening. "Oh," her dainty finger wipe and rub the fluid into her skin, another bout of arousal tingles up his spine, but he shakes it free and answers his guards call.

 

"Yes?" The guard held out a scroll, a respectful bow to both he and Asch, who stood inches behind him. "This is no seal I recognize..." The curious hue green wax pressed perfectly in the middle, a deer set of antlers as the image. Asch poked up over his shoulder, than a delighted squeal erupted from her lips, quickly stealing away the rolled parchment. "What?" Thrall says confused, his excited wife bouncing in front of him while pulling the letter open. "Daddy!" Thrall was taken back by her childish squeaking, his undershirt spun dangerously high, almost exposing her to the watching guard, who viewed the skeptical with the same confusion.

 

"Daddy wrote! He wants to meet you!" Her eyes were shining so bright as she looked up at him, piecing together her outburst, then blinking in realization. Her father wanted an audience with him, for what Thrall was sure to be bad. He never asked for her hand, hardly got the permission, now he was meeting Rolius Greendeer, a man he had gravely slighted by elvish customs.

Chapter Text

Her home was warm, much like Orgrimmar, vast and colored purple, the Orc felt out of place amidst the lavish purples, he wounded if Asch feels the same about Orgrimmar. His black armor certainly looked out of place beside his lightly dressed wife, her simple dress did nothing to hide her growing stomach, rather accented its growth with a blooms pink. Thrall had pleaded with her, hoping she would hide it, but the Nightelf shook her head firmly, stole his hand and pressed it to the bump, asking if he truly wanted to hide it.

Thrall wanted everyone to know his mate was full and bred, her beautiful skin grew a glow and her breasts swelled, her father would not be happy.

Rolious lived in the temple, a commander to Tyrande and her own mate, Malfiron. Thrall would likely meet the Monarchs again this trip, since they had a close nit connection to her family.


Thrall could see from glades two figures standing by the temple, one tall and wide shouldered, Asch squeezed his hand, Rolious was dressed in black and silver armor, the white tree sigil carved into his breastplate. A woman as tall as Asch stood at his side, holding his arm and hand to her, she had the palest hair and yellow eyes.

"Mama! Papa!" Asch tugged Thrall toward them, Asch's mother was the first to reach them, picking up her shirts and darting to them "by Elune my darling girl" she had a calming voice, a motherly one Asch embraced her mother and Thrall wearily watched her father approach with slow, deliberate steps. "Daddy!" A smile crossed the elder elven face as his daughter pounced toward him "careful my love" Thrall regrets his words as soon as the silver eyes of Rolious were on him.

Asch was in his arms, looking up at her father with enchantment, her mother stood close to him, a smile wide along her pretty face "Phara" she turns to him, eyes critical for a moment, then bright and full "you are quite the young man, Warchief" she sounds teasing, Thrall draws away from his wife and looks at the older woman, she, like many of his wife's race did not look aged in any way, there were no lines along her cheeks nor were there bags under her glowing, blank eyes.

"It's an honor to meet you" Thrall bent in respect, Phara snorts, so much was alike between mother and daughter it was charming, "my how gallant, bowing for a lady. Asch always wanted a knight. I thought she would choose one of those dreadful humans!" Her laughter was loud, sweet to the ears and endearing "thank goodness she picked someone sensible to get her pregnant, Rolious! Stop doting upon your daughter and meet this fine man" she had the firmness of his wife, the wild look in her eyes and the disregard for power, Asch's mother could be no other woman reassuringly.

Rolious was a trusted companion to Tyrande, he looked every bit the part, his set sliver eyes and purple skin, long braided purple hair. Color as fine as the trees above them. "Warchief you say Phara? My city guard is worthless" his wife rolls her eyes, smacking his plate with a clack "you called them off, don't pretend you hate him." Thrall swallows hard, blinking slowly as Rolious' full attention is directed to him "I find out only days ago my baby girl is married to an Orc, their leader of all people and not only has that shaken her career, but she's expecting child as well" he pauses for a long while assessing the Warchief up and down with narrowed eyes and a pinched brow.


"I do hope you invite us too see our grandchild's birth, Warchief or I'll have to storm the city myself"




Xxx

 



Asch felt bloated, moving was almost impossible without the help of someone, but being in a camp it meant no comfort, Thrall was mulling over battle plans at the head of the table, with Vol'jin preparing for a defense for Slivermoon, her insides clamped and brought her pain, but she knew it was nothing but pre pains, little Andis kicking all the while.

"We have too many injured" a commander Asch didn't know the name of says, he gets her attention "I am the grand healer, I will heal them!" Thrall swung around "no, you are to close to the birth" Asch scowls at him, forcing herself up and bracing her hand onto the thick table, his hands and a personal guards came close to grabbing her, as if she was going to fall "my love..." He chides, trying to reason with her. Asch couldn't even see her feet, but she waddled away from them, "I will heal them. Stay here and plan your war."

 


Xxx

 



Asch huffs, holding onto her staff, the Iron Horde beating on her shield as she stood in the middle, "ah- hah stay in a little longer darling" Asch cups her belly, holding her ground, the warriors fight around her, creating more injured and dead. "Asch!" Thrall was on the opposite side of the golden shield, she cracked it open wide enough for him. Her husband was covered in blood and his hammer was filthy "you're in labor!" Sweat dribbles down her face as a contraction hits her, the shield rippling "we can't leave them!' She screams in pain, clutching the bottom of her belly, Thrall is holding her up, hand covering her to keep the spell from breaking "you can't stay here, it's too much for you and the baby! We have to leave!"  Asch shakes her head violently hair whipping about her in a rush "I have to save them!"


"You have to save our child!" Thrall booms angrily at her, Asch cowers, never hearing his might directed toward her, tears streaming down her face.

Suddenly his face softens, realizing he snapped at her, "please my love, think of our son. Come back with me, my men can stop the attack no more will die" Asch's fierce protectiveness for life he admired, at times she forgets that not everything can be saved, though she tries her hardest and it's one of the most admirable qualities she has.

Asch is torn, her people lie at her feet, gasping for breath and her legs weaken further, Thrall the only thing keeping her steady and the spell active, all her weight is resting in his capable arms "please we have to save them-" her plea is cut from pain, a broken noise escaping her dried lips, "I will Asch I promise" her body shakes, wheezing in pain, "let me take you away from here" Asch finally nods her head and Thrall doesn't waste a second scooping her up in his arms.


"Form up the shield is dropping" the Warchief comes out like a raging bull, "you" an Orc fighter comes to his aid without a second thought "run ahead and tell Lor'themar my wife's in labor" the brown Orc takes off from the battle, Thrall following by half the speed, Asch breathing heavily in his arms.

The pain continues to throb and spark down her spine, she tries distracting herself by counting her husbands thumping footsteps as they advance on the castle, Thrall skids to a stop, jostling Asch just enough to spike pain again "inside quickly Warchief" a city guard urges them to the door "find a midwife!" He barks, the guard recoils "citizens were evacuated to under city Warchief..." Thrall snarls at the blood elf, "a healer the-" "it's to late for that!" Asch cries out "get us to a room" the guard nodded quickly, armor clinking as he moves to direct them to an empty room.

"You expect me to deliver our child?" Thrall does nothing to hide his panic, he was himself a healer, it does often fall upon healers to assist with the birth, but never has he. Thrall was a warrior. Asch's grip on his shoulder is white knuckled, but hardly painful to him "you'll have too!" Asch buries her head into his armor and screeches, curling in pain, it was happening now and Thrall had no time to wait or worry now.

The guard finds them a dusty old study, and leaves them quickly, promising to inform Lor'themar. Thrall sets Asch on the floor, and she bends, doubled over from pain, under her dress he can see the baby crowning already "push Asch!" His wife's nails claw at the floor, the awful sound of her agonizing scream rips through his ears and between his hands a weight drops, squalling.

 Carefully he pulls the baby away, finally seeing the purple skin and twitching fingers, his breath escapes in a single gasp "he's here Asch" Thrall says in awe, his wife is panting, short happy bursts of laughter coming out, Andis looked like his mother far more then he did his father, his skin was a lavish purple, his face was plump, but Thrall knew he had his face. He was little, like most Orc babies, he would shape and grow in a lithe and wiry Nightelf, save for the long ears, Andis had his fathers tall, sky pointing ears.

Thrall slid over to his wife and grabbed the train of her cloak, pulling it around Andis as he cooed and hiccuped, his eyes opened as his mother cradled him, the same shade of blue his father had, expect they were glowing beyond his pupil, his little chubby fingers touched Asch's jaw, feeling his mother skin, becoming accustom to it.

Orc children must bond with their mothers, it was crucial in Thrall's culture, fathers had it easier, scenting and seeing created a bond, if Asch didn't connect with Andis he would refuse to eat from her and hate her touch. Some mothers suffered this and watched their children wither away, or be forced to witness them bonding with another woman.

"Hi there" Asch whispers, Andis squeaks, fingers curling into fists and waving in the air, making her laugh and coo, Thrall chuckles deeply at his sons bright smile, "he has your hair" she says, nose rubbing the soft tuft of black hair "there has never been a Nightelf with black hair" his finger strokes along Andis' soft flesh, wiggling his finger by his ear, making him giggle cutely "neither an Orc with purple skin" suddenly his face scrunches and he growls, Asch's head tilts up in loud, full laughter.

"By Elune he's your son alright"


Thrall can't help but smile proudly.

 



Xxx

 



Asch stalks toward Gul'dan, a furious snarl escaping her "give me my son, Gul'dan!" Andis was crying loudly, wailing and screaming, Thrall was captured behind a barrier of purple magic, helpless to watch his family.

The Orc laughs, waving the little bundle around in the air "this half breed has kings blood. I think not. Traitor" Gul'dan sneers, punching the word at her, like it was suppose to wound. Asch squared her shoulders "I will kill you Gul'dan. Put him down and fight me" she hisses, teeth clinched, thrall is banging on his cage, yelling at her to stop, begging her to not. "I invoke the right! Fight me you coward!" Gul'dan sets his face into a frown, glaring thickly at her.


"As you wish"

 



Xxx

 



Asch surges with power, the holy light consuming her body, Gul'dan held between pillars of light. The Nightelf's whole body is covered in magic, coloring her skin with rich gold, a pair of mighty wings stretch behind her, shaped like a angel.

Asch lets out a powerful whistle, Thrall watches as the mouth of the cave parts for his companion, Snowsong, the wolf comes to her command, batting blinded eyes toward his enthrall wife "to safety!" She commands in Orcish, jerking her head toward heir son, balling in rubble, Snowsong darts toward him, picking him up in her giant maw like a pup and leaving without a glance toward either parent.

"You'll die for this! You little welp-"

"Silence!" Asch's voice echoed like a god, condemning and powerful, "you've nothing!" Asch doesn't waste a moment and races toward him, wings spread like she was going to fly, between her hands spawn two swords, gleaming with gold dust and oozing with unspeakable power.

Asch crosses her arm across the other and darts to Gul'dan, finally slashing with a grunt and Thrall watches the unspeakable terror drain out of Gul'dan and the lifeless body slumps, miserably looking up at his wife, now covered in blood.

Gul'dan's head slips off his shoulder, thumping wetly to her feet and the magic chasing Thrall bursts, smoke threaded the air like incenses, evaporating clean and disappearing into the cave. "Asch!" His wife stumbles, wings shearing and her eyes fade, he catches her before she fall, the magic persisting around her.

Asch coughs in his arms, "I'll need another staff" Thrall smiles "I see where the power of kings came from" Asch giggles, cupping his cheek in her golden hand, the magic was burning so hot within her body.
"Power of gods, terrible burden. Take me to our son" Thrall nods, picking her up and holding her tight "will this last?" She was beautiful like this, bathed in light, symbols dancing around her head like a crown.

Asch nods "until I contain it, my power will not drain easily" it was immense, had she used this against Deathwing? Even only fraction? Where had it come from?

Thrall must have showed his curiosity, because his wife humbly laughs "later, my love all will be clear when we are safe home" her face brakes into thoughtful smile "Vol'jin must be stir crazed sitting on that lump of stone" the light doesn't hurt his eyes as they leave the cave.

"I suspect so."

The Alliance King was the first to approach "gods Asch your..." He didn't have to words, he just gawked at her, most in his force did as well "mhmm, Varian, is my son safe?" The King snapped out of it, blinking dumbly "yes... Your beasts have been snapping at everyone" he glances over at the wide space, Silver and Snowsong wrapped in a circle, their heads hiding between their tight space, Thrall snorts, walking to them with Asch giggling at the disapproving look of the King.

"Snowsong! Sliver!" The great wolf snaps ups, barking at Thrall's call, her tongue dangling between her glinting teeth, Sliver is lazily licking his lips, nose flaring at their scent. Between the two, Andis is cooing, fists of each pets fur in his hands, neither seem to mind.

Sliver laps at Snowsongs face, then runs his cheek into the babbling baby, squeaking as his mother comes into his view "oh little one" Thrall drops her onto her feet and Silver moves his head so she can squeeze between their bodies, Asch cradles Andis to her breast, golden skin washing over him, light reflecting off his purple skin like a dew glow.

Thrall slumps into the harsh ground next to his wolfs head, her eager tongue lapping at his dirty skin, he chuckles, rubbing the wolfs ear "thank you friend" Snowsong sniffles his palm, licking into the crease of his fingers.

Andis babbles to his mother, giggling as she kisses his cheeks, forehead and chubby hands "my sweet little light" her Orcish was beautiful, his son coos, hands grabbing at her long sliver hair pulling it and waving it around like a toy "he wasn't hurt, thank Elune" she tells him, relief flooding her features, Thrall was too, Gul'dan could've done sometching terrible before they got there. Andis was safe between his mothers arms, surrounded by great beasts and his father, ready at the drop of a pin.

The sound of thudding feet shook Thrall out of his tranquility, Varian was glowering down at them, holding the thick of Gul'dan hair in his fist, "it's over?" Asch turns in the tight space, legs curled into Silver "yes, the army still stands, but with no leader, it should be simple to wipe them" he nods, glancing at Thrall, then eyeing Snowsong with the same disdain "Stormwind thanks you, Lady Greendeer" Asch rolls her eyes, eyebrow arched in question "since when do you call me that, Varian?"

The King didn't answer, she sighs, getting up swiftly and moving out of the circle their beasts created around Andis, Thrall watching her curiously.

"You're my best friend, Varian. We don't have to fight like this" his gaze was strained, between scowling and keeping a neutral facade "I wish we didn't have too" he finally bites out, glaring at their feet "the fighting is over, our people are tired. Horde and Alliance, Varian. We don't have to  divide ourselves like this anymore" Asch turns to her husband, prompting him to take Andis, he does so quickly, nestling him into the soft part of his arm, Snowsong rests her nose against his forearm, lapping at the bottom of Andis' wrap.

"We won't ever get along, Horde of Alliance, but we can certainly stop fighting. I belong to my life, my choices and my husband. But the Alliance are my people, as are the Horde. I care for every single one of them. All people, Varian. I don't want to see my people die anymore then you wish your Alliance." Varian face was twisted in pain, listening to her words and regretting his own most likely. "We won't see our two factions get along in this lifetime, but we can start, so our children can. Don't you think one unit, one people, deserve it? Don't you see what we can do together? Can't we try and get along?" Thrall licks his lips, listening intently to Asch, rubbing tiny circles into Andis' belly, soothing him asleep as Snowsong breathes warmth into his tiny feet with gusting breaths. Sliver lays his head on Thrall's stretched let, eyes closed and relaxed.

Varian looks back at the troops, Horde and Alliance mixed into each other and nervously getting along with fixing the wounded, an Alliance guard weaving a bandage along an Orc's massive leg gives him pause for thought. "This won't be easy, you know. People will not like it, set in their ways, what can we do when they revolt?" Asch touches his arm, squeezing the flesh as best she could under his thick played armour "we lead, we do the best we can, change never comes easy, yes people will fight, among themselves, with their leaders" a tiny sigh, she looks back at Andis, dozing peacefully "if I believed it was so black and white I wouldn't be a mother. I wouldn't be a leader. I wouldn't married the man I have." Thrall shares her smile, Asch reaches for his hand and his gives it, extending toward her and holding the golden end fingers between his.

"I want to see Humans and Trolls, Tauren and Draenei all loving each other. I want to see or people free to roam where they wish, without threat of death and capture, war and torture. It started with Thrall and I. It can continue with us, as leaders, promising their people no more bloodshed and feud" Varian is slient, staring at Andis and blinking slowly, his lips tight in a line.

"Alright Asch" he said quietly "I'm with you, wherever this takes us. Dammit I'm with you..." He pauses, nose scrunched and brow furrowed "it'll take some very diplomatic underhanded work, but I'm sure you can convince the rest of the leaders to agree with you. It'll start in Stormwind any Horde wishing to enter will be gifted safe passage, any Alliance threatening them will be treated as an enemy of the new rule" Asch erupts in joy, squeezing Thrall's hand tightly, the golden magic threading along his forearm and up his neck.

 



Xxx

 



Thrall stares at the little purple halfing, his mate holding his head while he suckled her breast, the night was quiet, cold and their beasts stayed close to the dying fire, soon to join them in bed, draped over their feet like the spoiled creatures they were. Andis' ears were too big for his head, but he knew that all Nightelves were like that at birth, their son was no exception. He wasn't older then a month, so much had happened it felt longer. Andis' beautiful mother had vanquished Gul'dan, his armies were succumbing to the force that was the Horde and Alliance.

Asch curls into the soft furs, her sliver eyes staring tiredly down at their son, smiling at his eager suckling, Thrall drifts forward, brushing her legs with his hand, feeling the fur under the tips of his fingers, "he has me exhausted" she tells him fondly, blinking sleepily "Orc children need to be fed far more often then Elven babies, Thrall tilts his head "I thought the nurse looked after him?" Asch scowls, eyes settling on the fireplace "she was feeding him blood, it made him sick. She thought it would make him strong" ah, Thrall thinks, realizing what had her so tired, she's been looking after him all day.

"It's suppose too, but he is no full Orc, it will hurt his stomach" elves do not feed their children blood, Andis was proving to be more of his mother everyday. Asch hums at this, softly petting his hair, his little face pulls away and a dribble of milk trails down his chin before Asch whips it with her thumb, he was smiling at her "sleepy?" She coos, a little yawn escapes his lips and Thrall chuckles as Asch gathering him in blankets to rest him in the bed close to them.

"Snowsong" she beckons, the white wolf springs up, claws ticking against the stone floor "protect Andis" Snowsong yips, nose bobbing as Asch's fingers run through the thick mane. Snowsong rests herself around the crib, curling like a snake as Asch puts him to bed, Sliver moves over to them and plops down, grunting.

Thrall gathers Asch when she gets close, pulling her into his lap and nuzzling her supple skin "my love the war is over" Asch nods into his thick hair, sighing intently as he runs her lower back "it is" she confirms, "will you give me another son?" His blatant question is met with stiffness, the reaction did not shock him.

"But this one is barely a month" Thrall nods into her flesh, kissing it lightly "you were beautiful carrying him" Asch swats his shoulder, huffing over his hair "I was insatiable, always wanton" Thrall hides his grin in her flushed chest, but she can feel it "Nightelves have litters themselves, give me a litter, pretty wife" her heart is hammering in her chest, Thrall knows he'll get what he wishes, because she wishes the same.

 


Xxx

 



Asch stayed, looking into the bazaar with angered eyes, their son was safe asleep by the beasts, curled by the fire. The counsel with Tryande had gone well, her blood agreed peace, the Dwarfs had snarled, calling her Thrall's whore, a pretend queen and traitor. She had not spoke, even as they insulted her.

They called Thrall a slave and she told them to get out, even striking fear into the little dwarf King.

Now she was glaring into the crackling fire, brooding and thinking to much, Thrall clears his throat. "I was, you know this. It does not wound me, their pitiful words cannot strike me" Asch's brow tightens, "they shouldn't have said it" he agrees with a nod "no, but you knew this wouldn't be easy, riots and revolts, the Dwarves are doing as they always have." Asch's race was a peace loving kind, they accepted war and always fought, Tyrande was kind and ruthless, but had brokered for the peace Asch wanted so badly for each side.

Her eyes fell upon nothing, staring at the floor, a carpet of fur which the beasts lay upon, their son dozing happily, she glanced at them, the tips of his purple ears sprouting behind Snowsong, Thrall almost laughed, looking at the tall ears. Now wasn't a time for it though, his wife was miserable. She knew of his past, how difficult it was for him, what the humans had done. She didn't like it, not exclusively because it was done to him, but because it was being done at all. Asch and Thrall over the past months had raided Iron Horde camps, first the biggest, ones that threatened to rebuild the broken rule, they took the leaders, killed the men and gave the camps to refuges, ones who lost their homes in massive scales, they became neutral cities for both sides.

The leaders were broken easily, Asch did not partake in this, Vol'jin said they would get nothing by asking, Asch excepted this fact after she stubbornly tried too do just that. One, Ug'kulo had spat in her face and called her a bent over whore. Thrall had taken pleasure in destroying him.

Once the larger camps were taken out and made into cities, they focused on smaller camps, one had bothered Asch and if Thrall had known before hand, he would not have allowed Asch to come. Gul'dan had a slave encampment, Asch couldn't heal their drained bodies, she cried all night over the women and children that were too far gone to heal. Many more were found just like that, but even as Thrall insisted she say home, she went. Looking upon all their faces and doing what ever she could, kissing their head and promising it was alright. Asch was struck by slavery, hating it deeply, even more since her husband was victim to it.

Thrall felt deeply cared for, her iron will and stubborn attitude about slavery made him think she would abolish it herself. Thrall was he so moved by the things she did, the utter devotion she had for her people, her child, her husband. He could not even begin to imagine a person more inclined and self sacrificing then his wife. She had no prior judgement of people when she met them, only assuming they were as kind as her, but faintly, growing more so everyday, Thrall knew he'd never meet anyone as kind as her. There was no better mother for his children.

Though, she wasn't unwise, she knew when something looked dangerous. She did not assume them evil, but knew when paths didn't meet the same way. Asch did not think Gul'dan evil, for all he had done, to her and to her son. She did not think him evil. Asch told Thrall this, saying the Orc thought himself right, that his way was right, in his mind he was. That what he was doing was right, Asch knew this, accepted that he thought himself right. She did not judge him, but certainly knew he was dangerous. The Warchiefs wife was cunning and clever, hardly naive. Just hopeful that her same kindest would be met equally, but she knew when it wouldn't and was careful.

"We are young" Thrall tells her, "too young to worry so harshly. Come, sit with me, bring our son and help me write to your cities" though they were the neutral cities they liberated, the people thought Asch their leader, even if they weren't suppose too, council of Man, Orc, Nightelf, many from each race were put into charge, equal and for their cities. Asch was still spoken to as their leader, sent letters regarding the city and its people, letters that the council shouldn't be sending, Asch for all she had done wasn't considered a neutral party. She was Alliance, just as much as Varian was, Talon commendation included.

She wasn't allowed to have a say in the cities developments, yet they came in daily anyway, much to Asch's worry and Thrall's amusement

It was the worst kept secret in all of Azeroth. Thrall had said they should just grant her the neutrality and let her rule her cities, no small amount of joking on his part, though Varian had laughed.

When Thrall was found serious in this Varian said he couldn't have that, she was the forefront of his argument, the Dwarves had yet to side with the agreement, and she was the only thing keeping them from war, she as Alliance. Thrall rolled his eyes at this, because, Asch was neither sided as it was, helping Stormwind in affairs as much as Orgrimmar. Though Asch had said if it ever came to it, she would side with her husband. Whichever way that may lead. Varian said if it should ever come to that, he would hope it was the same side as himself.

Asch told him in the night they thought war was upon them, when Dwarves had called for banner-men, all Alliance included, that she would stand with the Horde and hold their colors, because she followed her husband. And he had a side. Asch would've be branded a traitor and the opposite of what she wanted would've occurred, Varian would be forced to answer the call, he was the only reason they knew about it, a message was sent from Khadgar's portal, one that sprang at them, flinging the parchment, frightening Andis into a sleepless night.

Thankful the King of Stromwind calmed the Dwarf down, the threat was gone and Asch's peace plans were still safely together.

His wife looks at him, after so long together he could divulge anything by simply looking at her, angry yes, tired hardly and anxious. Thrall knew she needed to do something with her hands, focus on a simple task and cradle her son to her breast, Andis had amazing power over his mothers moods, he could make her happy with ease, a quality that came right from his father. Thrall had little to no trouble getting her to move from her spot, their son cooed brightly as she plucked him from Snowsong's hide, making her way and sitting close to Thrall, he smiles at her and just like that, she smiles back.

"He is very big" Asch says, letting Andis grope her hair, Thrall glances at his chubby arms, grunting fondly "aye, that he is. He'll walk soon" Asch gave him a winded look "he will not. He's only half Orc darling" Thrall paused his reading, Khadgar had sent a congratulations to them concerning Andis, but it could wait the moment it took for him to stare at the squeaking babe "he will, strong little legs kicked your womb, kept you awake. He will waddle and annoy our beasts soon. I can see it" Asch giggles, looking over at the snoring pets, huddled into each other, a lump of shaggy fur molding into sleek.

"They won't let him stray to far, poor things. They'll never sleep if he's about" Thrall laughs, dipping the feather into parchment, Andis claps his little hands into the wood table, making little thumps and amusing himself, Asch smiling and kissing his head, eyes watching her husband with love.
"You're Archmage sends another gift, I am thanking him" Asch rest her chin atop Andis head gently, his face scrunches and he tries looking at her with big eyes, confused. "Another? What does he send this time?"

Thrall peers over at the artfully constructed crib Khadgar had made from oak wood, a bit of magic at its head, creating a starry turnstile for Andis to giggle at. "This time it's a soft stone, for his growing teeth" Asch plucks the bag, it was silk and the strings were colored gold, she opens the bag and fiddles with one of the grayish stones, it was hard enough to sate his teething, but soft enough it wouldn't harm his gums.

"Thoughtful, I should send him a master Orc Mage book from the library. He'd love that" Thrall nods in agreement. Khadgar was a friend in their time of need, often working with Thrall, knowing it be for the better of their realm. "Varian sends a blanket, a lion hide, with wolf fur on the inside" he grabs it as he speaks, carefully handing it to Asch, Andis blinking at the new fabric wondrously "sweet of him as well" she plucks the letter, laughing as she read "for being pompous and forgetting you are my friend. I do hope you'll return to teach my son what it means to be like you. I wish him to only learn under the best. Varian. I had forgotten Andwin's lessons. I should host him here" Thrall knows of the pink human prince, never have they met.

Asch wouldn't risk leaving the city with Andis, not unless his father was in company, but with so much going on, it wasn't possible for him to leave on a trip to Stormwind. Andwin would have to come here, if he wished to learn his trade. Or find another to teach him.

"If he chooses to come it will certainly be interesting. You are the first Nightelf granted safe stay, but he will not be the first human" Asch scowls in thought, Thrall never liked seeing her scrunch her pretty face like that.

"Has Lady Proudmoore sent any gifts for our son? Our wedding?" Since the war was over it was a time for the worlds leaders, now Alliance included to send marital and baby gifts, a show of respect and happiness to Thrall and his wife. Everyone important and then a few extra had sent things along, some friends Thrall had almost forgotten about had sent meaningful gifts of fur and wine, rattles and talisman. Jania Proudmoore was not one of them. Of course, Thrall knew why. He has history with the little human, almost courting her and then not, knowing better of their situation. Too the ruler of Thraramore, it looked quite damming that he had married a Nightelf, gave her a baby and loved her even though she was suppose to be an enemy.

Asch was not petty, but it was clear Jania was acting as such, Nightelven culture dictates if those who do not celebrate with you on a happy occasion, wish to insult you. Not celebrating a marriage or a brith was unforgivable. Even her harsh father had sent happy wishes, asking for more grandchildren and too see Andis, it was the right thing for him to do. Everyone celebrates, Thrall's own people cheered for their Warchief, Andis' birth now a holiday, which would surely be a spectacular affair in Orgrimmar.

"She is not happy with me" Asch glares at the fine wood of the table, fingers rubbing circles into Andis' little palms, "is it because she loved you and you did not?" Thrall could have loved her, did in a way, but before when he entrained the idea, it would've gone terribly wrong. Jania would be an enemy to her own crown, branded as a traitor and stripped of her home. Thrall had much to offer, but nothing she needed. Janis needed books, he had tools of war, the Mage needed freedom, she would be caged. Thrall could not give her the life she craved, Jania may have loved him, but she would hate him as she does now, scornful of him for setting her career ablaze.


Asch had always been on the line, never crossing either side, she could steadily be what she wanted, her world was wide, she could help anyone, Jania was of Kirin Tor, a Mage of arcane, Mages always sought power. Jania, if she had married Thrall, would be tied to more duties, and have less freedom. It was only because Asch was so careful about her line that Thrall could be with her fully, that Thrall himself was curious companions of Varian after Deathwing had rattled the world, suddenly two sides needed each other for survival. Asch was his mate, his wife and the mother of his beautiful son. Jania's scorn and pettiness would not brother him, maybe once, but not ever now.

"I think, she loved the idea of being with me. If it were true, she would have left, or been unhappy" Thrall says, reaching for Andis and touching his cheek, the baby squalls at the attention, reaching to grope his fathers meaty green finger, Thrall allows him to do so, looking at his wife's face, a curious gleam in her eyes " I think, she is angry with you because she wanted this life. But not really, Jania wouldn't ever love this life, if she had it" Thrall knew this well, Asch was softening her anger, knowing him to be right, slight forgotten easily, as usual for her. Asch hardly held a grudge, even if a custom was broken.

Chapter Text

Asch lay breathless, head dipping back, hoarse crys pass her lips as Thrall licks mercilessly between her thighs. "Go'el! Ha please!" She squirms at the hot breath that passes over her shivering body, he was laughing at her neediness, squeezing the flesh of her thighs, his teasing over.

"Go'el!"


Asch looked pretty standing regal, like her place was in a war room, conducting the little men and ordering more powerful people to do her bidding, Asch also looked pretty as a mother, curled by the fire and paying with their son, little Andis giggling happily while the beasts yipped and nibble his feet.


But by far, the prettiest Thrall has seen his wife was when she was on her knees, cock deep Dow her throat, looking at him with sinful eyes.

Thrall cradles her cheek, purring low as she sucks and swirls her tongue with enthusiasm, Thrall comes on her mouth, it dribbles on her chin and he kisses her eagerly, making her giggle.

 

Xxx

Thrall knew she was pregnant before his wife did, like the first time. Asch was moody with most people, she didn't like eating much and she snapped anyone who didn't say yes my lady when she told them something. It was much like before and Thrall would not be surprised if they were blessed with another son. Women were more docile and kind of pregnant with girls, Asch was snippy and annoyed, they would have a son and Thrall was excited for her to discover she was pregnant, he loved to dot on her.

Asch was reading at their war table, writing replies to her neutral cities. This was the less exciting part of ruling, but Thrall was fine with that, the time for war was past for now, there would be plenty, the Warcheif knew, never would he tell his peace campaigning wife, but war would be upon them. Now Thrall would enjoy his family. Love his children and live with he peace they have made.

Xxx

Gul'dan stood, snarling at Asch. Sneering in contempt "little elf" she was shocked, staring at him "h-how!" She cries, staring with baffled, dead eyes. Asch's face had sunken, her lips wrought in a terrified gaped. Thrall stood hunched behind her, glaring at Gul'dan with threatening bloodlust full eyes. Gul'dan wasn't paying him any attention though, rather occupied with taunting his wife with a dangerous smile


Xxx

Andis was waddling around, chasing after a butterfly that was bright orange, giggling "don't go to far little one!" Asch calls after in Orcish, watching him run in the valley of strength, weaving through guards who pretended not to notice and smile as he passes by.

"My lady" a guard says, nodding his head, Asch smiles at him "you healed me at the battle of Slivermoon" he tells her, a quirked lip "I would not have seen my family again if not for you" Asch's smile was bright, tears prickling her eyes "don't thank me, my job is to protect my people" Asch looks where Andis had been, now nowhere to be seen, her happiness was dashed, replaced with pure dread "Andis?!" The guard knew instantly what had happened "please allow me to help you" Asch waves him on, he follows the dirt path and Asch darts toward where she last saw him.

"Andis my darling come to mommy!"

Asch was terrified, the valley of strength was opening away from safety, away from Thrall and Asch was frantic, running without caring her dress was getting wrecked by red dirt.

A babies laughing caught her attention, she ran to it, there by the water was Andis, holding into the beak of a buzzard, a Troll, still by the water, looking at him.

Time stops for her, Andis loses his amusement for the bird and claps onto the Troll's leg "boo! You're boo!" He tells him, clapping his hands into the skin of his leg, Asch shivers staring at the Troll, his hair was thick, blue like his body and standing tall.

"Aye, I am blue, little one. You're purple. Never seen a purple Orc before" Andis tilts his head "mama says I'm spoosical" the Troll looks up where Asch is standing, then looks back at Andis "you're very special, and you're mama looks worried sick" he points toward Asch and Andis peers over with his big eyes. Then he smiles at her, his little feet pick up ad he races to her, Asch braces him, holding his head.

"Never seen a purple Orc" he repeats "I knew he was my Warchiefs. My sisters babes run away all the time" Asch heard Trolls speak common, it was rough, but when this one spoke Orcish he was smooth and clear.

"Thank you- I was..." He waves her off, smirking "I know you might've thought the worst. What with you're own people's wanting to kill you" he pauses long, looking at his bird, then back to her "you are my Warchief's woman. That little purple Orc is his son." He didn't say more, he bowed and his bird trailed away, he had a small smile on his face.

Asch felt more excepted then she had with her own blood people.


Xxx

Asch was heavily pregnant, sitting among the rare green in Orgrimmar, she looked at home, Andis was holding a peach, nibbling the soft flesh and enjoying the sun. Thrall looks at the ground, grant me your power, please Thrall asks the hard earth a simple thing, and a small, lush pink flower blossoms from the grass, Thrall plucks it with a gracious thank you.

"Asch" his voice was rough, like always. Asch looks up from Sliver, she had been picking burrs from his pelt, a good handful sitting on the plush grass next to her "oh, my love" Asch's pretty eyes sparkle as Thrall thread the flower behind her ear, Andis ogling his parents when curious blue eyes "mama look pretty" he says in rough elvish, Asch smiles at the purple halfing, a faint blush of colour running over the bridge of her nose.

Thrall eases down and pets the top of Silvers head, Snowsong sleeping beside him. His wife's companion snorts softly, tail flapping on the ground.

"Where did you get it, papa?" Andis asks with amazement, his father chuckles deeply, smiling at how he braced on his mothers leg, blinking owlishly at the flower. "I asked the earth to bloom one" Andis looks so baffled, "how?!" The child can switch between Orcish and Elvish easily as common tongue, Andis was a clever boy and would grow into a great Warchief. If he so chose. "I am a Shamen, we call upon the spirits of the world, ask for help. They answer, someday if you wish I will teach you how to hone the gifts."

Andis looks excited, "I can be like papa?" Asch giggles, pulling him to her lap, "of course, you are the first son of Thrall, you will become Warchief and lead our people" Andis puffed up and set his face, his cheeks were plump. "I will mama! I wanna be sawmen!" Asch laughs and kisses his fine hair, brushing it away from him face "Shamen little one, you will learn" Andis giggles excitedly.

Xxx


Garrosh was defeated, Thrall was quiet, staring off into forest, Asch worries quietly for him.

 


Xxx

Asch glares at the harsh table, across from her was the Alliance, Varian looking defeated and miserable.

"You're since banned from any Alliance capital, stripped of titles and will not be granted clemency" the Talon sat on the table, color milky and fading "there will be no treaty between Horde and Alliance" Varian agreed, Tryande agreed, but Grenn, the dwarfs, Gnomes and Draerei had not, the treaty was a failure.

Thrall sat tall beside his deflated wife, "we will always come to your aid Varian" a curt nod, Thrall continued "the cities we liberated will become Horde soil, any who wish to defect will be given time and freedom to choose, whether they be Alliance or Horde" the little dwarf king smacked his hand on the table "no Horde will be welcome in mah' city! Alliance born only!" Thrall sighs through his nose, brow dropping "any Alliance will be welcomed into Horde territory as a citizen if they so choose." The dwarf snorts and Varian bites at him, hushing his further comments.

Asch was about to stand, but Varian was first "keep the Talon, as a memory... I will send Khadgar to drop anything you have left in Stormwind" Asch doesn't speak and Thrall gives one last gracious thank you to him before urging Asch away from the table. She was weightless, like leaves in the wind, Thrall the force that moved her. "Asch-" "I failed" he quickly tuts "no you didn't, they did. You're people are welcome, all are welcome in Orgrimmar" he knew it wasn't what she wanted, but at least it was a fraction. Alliance would come, the people they freed were of all races and they would live in Orgrimmar, Asch would make sure they had homes in Azeroth if they wished.

"I wanted..." Thrall squeezes her shoulders, helping her onto Zeppelin "I know my love. Let us go to our room and see our sons" Andis and Kelgar would surly brighten her mood.

"I miss them" she whispers longing, Thrall quirks a smile "let us go-" "Thrall?" Asch spins to face him, blinking glowing eyes, her hair color was returning, a soft lavender emerging from the pale white "yes Asch?" Asch holds her thought, a crease erupting along her lovely skin "can I... I want..." Thrall lets her take the time to gather her thoughts, giving her his full attention.

"Give me another baby" Asch's soft hands skim up his arms "I need... They're growing so fast and I'm scared" Kelgar was born only months ago and Andis' birthday came and went, Orgrimmar celebrating the day with them, many flowers were given to the guards to give to Asch for Andis, many toys made of many things, metal, leather and straw, all beautiful and lovingly crafted. Thrall knew Asch was feeling what every mother felt when their babies get older, he chuckles lightly "they aren't going anywhere" he assures "they will live through the ages. Alexstrasza has assured us this. We are the protectors of the world. You will see your great, great, great grandchildren. We will protect this world through its ages."

Thrall kisses her forehead "I will give you as many children as you wish" Asch falls into his arms, gripping the plate of his armor with tight fingers "come my pretty elf, let us see our sons. When we return I shall give you more."


Andis was petting Snowsong as she dozed happily on the bed, Kelgar asleep by her belly, Andis had tall ears, far to big for his toddler body and Kelgar had his mothers ears, long passed his head and floppy like Asch's, he was snugly tucked behind Snow's tail, folding the fur in his little fingers. Thrall's second son looked more like him then Asch, the same green skin, tusks poking out of his bottom lip. Kelgar had hus mothers milky eyes, a hint if blue in them, his hair was what hers used to be, a deep purple, soon her hair would turn back and match. Kelgar would be bigger then Andis, not much taller, but wider and built more solid. Andis would grow like a Nightelf, maybe bigger then one and certainly stronger, but nothing like his little brother would.

"Mama" Andis whispers, "Kel sleeping shhh!" Thrall snorts at his son, smiling when Asch made a show of tiptoeing toward the bed "babies need sleep" she says "you need sleep too, baby" Andis frowns "I'm almost two! I'm not a baby! Kel is a baby!" Thrall comes to stand behind Asch, smirking at his sons logic "but you need sleep to become strong little Shamen" he says, grinning at Asch's thankful look. Andis ponders this "will Kel be a sawmen too?" Asch plucks Andis from the bed and holds him toward his father, Thrall hums "maybe little one. Maybe he will wish to be a priest" "like mama!" Andis cheers excitedly, Thrall nods "yes, like mama, but right now you both need to sleep" Thrall eases Kelgar out from under Snowsongs lavish tail and follows Asch to the side room their beds were placed "goodnight Andis, I love you" she says, kissing his cheek.


The little Orc snuggles into the furs, yawning "night night mama, papa I love you."


Xxx

15 years later

Asch glares as cross the table at the dwarf company and Varian.

Her children stand close to her with crossed arms and snarls, Thrall is silent and neutral.

"What had you coming to the horde for help?" Asch snaps, the dwarf King bares his teeth "we don't need you're help-" "yes we do!" Varian yells "blood of my blood" he pleads looking at her, Andis snorts, his hulking frame towering over the pink King "burnt that bridge when you didn't let her see grandpa" he drawls, flicking his black hair over his shoulder. Andis was handsome, his tall ears and flirtatious smile drew people to him. But he'd had found a pretty mate, Yeema, a petite Nightelf that barely reached his shoulders.

Yeema was glossy pink and and blue haired, bright and airy, obsessed with reading and magics, she wanted to be a kirin'tor mage one day.

Asch approved of her sons choice and was eager to celebrate a wedding one day, once he had the courage to ask.

"I couldn't... Asch you know this- they wouldn't allow it!" Asch narrows her eyes further, her father was killed by legion demons and buried in the grove of heroes, a royal ground for nobles and she wasn't allowed go to his funereal "Tyrande would have let me. She welcomes me home" Varian cringes, Kelgar snarls, his massive fist thumping into the table, spitting the wood in a dent "enough of this what do you want?!" Kelgar turned into a Druid, much the opposite of his elder brother, who became the Shaman like he always wanted. Kelgar was a massive Orc, smaller then his father, but bigger then Andis. He had pearly tusks and silver rings running down them, he was a lovely green and his hair was spiked up in a Mohawk, purple as his mothers.


Kelgar had a mate as well, Tylar, a Draenei adopted by a human family after the Iron Horde fall. Her family had been on of the thousands to side with Asch when it came to picking a side.

"You have the dragon life" he says, "we can still die, this power was not limitless, Varian" Asch claims, the king nods quickly "please the legion have overrun Stormwind, our people need help evacuating", Asch's third son, Reyis snorts "your people, not ours. Nor my mothers. What do you want from us? Our immortality is weak against blades and death" he was meeker then his siblings, just as tall as his mother and a priest like her

 

Xxx

Draenei Asch Au

Durotan hisses out as he looks at the other Orc "you brought a bed slave to the war counsel?" There was a moment where Thall thought was going to explode in rage and their plan would be blown up. Asch was coloring an angry shade and her lip was snarling, but she stayed silent, eyes ablaze. Thrall stands tall, curtly nodding "we have no room where I can put her, so she's stays with me." Durotan snorts, looking at his wife and sharing the same mocking expression "careful, Frostwolves keep no slave, but other clans do. Treat her like a wife is you want, but know it'll get you in trouble" Thrall sighs, he was already in trouble.


Asch exploded finally when they were alone in their cave "a bed slave?!" Thrall winces, "my love..." she points accusingly, snapping at him "no! Oh no. I am your wife! Not your fucking whore!" Thrall tries to touch her, but Asch whips away, anger ever clear "you are my wife. But they can't know that, we came here to right the wrongs of-" "I know what we came here to do! And how will we accomplish this now that they think I'm a whore?!" Thrall shrivels "Asch please we just have to pretend, we need them on our side" Asch looks sour, hateful and scorning.

"This is what my people were to yours. How can you just tell me to pretend" Thrall feels his heart weaken at her omission, the way her voice dropped, "because we have too. I was a slave too. I know all to well what it is like" Asch curls into herself, looking small atop their bed of furs. Her hands bury her face "even your own father..." Thrall falls to his knees, finally touching the soft skin of her legs "we will endure" Asch snorts angrily, smiling sadly "I shouldn't have to anymore" Thrall nods "I will never be able to right this-" Asch cups his face, bringing it up to look at her "I forgive you" Thrall cripples, sniffling and smiling through his tears.


"Why is the whore with you?" Snarls a nameless clan leader, Thrall peers at his wife worried, but resolves when he acts as she needed too, vowing her head and hiding her eyes. Thrall hated it, but it was necessary "so she isn't defiled while I'm away. She's mine as won't have her touched by any else but me" the Orc snorts, growling angrily and licking his unclean lips "fine she's pretty enough to look at. Don't let her get in way" Thrall nods curtly, looking back. Asch doesn't look at him, keeping her charade up.

Chapter Text

Finnik was like a snapping crocodile when they approached the main house, all the guards shooting their glares and upturning their lip. Finnik made no time for it and simply wore the most fowl of faces Asch had never seen. Asch wanted to latch into his side and hold him, selfishly for her own benefit, but it wouldn't look proper at all and many of the servants lingering about would whisper lies to both her parents. Asch stood stark, ignoring how much she wished she wa home.


The real home, in Orgirmmar where Thrall and Thunders were. Where the red dirt was and their lovely apartments. The rough furs that smelt like her husband and the huge comfy bed that had wooden posts. The home where the only silk was whatever skimpy thing Asch decided to greet her husband in.

It was a dreadfully silent climb up the steps and even worse of a wait while they were being let him. Her father was mulling over papers as Asch shriveled inside, Finnik a stone behind her, chilly and hard. Her mother was tipping at a servant about cold tea. Her father peered up, uninterested and a little damming, as if he was already writing her off his will. "Cella, your daughter is here" he says looking back at his papers. Asch's mother instantly turns, "Asch, how we've missed you" it was a practiced statement, one Asch also heard her say many times. Asch smiles anyway, bowing lightly to her mother.

Cells blinks her eyes between the two of them, a little trick she used so she could openly stare at Finnik "dismissed" a low angered snort comes from behind Asch, jostling her hair and making her shiver "no- mama this is-" "I am her husband. Not her guard." Her fathers head shoot up again, squinting very harshly at the two "are you?" Asch knows he one the teasing end of yelling, his voice raised ever so slightly, his tone chipped.

"I am." Finnik never backed down from anything, Asch shouldn't have hoped that he would bend to her father, for the little sake of peace.

"Outrageous!" Her mother snips, clearing shocked and disgusted "Resis!" Cella barks, Asch's father eyes her mother, before curling his lip and a fowl "how long has this been going on?" Asch feels like a child again, standing on the edge of her fathers rug, getting scolded for being naughty. "Over a year" a very happy year and more, but Asch wasn't about to say that.


Her father looks shocked, the way his eyes pop a little at the information, he schools it quickly, masking his emotions to completely cold and neutral. As if Asch remembers him looking any other way.

"You've only thought to tell us now?" Resis pretended to feel insulted, but Asch knows he rather be spared this knowledge at all, but the notion of never seeing her parents, no matter how awful, was heartbreaking, even more she would never see her siblings. "We've only just been able too. Finnik is a clan leader, we are very busy" he makes a mock of looking impressed "a leader you say? It doesn't take much does it?" Finnik growls low, but doesn't say anything. "It takes much to have the ear of the Warchief. Thrall is great friends with us" now her father looks actually intrigued. Like all Bloodelves, power is intoxicating, no matter where is comes from.

It was quiet for sometime, her mother was fuming silently, no doubt snarling her lips at Finnik.

"Mhm" he finally grunts, shaking his notes "the guard outside will show you your rooms. I will see you at dinner." Asch knows that Finnik is seconds away from exploding, "actually, I want to sleep in my old bedroom, there should be enough room for both of us. Mama have the guards bring our things" her father scrunched his brow and her mother looks like she's waiting for him to say something, but he only waves his hand. Mothers face colors pink, a mixture of anger and annoyance surely, but she does as told.

Asch turns, looking at Finnik giving a smile smile, he darts his eyes down, then over her head and finally turns out the the open doors, Asch skips ahead of him, eager to see her old room again.

"Insufferable" he hisses, grumbling angrily, Asch let's him, in favor of looking around. No dust in sight, but everything was as she remembered, the blue silk sheets and curtains draped in sheer over the tall bed posts and canvas top, it was all white marble and cherry wood. Nothing like home, but beautiful craft.

The bath was just a stunning, the large marbled tub and the copper pipping. Asch couldn't wait to bathe in their again. That was one thing she requested made in their home, a very out of place black marbles tub, but Finnik let her have anything she wanted. Asch abused that heavily when it came to their bathroom. Her husband never complained about it once after they shared a rather ronchy bath that included candles and bubbles that overflowed.

"I hate them" he snarls, pulling off his armor. Asch sighs "I know, I'm sorry my love" Finnik softens, looking at her with a longing expression "come" his arms open, Asch giggles, launching herself into his hold, finally indulged in his absurd warmth. Finnik said it was the fire inside him, Asch didn't care what it was exactly, the magic or just natural body heat. It kept her feet warm at night. Asch would always be freezing, she would playfully shove her cold feet or hands at him and though, he'd wail and groan, Finnik would always make sure she was warm.

"Only a few days, then we can go home" she mumbles in the crook of his neck, nuzzling his touch beard "mhm I'll count the hours" his hands wander down her spine, hands completely shadowing her bottom, Asch huffs, squirming "we can't" Finnik ignores her, groaning as her
body wiggles against him "we can, you are my wife." Asch pushes his shoulders, arching away, only to further push herself into his wandering hands. "My parents-" "are not going to stop me from pleasing my pretty wife" his words send a shiver up her spine, one she knew he felt.


Asch's pretty figure was puttied between his fingers. Her shoes slipped off from standing on her toes, her dress was being hiked over her thighs. Asch let him tug the fabric, her skin prickled at the sudden breeze. Finnik prodded the pooled clump of her gown in her hands, silently asking her to take it with a dirty smirk. Asch did, holding it like a life line. Those clever fingers went right back to their place, thumbs snaking under her little panties. Finnik admired the soft silk, before wrenching it off and shoving her forward. A soft cry sprung out of her mount as she smacked into his flesh, Finnik hummed, squeezing her ass. The dress trapped between their bodies allowed Asch to move her hands, she steadied on his broad shoulders, squeezing the fine muscles.

"Up" he commands, prodding her. Asch gulps, doing as told, moving herself into his lap. Finnik made a pleased noise, grinning filthily as she spread her legs on either side of his hips. Asch felt his clever fingers work toward her cunt, rubbing the flesh with a small amount of roughness. Asch moans over his head, jerking into his touch. Finnik works his thick fingers, sliding it over the wet slit, the pink little lips shined and pulsed at his attentions. Finnik pressed on her opening, dipping his finger shallowly inside. Her cunt quivered, flexing around the digit. Before Asch could find pleasure, he teased away, grinning as she huffed quietly.

Finnik above all else, adored how easy it was to make his wife a mess. Bloodelves were sexual creatures by nature. Asch was a shy little thing, Finnik was still finding times, after all their couplings, Asch would be shamefully pink. Finnik's people didn't believe in modesty, they'd strip naked in front of anyone without a care. Asch didn't like a good many things, though. The women of her race were repressed, taught their pleasure wasn't important. Took Finnik nearly everything he had to rewrite her. Make her feel better about sex, feel like she mattered. Orcs were equals, their woman would not stand anything less.

It was quite backward, Bloodelves think themselves so advanced in everything, yet they shame their women out of powerful positions and make them meek and afraid. It was sickening. Finnik gave everything he had just to show his wife that she mattered. Asch was dignified, the position of power he gave to her was nothing small. Asch was the wife of a clan leader, at first she acted as though she was just a prize. Finnik will never forgot look of light in her eyes when one of his advisors dropped a stack of orders and complaints she had to deal with that day.

Still, things couldn't always be fixed so quickly as that. Asch was still rather shy about them. Finnik would push her, make her ask for things. It worked enough so far, she'd advance him and want things, she was open about it more each day. Another treasured memory he held dear was the day she asked to sit on his face. That was his favourite day.

Asch was rolling her hips into his teasing finger, panting in his ear. Finnik knew how frightened she was of her father, but he wouldn't go days without touching his wife, his mate. Finnik could compromise, he'd keep them quiet, smother their sounds and when they got home he'd amend it, make her wail and cry.

For now he was content to bury his fingers inside her wet heat, watching as she lost herself.

Asch came with a breathless cry, flinching into his shoulder, lips quivering against his neck. "Better?" He grins, gently removing his fingers. Asch gulps, nodding dumbly "love you" Finnik rumbles "I love you too"

Chapter Text

Asch is dumped on the filthy, wet ground, surrounded by upturned mud, it was dry in places, few spots even had grass and one even had a tiny flower.

"A gift, Warchief" the orcs voice was nasty and dull, subdued in a way it sounded respectful. Asch looks up, defiantly so, at the three large orcs the dull one was addressing. The middle one was the largest, most commanding of the three, he must have been Warchief. His skin was reddish brown, eyes yellow as a feral jungle cat. His shoulders were massive and his head was straight, looking at the other Orc in company, not so much as glancing Asch's crumple form.

The others were guards, holding heavy swords and wearing plated armor, they were looking at her with a roaring hunger in their eyes.

"Where did you get this?" His voice was gruff, gravely and harsh. The Warchief finally glances down, Asch stares back, watching his amber yellow eyes wash over her with veil interest. "Raiding party on the alliance barracks. Velen's daughter" the interest roared to life in the Warchief's eyes "was she touched?" The Warchief looked pleased with whatever the Orc behind him confirmed. She was harmed, they had been very harsh with her, even though she'd been compliant to their wishes, knowing no amount of any force would get her out of this terrible reality.

"Bring her to my quarters"

The orcs had all but shoved her toward the apartments of the Warchief. They were vast and simple in nature, very fine furs lay everywhere. Asch was pushed inside, hooves clicking on the stone "a bath was made and clothes. Be quick" the orc slammed the door, locking it behind him. As if she'd try to escape. The shadow cast under the door was the guards, she wouldn't try her luck out that way. The balcony was a swift exit, a practical fall to her death, but then. She would never hope to see her father again. Without another option Asch went about her bath. The tub was huge, not build for her. It was warm and steaming, her skin turned a darker shade of blue as she scrubbed away the dust and filth.

What was left for her to wear was nothing short of exposing. It was silk and small, barely hiding the intimate parts of her body. Asch put it on regardless, then went about cleaning her mud caked hooves with her worn fingers. Her hair was cleaned, the soot and filth washed from her beautiful blank white hair.

When she was finishing the second hoof, the guard came in, snarling with his usually glaring eyes "up. Now." Asch pecked the dirt off her fingers and scampered to him as commanded, holding the little silks hiding her body tight. Asch tumbled down the steps as he pushed, catching herself before she ever fell. They didn't chain her, but they knew that they wouldn't have too. Asch felt helpless.

The came back to the main chamber, the massive Orc with the cat eyes took no modesty as he looks over her, vile sparks of hunger and lust dilating his pupils. "Sit" was all he said, eying the little plush cushion by his feet. Asch hurried up the steps, quicker then the guard behind her so she wouldn't be pushed.

As she settled, Asch felt like a displayed trophy. Asch clinched her thighs tight and folded her arms across her chest, staring at the floor while men moved about them, the Warchief making no sound as he undoubtedly watched.

This reminded her of her fathers courts. Although, she wasn't naked, or afraid for her life, but it was very much like it. She would sit with her father, listen to his people's needs. The Warchief Garrosh Hellscream was doing just the same, listening to his counsel. Peaking at Asch while she ignored him and stared at the floor.

"Mhm" Garrosh grunts, leaning over "enough, be gone."

"Come, pet" Asch shot up, tripping into his chair, Garrosh eyed her, but said nothing.

Xxx

Asch bent into the sheets, the furs matted with her tears, Garrosh didn't care. He snarls, bending her over harshly. Garrosh tugged her tail, holding it up and out of the way, it burnt, like he was ripping it off. His cock stretched her insides, forcing her open. Asch sobbed, her body reacted to him, her thighs dripped, covered in their juices. Garrosh huffed into her ear, growling like a beast. Orc's mating was rough and long. Velen had told her in place of her mother what making love was suppose to be. Told her that it was equal parts trust and care, there was no care here at all. Garrosh was forcing his way into her body, scarring it with his own. Velen said it was the most pleasant thing in the world, that men were to be gentle, that she should expect nothing short of perfect. None of this was perfect. This was nothing like her father promised her. It was dangerous and she was bleeding badly, her insides hurt, but he persisted, making use of her completely. Asch could only cry. 


Xxx

The days were became the same, Asch would sit, be pretty and look at the floor until he told her to get up and follow him. The Warchief would have his way and the day would end with him tucking her on the side of the bed he never used and slept.

Asch wasn't acknowledged by anyone, until today.

A guard grabbed her horn, tugged at her until she craned up to look at his foul face, Garrosh glances over, brow furrowed. Asch wasn't allowed to protest, she dare not voice her complaints. "Pretty mouth" the guard says, Garrosh hisses through his nose "drop her" the guard eyes him, clearly annoyed.

"Ain't sharing?" Asch bats at him, prying her horn away, backing into the Warchief's legs "no."


Asch felt the meat of his fat leg behind her, between the blades of her shoulders, feeling her horn there was tangled hair. Asch fixed it quickly and ignored the safe feeling she had pressed into the Warchief.


Xxx

"Why?" Asch was careful when speaking to him, but she had to know. Garrosh looks at her with puzzlement in his dark eyes "hmm?" "Why did you... stop him?" Neither of them forgot, Asch especially. The Warchief shrugs "I don't share" Asch knew nothing was off limits in his culture, they shared things, because that was the way. Asch didn't think she would be warmed by that, but she smiled lightly. At least she wouldn't be subjected to his guards.

Xxx


Asch struggled this time, pushing at his arm "no!" She shrieked, Garrosh roars, forcing her into the furs "w-wait! Please!" She begs, Garrosh halts, still squeezing her flesh "please what?" Asch shivers at his cruel tone. "I... I want to pleasure you like she did" this must have confused him because his grip went lax, then he erupts in laughter, mocking her "you are a meek little Draenei-" "let me try? Please!" If Asch was suppose to be his plaything, then that she would be. Garrosh had others, like the orc. He was easy on her, he let her roam the halls without guards. Asch would gain his counsel, make him enjoy her company and let her have things, it was the only hope she had to escape and find her father.


Garrosh snorts, clearly amused, but relents, leaning into all the plush pillows behind him "fine, little blue skin. Do as you wish"

Asch was intimidated, but she stood her ground, grinding on his cock, nibbling his neck. Garrosh made little weak noises, but Asch worked, hardly deterred. She certainly wasn't sure what men liked, Asch teased his cock, thrusting only the head in before sliding it between her lips, making him jut and quiver for the heat between her legs. Asch wouldn't allow it yet, she needed him to think of her just like that orc woman. Asch continued to tease his cock, pleasuring herself with it as well, finding the little spikes of arousal making her wet. Asch had never been told how to pleasure a man, nor how to pleasure herself, so she did what felt right. Garrosh growls now, grabbing at her hips greedily, thumbs digging into her pelvic bone. "On with it blue skin. I won't wait much longer." His tone made it sound final, Asch gulping, did as he asked. For weeks her body shaped too him, making it easier to take him fully like he wanted. it was painful at first, but soon she worked him into a snarling orgasm.


Xxx

"Dance for me pretty pet" Asch peers at him with hooded eyes, arching her back to look behind her, Garrosh had her dress in silk and bangles. Her horns were covered in jewels and thin chains, Asch puckers her lips jutting them out cutely before listening to him.


Garrosh was a jealous creature, Asch was clever enough to use that. Asch had no music, but she went down toward the open floor, peaking at all the company, smiling sweetly as she swirled her hips and twirled her wrists like she was casting a beautiful earth spell. Her skirt jingled, along with the beautiful headpiece. Asch danced toward the men, hitting them in the face with her silks until they had a dazed look. Asch touched their cheeks tenderly, giggling at them over the sounds of talking. Garrosh's mouth was hidden behind his fist as he watched with dark eyes as she twirled around the room, giving each their own little show.

Xxx

Asch had been playing this game for weeks, playing pretty and tantalizing, finally it payed off. Garrosh beckoned her one night as he was working "what can I do for you?" She coos sweetly, fluttering around his back, running her fingers over his tattoos, he mutters, not really saying anything at first, then gestures to a chair "sit, I have something for you" Asch blinks wide eyes, confused and honestly excited.

It only takes him a moment, but he turns to her, with a little smirk "you've been a pleasant surprise, little blue skin. Give me your arm." Asch does without question, Garrosh leans over to his desk, plucks a quill and sketches something of a smaller part of his own inked tattoos, it's artful, mimicking the swirl. "It'll hurt" is all he says before stabbing an inking tool, Asch endures with a tight face as he carves into her unmarked flesh, creating his unique swirl. This is what the other woman had, the mark. This meant she could leave the confines of the hold, go outside, escape without question.

Asch was happy.



Way into future

Asch was sweltering in her armor, the hot sun was blanketed for miles by the tree line, but it made the heat trap and boil the air. The jade forest was unkind to her plate. When her squad came to the camp she freed her hair from its pigtails, letting it flow behind her. Jania Proudmoore was directing some men before spotting her "Asch! Just in time!" Asch didn't know what she was on time for, she got a rather urgent message and was rushed here by boat.


"What am I doing here?" The Mage embraced her, looking cold and hardly bothered by the heat, Jania's touch was windy and frozen, it made Asch shiver before returning to her over heated state.

"Vindicator Celli recommend you for the job!" She says smiling widely, Asch cocks her brow, head tilted. "What job is it?" She asks again, fluffing her hair. "Prisoner escort and care" jania explains, Asch almost swore she saw snowflakes come out of her mouth. "Standard as it goes, mages will enchant the cage, you will ride with the squad and stay for the trial" Asch recoils slightly "trial?" Jania nods, "we can't have just an execution... no matter how much I want one. The Augusts Celestials requested there be a fair trial."

That made the job a little harder, far riskier and higher profiled. Asch was a competent Vindicator, certainly one that could handle such a delicate job. "Who is my team escorting?"

"Garrosh Hellscream"

The life drains out of her eyes.


It had been two years since she escaped him and his tortures, she still had the black, foul looking marking on her arm that signified her a slave owned. She dare never tell her father, Asch hid it from prying eyes, no one knew what he had done too her, what he made her do. Velen didn't even imagine it, because his daughter was so good at lying.

Seeing him again, it would make her feel sick, numb. Even though he was a prisoner, Asch would feel like the weak, broken woman he captured. Asch swallows, schooling her face as though she was indifferent "where am I taking him?" Jania conjured a floating map, pointing to their location "you are taking him from this point, to the Temple of the White Riger, in Kun-Li summit. You'll be crossing through the Vale. It should take a month at best, since the areas a hostile. The shire of seven stars also wishes to host you, the counsel will be there to meet with you, that will add an week or more to the trip." Asch was the squad leader, as she agreed to be when this was brought to her. Now she does not wish to have any part what so ever.


Asch mounted her pale white crane, gifted to her as a show of faith from the Pandaren people, the bird swayed side to side, making little coos, but it was well trained and Asch felt how calm the beauty was. Asch however, was worried sick, the cage was to arrive from the boat, being overseen by Jania, she would meet them here any minute with the rest of her escort and Garrosh. Asch shucked in harshly, scowling at the forest path ahead. She could do it, would do it. Maybe he wouldn't remember her, after all she wasn't special to him, just another plaything. Garrosh had so many consorts and pleasure slaves, some of her own kind and others of his own, but she doubted they objected to his advances.


At best he wouldn't remember, Asch would suffer in silence and await the great tigers judgement.

"Incoming! Lady Proudmoore!" Asch swallowed and made her mount spin.


Asch never saw Jania, or the people with her, they were blurs, all clouded around Garrosh. The orc looked exactly the same, a few new scars and an even fouler snarl, but completely as she remembered. Even down to her regal aura, despite the cage. Asch felt powerless, staring at him, shaking.

The mighty Warchief peered up, wild yellow eyes staring at her very soul, Asch froze, his brow furrowed, head jutted a little, then what scared her the most.

A smirk.


Asch shriveled inside.

"Vindicator!" Jania calls, ignoring the orc completely while she trots her horse to stand in front of Asch "my mages are ready and the escort is mounting. I will leave this to your capable hands" Asch bows her head without a words, too afraid to say anything, worrying herself sick. Garrosh remembers her, what if he exposes her? She would be in trouble, her father would find out what had happened to her. Garrosh still stares at her, Asch ignores him, pretending to fix her cloak. Jania notices none of it, the shame on her face, or the orc's sickly devious look.

"Farewell, good journey" Asch snaps up "yes, be safe!" It sounds awkward, but the Mage doesn't say anything. Asch closes her eyes, but she still sees the orc. "Form up! We ride until dusk!" Asch turns her bird, knowing what follows behind her.

Chapter Text

 

Chapter Text

Asch was tense and cramping in her armour, coiled like a winding snake. The soldiers were too hot to notice, the Mages walking next to the cage noticed, but said nothing other then confused glances they left the Vindicator alone. The night slowly turned the boiling heat into a haze of musky warm, still hot but now it was foggy and wet.

They had to ride in the hot, musky weather much further then they'd been told. The camp they were suppose to meet had to be set up miles away from the original spot because of attacks. By the time they arrive it was well into sundown. Asch was tired and sticky as they wheeled toward the open of the camp.

"Vindicator! Where would you like the prisoner?" Asch flinched, glancing at his cage, pulls a clump of her hair away from her sweaty face and sighs "in the heart. Feed him and make sure he drinks. I will sleep in the tent closest." The Mage nods, hurrying to do as told.

Asch fed her mount, carrying its reins toward the stall where she could let it rest. The Mage and soldiers had long since gone, none bothering to stay close because of how the camp was. No one had to watch him, he was in the middle of their camp, soliders could see him easily, hardly in ear shot. Garrosh was ripping at his bread and gulping the water left for him. Asch didn't look at him. She could hear all the disgusting noises. Garrosh however was watching her, smirking as he finished off his bread.

"You cut your hair" his voice was soft, mocking. Asch felt her heart pulse "I liked it long" Asch ignores how genuine it sounds, "I don't much care for what you like" she snaps back, feeling foolish for even responding. It was what he wanted "you used too" he says, wide lips curling around a thick smirk "you were a good girl for me" Asch spins on her hooves, swirling up dust and dirt, ruining the soft patch of grass. Asch was giving him what he wanted, she kept telling herself that, but even all that couldn't stop her.

"Was I? Just like the rest of them?" Garrosh tilted his head, laughing lightly. It was a gruff noise, one of derision "jealous blue skin?" Asch hisses, snorting lightly and digging her feet into the soil. "How many stayed Orc? Did they all flee like me that day? How good were they?!" Garrosh still laughs at her "you were so timid, what happened little blue skin? I miss my timid little cock pleaser" Asch snarls at him "she became your warden. I revel delivering you to death!"


Garrosh snorts once more "if they rule it so, still I shall enjoy breaking you, all over again" Asch froze.

If.

What did he mean if. Asch took a moment, Garrosh watches her, blinking his glowing eyes in boredom. This wasn't an execution. Garrosh could get away with it. The celestials could rule banishment, confinement. Freedom from death. Asch snarls her lip at the idea, "I'm finished with you."

Garrosh watches her through the bars, smiling triumphantly.


The next morning Asch left her food, pushed it away. Ignoring the pain in her stomach, the whizzy churning. Asch poked out of her tent and Garrosh was watching her, smiling over his bread and water. Asch wanted to beat him. Of course she resisted. "Vindicator!" One of the Mage's yell, blinking toward her in a flash of magic "the Horde escort was found- we have injured!" Asch springs into action, the Mage knew where to take her.

Garrosh watches it's a keen eye as Asch rushes over, the holy light pulses through her, washing over the broken and bruised Orcs, Bloodelves and Trolls "we staved off the atrackers m'lady" an Orc scout said, holding onto her arm "you did well, rest now. I have you" it didn't take long to seal their wounds, clean the blood and get them to rest. The cart they had brought carried a few of the weaker while the rest mounted.

"Mhm you still heal? Should've stayed a meek little priest blue skin" Garrosh comments, resting his elbows on his bent legs, Asch glares thinly "Vindicators are seasons in all forms. Healing is only one of my many duties and skills" the Mage shaped the cage "quiet Orc" they all knew she was captured. They didn't know for how long, or that he abused her. The way Asch told it, Garrosh had no idea who she was. That she was kept in a cage and no one hurt her. She fled and tried to find her way home for months, living off the land and finally came home. Reality of it was Asch got on a boat and got ho e the same week she escape.

They would take her off the case if they knew just how horribly he treated her. Asch didn't want it to begin with, but she wouldn't allow her reputation damaged because her past came back. Her father wouldn't allow her to work as a Vindicator if he knew.

"What does he mean? Is he bothering you?" The Mage hisses, tapping their staff against bars. Garrosh snorts, shrugging it off. "They rounded up prisons by class. I was among them. We had numbers. Now enough" Garrosh eyes her, but stays quiet.

It took a long time to get to the next checkpoint, Garrosh was fidgeting in his spot, watching Asch. The camp was set up the same as a last and Asch looked over the mountains, tomorrow they would be close to the shire, maybe a team would meet them and escort.

"They don't know" Garrosh says, picking at his tusks. Asch knew what he meant "no" he laughed, Asch hated his laugh "still daddies little girl are you?" He was mocking her, Asch glances at the guards, watching them mill about, none the wiser. "It's none of your business what I am" his eyes lit up "the blood on my cock told me I was your first. The scowl on your face says I was your last" Asch did not give him an answer, but he didn't need one.

"I am told no man can match" he was happy, again triumphant. Asch snapped "you don't even feel bad, do you? After it all, you lost- and... and yet you don't even care!" Garrosh watches her, saying nothing "I can't even get married- have a life after what you did to me" she was soiled, she couldn't be given away to anyone. Velen wanted her to marry, he had good intentions, found wonderful matches, but she couldn't. No man would want her.

"Mhmph" Garrosh grunts after a long while of silence "no one should" Asch whipped around, flaring in anger at him "I took you like a mate." Asch knew rudimentary parts of his culture because it was very similar to her own. Orcs take mates for life, they do not separate from them even in death. It was the most sacred thing in their shared cultures.

"You took everything from me" Garrosh peaks at her, hand slowly coming up, his finger got far enough to tenderly touch her face before she flinched away. His bulky hand still floated between the bars "Orc's have nothing else but honour" he mutters "I gave all of it too you"

"By raping me?!" Asch hated the word, it was ugly and harsh and made her fell like a victim again. A weak little girl.

"By mating you"

Chapter Text

 

Chapter Text

Asch hated how it made sense. Garrosh among many things had status, from himself, from his father. Anyone in his inner circle would have the same. Any in his bed was just as important. Asch didn't let his soft words mean anything, wouldn't let them. Asch was his favourite, more and more often she was requested, was kept near him at all times. Less and less were the others, it made them jealous. Garrosh didn't care.

Orc men give their women everything. Status, estate, name. Everything went to them dead or alive. Asch was his. Everyone knew it from the inner circle to Orirgimmar. It was surprising she could keep the whole thing a secret, with so many knowledgeable of her sire Asch figured it was bound to come out and be a shameful blot of her life.

Still, Asch wouldn't allow his words get to her, it was a perverted attempt to ensnare her. As they rode Garrosh didn't speak to her, hardly looked at her. Asch assumed it was bad, but couldn't feel upset at his lack of interest. The less he spoke the better she was off. They were close to the connecting point where the vale and jade forest merged. Many of her vanguard were staggering away, having only been allowed through certain checkpoints. As of now, most of her original guard were replaced. It was made up of mostly Horde now, it didn't bother her. Many of them were hand picked by Thrall and Vol'jin. Even a few of Bloodhoofs were here.

The Mages ended up being four of five remaining humans. The last being one final guard that would depart before the Vale to deliver orders. Jania said the safety of the travel made it easy for both Horde and Alliance to get things done without being raided. Asch could careless wh she was appointed, so long as hey listened to her.

Though the peace was short lived as they came into the mountains. Rushing rivers that connected the forest to the wilds raged to their left as the jungle grew thick and dark to their right.

The thoughts of safe were far from her mind as she watched the growing blackness. A huge crack and thud, then howling. Hozen erupted like a sea "attackers!" Asch shouted, the Horde with her sprang into action, a fight ensued around the black jungle.

Garrosh' cage was being battered, the Mage's there tried to keep the Hozen off, Asch launched herself toward it, trying best to help. Garrosh looked disgruntled, confused and overall annoyed as they attempted to rip it over.

Ultimately, they had succeeded the Hozen forced the cage over and it rolled off the hill, into he rushing water. The Mage's with her had long since fell and the Horde had not noticed the cage go off, Asch fell with it, yelling as it forced her in the water. Garrosh looked shocked as the bars bend and the wood broke. The rapids threw her about, her armour denting as it cracked into the sharp rocks.

Asch could barely breath, water was everywhere, she tried desperately to get above the rushing waters, but hardly had the strength for it. Garrosh saw, he too was being roughly handled by the water, but easily kept himself above. With no other choice and quick decision he pushed himself off the rocks and grabbed onto Asch as she fell under the water again. Asch was dazed, she was bleeding but Garrosh was strong enough for the both of them, he held Asch's head above the water and kept her from hitting the rocks with his own body. His hide took the brunt of it, Garrosh kept Asch close, pressed as best he could, the water wouldn't clear anytime soon, he didn't fight it. They would wash up safely soon enough. Where, Garrosh had no idea.


It took hours, Garrosh didn't know how many, maybe more then a day. It was dark when they arrived at the Vale opening, it was dark again now. Garrosh couldn't tell what time or how long they'd spent it he water. He only fought to keep themselves alive through it. When the current finally strives off, they come to an abandon beach, surrounded by forest and damp air. Asch was knocked unconscious, though he doubts she would know where they were.

Garrosh was soaked through by the time he crawled out of the water. The sand stuck to him wetly and Asch dangled off his massive shoulder like a bail of hay. One thing he did know was that if he didn't find them shelter and get a fire going they'd freeze. Pandaria was known to be deathly hot in days and as cold as Northend in nights. The bone chill was settling in, he didn't have much time.


Garrosh managed to find a cave, it was damp and very small, but still. He didn't leave Asch there, small worry that she would wake up and get lost in a panic, so he carried her over his massive shoulder. She was breathing, it was a dead sleep, he was slightly glad for it. The woman hasn't gotten much of it. It was no secret to him if just how fond he was of this woman, it only grew when she left, making a big hole in her wake. Garrosh knew people called it love, but he had done wrong. If it was the last thing he'd do in this world, he would attempt to do what little right he could. Maybe then dying wouldn't be so bad. Asch was wrong, he did care, he did feel bad. She wouldn't believe him now. Garrosh would try, despite how little it might work. Then he could go peacefully.

Garrosh imagined the trial would pretend to be fair, they would give him hope of banishment someplace. Garrosh thought about it, where he might be put. Outland seemed good a place as any. He could be cast away, live whatever he had left and atone for his crimes. His family name was prideful, but they were humble before. Simple clansmen, Garrosh had little knowledge of farming, but he figured he could learn. Though, a swift death was likely in his future. Still, one could hope.

For now, he grabbed wood, all scattered along the ground, without his weapon Garrosh was forced to find two shapely rocks, he could make one at least. Fish was the best choice on this hell of a continent, here Garrosh had no idea what was favourable to eat, or even safe. Fish were almost always safe. And if not, it wouldn't matter much.

Garrosh wondered idly when Asch would wake up, how she would react. He knew they'd have to find a way back to the vanguard, he'd do nothing to upset her however. Asch stirred over his shoulder, but didn't wake up. At some point he hoped she would. Out of the two of them, she was the only one trained in healing. His cuts and bruises were easy to deal with, large in size but mangable, he'd lost a lot of blood and water they were in was salt water, he knew that was bad. Asch though, he couldn't tell how bad her injuries were. Wouldn't look either not until she was awake. Garrosh wasn't about to make her panic more.

Garrosh managed to spear a handful of fish and trudged back to the cave, he left Asch on the wet sand floor and tended to a fire.

Asch shutters, her head pounded and she was freezing. Her eyes shot open and the light of the fire blinded her for a moment. "Careful" an amused and tired voice said to her, Asch let her eyes focus and the brownish blob became a man, an Orc. Garrosh sat on ass, poking a little stick through the fire as fish sizzled over its flame. The loincloth barely hid his modesty, Asch tried to get up, but found her arms to weak.

"We fell in the rapids. Don't know where we ended up. You were out for some time." Asch remembered being attacked and getting launched in the water. "Y-You saved me...?" Garrosh peaks at her "couldn't let you die, could I?" He could, probably should have. But he didn't have the heart to see her die. More and more each day he felt the grip of Sha drown away, he felt like himself again. That self was little and locked away, but while the Sha abused Asch, he felt love and fondness, a bond. It was smothered by need and fowl anger. His care for her however endured still.

Garrosh never in his life assumed he'd find a mate, or one that would be it. Asch among all was a surprise. A Draenei who fought the Sha inside him and lived. Her race didn't matter, Orc and Draenei were compatible in culture and sex. He doubted very much they could make a go at it though.

"You're going to freeze in that armour" Garrosh didn't want to see her shiver any longer, but she probably wouldn't dare take any of it off. Asch gathered herself enough to sit up. She felt sand and water and pain. Shaking her head at the idea, Garrosh shrugged, looking rather warm and comfy. "Food is nearly ready" Asch saw the piss poor job he did of wrapping his cuts. Her side felt clumpy and blood crusted over her head. Garrosh tipped a warped piece of wood with water in it toward her.

Asch wrung her hair out, Garrosh paid close attention to their food, hoping it wouldn't burn. His stomach could handle it, he doubt very much she could though.

Asch spent time washing away the dirt and grime. She took off her cloak, shoulder plates, gloves and boots, letting them sit by an open side of the fire. Though, it didn't help much. Asch was still freezing. She was wearing little linens underneath but she'd be damned if she would expose herself like that to him. Asch wasn't about to give him an excuse. Asch got up, Garrosh watches her do it, watches her stumble and even stops her from falling with a swift hand. Asch lurches away. Outside the cave was nothing, water and disturbed sand. Trees were behind and the cold brushed over her in a gust of wind. Asch quickly went inside, falling toward the fire.

Garrosh grabbed his skewer of fish and watched Asch do the same, still freezing. "You're going to get sick" he mused, trying to prompt her into sense. "I'm f-fine!" Asch snaps back, teeth chittering "I doubt that" Asch glares at his response "we're both each other's best chance at surviving" it was practical, Asch could understand that, still he let it slip "I won't hurt you."


Asch was told a lot of his crimes were committed under the influence of the Sha, that a lot of it would be accounted for, but dismissed at his trial, this included what he did to her. More she thought about it the more likely banishment remains a proper judgement. Sha were anger feeding beasts, Garrosh had much anger, a perfect host. Now, as it drained out of him, he seemed sad, remorseful, painfully aware of his sins. Asch still needed more, but she knew for now that he was correct.

Garrosh didn't watch her strip, but images of their past came to mind, Sha tainted memories, but he could see her body, it still remained nice, shapely. Many scars over her arms and neck, Garrosh didn't look further. It was trust he wanted back, he would get it.

Asch wouldn't admit it but she felt better, the cold hung around her, but wasn't overly present anymore. She felt exposed, they were equally naked, small barriers of cloth hiding intimate parts of the them. There wasn't much talking as they ate. The darkness seeped outside, the only light was their little fire. Garrosh however found a large bark piece and stuffed it in the entrance to snuff out the light.

Garrosh twinges at the pain in his side, Asch huffs "come here, I can fix that." No sense in him dying before his trial. Or before they get out of this. Garrosh's massive frame moves silently toward her. His body heat was radiating in waves, Asch was still freezing. It always annoyed her how Orc's were so warm.

Asch used her light magic and closed his wounds, bigger cuts left little white scars, but Garrosh didn't seem to complain. It tickled in all honestly, he had never felt this kind of magic before, his count was full of Shamen, not paladins or priests. Asch mended her wounds as well. It only took a few minutes to be done with it all. Asch was exhausted but the time she finished, the pain and tiresome journey made her weak, Garrosh seemed to also feel strains, it carried heavily in his shoulders. They sagged, making the impressiveness they usually had a little less. Asch dousing blame him.

"Thank you" she says quietly, remembering her manners "you didn't have too" Asch wasn't going to ask why. Garrosh shrugs "wouldn't look very good if you died" not that it was his only reason to keep her alive, but he wasn't about to admit how much he cared. Asch seems disappointed by his brush off, "you are light" was all he said. Asch couldn't figure out why, she wasn't going to speak at his trial, whatever happened here between them would not reverse what he did, even help his case. One good did not outweigh. Why had he kept her alive, was it impulse? He was still good natured, even more so now that the Sha was vanishing from his body. Was it out of necessity? They could easily keep each other alive. He was big, Garrosh overpowered anyone he came by. Asch knew the land, barely, but she hand an idea.

Maybe he was doing this all just to hurt her again. She could do little against him, even trained as she was. Garrosh was still massive, much bigger then he used to be. Orc men seem to never stop growing. If he wanted, he could do as he said, break her all over agin and have his fun. No one would know, Asch wouldn't tell a soul. Garrosh hadn't, still might, but right now. They sat, both looking at the fire.

"You'll need me to keep warm blue skin" he mutters in passing, watching the flames "your people have slow blood" that was true, Asch and many like her found it hard to keep warm, it was mostly females, men didn't have much an issue keeping body heat. Asch was terrible for it, her mother was always freezing, even wearing the thickest furs. Father told her it was uncommon. It was a blessing in hotter climates. Here it was a nightmare.

Asch worries her tongue, knowing what he meant. She would have to huddle into him for warmth, rely on him to not do anything. It was a big risk, but Garrosh did warrant something of trust, having brought them the shelter and feeding her. Asch relented a little, nodding carefully "are you tired?" Asch nods, "mhm" he answers, beckoning her closer. It took a while for Asch to move, Garrosh seemed content to wait.

When she did he slid down in the sand, holding up his arm for her to slot under. Asch finally pushed herself to rest against him, the arm hovering came down, making a comforting weight. "Gods" he hisses, fidgeting "you are fucking freezing" Asch finds a little humour in his statement, pressing her hands into his abs. Garrosh groans in mock pain, making her laugh.

There was a smile present on his face and persisted as they fell asleep in each others embrace.

Chapter Text

Asch awoke to a loud, calm noise. It went, ba-dumpf, ba-dumpf. Asch realized she was a top Garrosh, her limbs draped over him. His heart was a powerful noise, he was breathing deep and moving Asch up and down, it felt strange. Garrosh was very warm, so Asch didn't bother to move. Garrosh wasn't awake either, so instead of ruining the peace Asch let it be. One massive arm was draped over her, it seemed that was how she was moved in the night. It didn't matter, Asch for once didn't try and overthink.

Asch peaked open, looking at him with sleepy interest. Garrosh never looked so calm. It was rare to see him like this, Asch had never once got the privilege. She took the moment to just stare. Garrosh had very sharp tusks, that had never changed. Somehow he had always been gentle not to scratch her too hard, they each had matching rings stuck to them. Each had little matching designs that looked rather beautiful. Asch remembered how lush his hair was too, he let her touch it before. Garrosh looked much like his father when he wore it up.

Grom, Asch remembered to be quite imposing, his son certainly inherited that. In many ways the two were the same, though Asch would never tell him. His father was bloodthirsty and calculating. He touched her head when her father met him one day, Asch doesn't remember what they spoke of, only that the big Orc had smiled at her around his tusks. Garrosh had the same smile.

Garrosh finally stirred, he could feel Asch awake atop him, her little tail was swaying, tickling his fingers. Garrosh grabbed the thin muscle, smiled as Asch yelped, flintching against him "morning blue skin" Asch fidgets as his eyes open, a heavy blush on her cheeks. Garrosh forgot that her tail was sensitive. He let it go without giving it away that he knew, at least attempting to let her salvage some dignity.

Draenei were surprising creatures. Garrosh learnt a lot about them, well before he met Asch and from then only grew when she came into his life. Women were much smaller then their men, never as dark in any shade and their eyes were a much brighter hue. Their little tails were a sexual pleasure centre, very unlike men. Their horns were much softer too. Asch was gorgeous to both Orc and Draenei standards. Garrosh never thought he would find their women attractive. It was interesting to say the least. Orc women were strong by nature, Draenei women were strong by choice.

"Did you sleep?" Asch was disgruntled, whipping her little tail into him as punishment, it didn't hurt but he let her do it until she was satisfied. "Yes" Garrosh grunts, nodding once before sitting up with her In his lap, carefully letting her drop onto the sand next to him. Asch slides off like slim, watching him with big eyes.

Garrosh brushes hair from her neck, looking at her with soft eyes. He quickly snaps out of it, ignoring how it felt and wrenches upward, bones cracking as he goes. Asch stays in the sand, watching him. "Your armour is warped" he comments, looking over at the pieces "unwearable" Asch laments, it was far to beat up and bruised to attempt to wear, without a proper blacksmith it would likely stay that way. Garrosh shrugs "better that way. You'll make too much noise in it, attract to much attention" he was right, it would be far too loud and though she trusted Garrosh to get them out of situations, she rather not be the one putting them in it.

"We should leave. Better we don't stay here" Asch clambered up, mushing her hair as she followed him out, only stopping as he did when he got outside "do you know this place?" Asch took a long moment, the land was open, one side cut off by sea and the other thick jungle.
"Did we fall off a waterfall?" Garrosh nods without a moment of hesitation, Asch sighs lightly.

"We're somewhere in Karsang wilds"

"Quickest way?" Asch pouts, thinking. It wasn't safe by any means, given that they had to stay off the main road "we need to get to Zhu's basin, it should be that way. We can take the hidden road up to the original route and hope we meet our party" they hadn't made any protocols for losing each other, it wasn't suppose to be complicated, Asch hoped they would stay at the final check point. If not, walking all the way to the Vale would take a very long time. Now that they had to trudge through the wilds.

"Safest?" Garrosh dared ask, Asch shrugs, "isn't much of one. We're best being quick. It'll easily take two months on foot, maybe more" Asch doubted very much they would send lookout parties, no one had seen them fall into the rapids, nor was anyone on their team well versed in explaining where they might end up. At best if the natives ask, they'd say somewhere in the forest. If anyone had survived that is.

Jania might pull together something, but she hardly knew the land either. Asch knew it only so well because her father helped her map study and the nights here were never full of sleep. She studied the map best she could. At least her sleepless night weren't in vein.

"Come then" he sounds winded, annoyed. Asch was too. Garrosh let her ahead of him and followed as they skated through the jungle, edging around the brush.

Asch wondered how this all happened. At first she wasn't told much of the mission beyond prisoner escort, probably because it was important. Asch decided to help only because it was asked of her. It didn't pay well, nor was it worth the trouble. Asch wished she was still home under the light of the Exador.

"You still have my mark" Garrosh surprises her, Asch looks at the tattoo, then back at him "I couldn't remove it, they would all know what it meant" everywhere she went everyone knew what it meant. Garrosh was famous for having marked his pleasure slaves. Like cattle. Asch ignored how that made her feel overall. There was a small part of her that liked it, crazy as it was, it was like a victory symbol, she had won. "Some might even return you" it sounded like a joke, but it wasn't. Many Horde still held his banner, for the time he was Warchief, Garrosh did a lot to improve his people's way. He brought traditions back to the modern Horde. People thanked him for it, gave them hope like no other. Garrosh had been inspiring before the corruption of the Sha.

Still, Asch hid the mark under her hand with shame. Garrosh looks at his feet, it was hard, but he uttered "I'm sorry" it almost made Asch stop completely, Orc's did not apologized for anything, it was a sign of weakness. Garrosh especially. Asch tripped over her hooves looking back at him, he looked very much sorry.
"It's okay" Asch didn't know what to say, Garrosh shot her a look "don't say it if you don't mean it" she shut her mouth. Now it was awkward.

Asch gulps "I will mean it, one day" they don't say anything more.

Chapter Text

 


They had trekked very far, Asch wasn't sure how long they had been out in the wilds but the trees were thinning out, Garrosh looked hot and annoyed, not with her, but Asch knew if they came into any problem, Garrosh would surely kill it. Asch felt naked, having worn armour and robes, it was unnatural. Garrison seemed fine, wearing little to nothing.

Asch wanted something more, something to cover her exposed back and soft belly, she wouldn't ask. There was tension between them, but that wasn't new. It was different a layer over the old version. Their relationship changed, Asch couldn't deny that. It was out of necessity, they needed each other. Asch needed him to survive this mess and Garrosh needed her to get them out of it.

And they'd never believe him if she showed up dead, but Asch wasn't going to think about that.

It was equal, Asch wasn't equal before, it was always him over her. A pleasure slave wasn't even above live stock. Asch stares at the back of his skull, prickles of his black hair was growing from the neck up, he was massive. Asch had always noticed he was a big man, but it was clear he was much larger then his father. Even after being under him, draped around him.

Asch never realized until now just how far his shadow draped.

Garrosh looked behind him, eying her with his milky yellow eye. It was beautiful, his eyes were gorgeous. When he looked at her, Asch felt his power. "Suns going down" Asch gulps "we can keep going" Asch liked the shadow he cast, it would be cold once the sun went down, but now she hid behind the shade. Garrosh grunts at this, brow pintched.

"The mountain line thinned out, no chance of a covering. We need to find tree brush" Asch slept under the stars before, not under these stars. Her home had beautiful stars, before her mother died she adored the stars and cosmos. Velen told her long after her mothers passing that she had twinkling eyes, like the stars themselves were captured inside. Asch looked at the stars of her new home and felt connected.

"Yes, it looks as though we are merely days out from Zhu basin" Asch touches the rock, dusted with sand. While she walked behind him Asch wondered just what would happen when they got back, obviously she would speak out of what he had done, though it might matter little. Thrall would certainly not forgive him.

The Horde were people Asch admired, the Alliance were a people of progress, where Horde valued traditions and old ways. Garrosh had brought that back, Thrall was a good leader, though he lacked knowing his people, not his fault but still, it showed very much. Vol'jin was a man of spirit whereas Varian did not put much stock in believing. Velen was noble, the Narru was a gift and the little Prince was learning under her father. Asch had met him many times.

The little princling spoke often of the light and peace, of love between the Horde and Alliance. Thrall had married a Nightelven Priest, Asch hadn't seen the woman herself, but had heard of peace talks between the leaders. Velen was for it, but it was vetoed harshly by the rest, the mate of Thrall was banished and to be captured if found near Alliance territory. Asch wanted the treaty desperately.

As a paladin Asch put great stock in people, her faith was from her father and she never assumed anything of anyone. Even Horde people's. in fact, she found she fit in greatly with Shamen's and Druids, they were in tune with the earth, the elements. Just as she was with the light. Asch especially enjoyed listening to Tauren, they all had gentle voices, sound minds and only did what the earth mother needed.

Many didn't agree with her, Dwarfs and humans hated Horde, Gnomes spoke rudely of Goblins and most of her own people would kill Orcs on sight. Velen would not tolerate such a thing. Even though many atrocities were committed against her people her father would not want vengeful bloodshed.

Asch couldn't kill Garrosh Hellscream, even with what he had done.

The night was climbing over the bend and Asch prodded Garrosh to follow her into the patch of forest. The floor silenced her clopping hooves and his big thuds. The grass was soft against her bare ankle while the tree leaves tickled her hair and horns. Garrosh wasn't amused by any of it, fattening the grass and cracking the branchs that tried to touch him.

"We can't set up a fire" she told him, it could attract animals and even worse, set the brush on fire. Garrosh grunts, snapping another branch "find us a small clearing then blue skin" Asch narrows her eyes, but doesn't retort, knowing it would end in her own misery.

Asch looked up through the trees, the starts poked out. "Do you remember your mother?" She asks without thought, his mother had died much like her own. Not in battle of course, in her bed. She died sleeping, holding onto her husband. Garrosh snorts "of course not, my father neither" he was angry at the question, that was obvious. Asch persisted.

"My mother was colored just like me" an air of pride comes over Asch "my father says I look just like her, she loved the stars. She died from poisoning. The legion" Asch remembered little of her mother, besides what her father told her. She had one imagine of her mother, Asch wa spooking up at her, her mother was smiling. It was her happiest memory of her.

"Dishonorable way to pass" Garrosh has first hand knowledge of this, but Asch didn't comment on it, instead she shrugs "my mother believed it wasn't without purpose. Now she is a star, just as she always wanted" Velen called her his heavens light, he called Asch his little light. "I know she was a shamen, that she loved the earth and above. That I was named for her love of fire" Asch grins and Garrosh, though his face was still fowl.

"Here is a good spot" Asch points to an empty area, it was small but covered them perfectly. Garrosh pushes passed, flopping in the ground. Asch smiles still at him, going to him and popping down, leeching into his skin and warmth. "My father wanted me to know of her, know that through their suffering she was still hopeful-"

"Enough blue skin" he growls, whirling around completely. Not a second later he looms over her with a snarl. Asch lets fear swallow her, flashes of before came to her, being under him like this, helpless.

But it stops.

Garrosh presses his head into her collarbone, sighing deeply into her bare skin "I never knew my parents." Asch feels his breath, the shallow exhale and wheezy intake. Slowly, she touches him, her hand comes up in its own and lightly grips his side, squeezing the taught muscle "I am sorry" he shakes his head against her "it is not yours to be sorry for" Asch licks her lips, casting her eyes away. She did feel sorry. She had met Grom Hellscream, he smiled at her with his pearly tusks.

Garrosh maybe never saw that. It hurt to think such. Instead Asch quiets her mind, shaking it away and cooking her arms best she could around Garrosh, the Orc went stiff, but allowed her this. Asch didn't know why it brought her comfort, his warmth was intoxicating and secure, something she never though she would feel with the Warchief.

Garrosh furrows his brow against her supple skin, for days in the jungle she smelt pretty, like the sweat caking her neck, shoulders and forehead wasn't sweat at all. Asch's Narru marking flared to life, something Garrosh had never seen before. It glowed bright, blinding him. Asch gasps, going cross eyed "oh!" Garrosh blinks, squinting at her.

Garrosh had heard little about this, the Draenei signet, the Narru light that inhibited them. Nothing was written about them, they were sacred.

"What is that?" Garrosh could see her face darken, a blush as pretty as indigo. "It's... it's our symbol, all are different" Asch's was a baby blue color, thin tails spring outward and in the middle floated a square, on the outside had many little dots. "What's does it mean?" Aschs face keeps coloring "it means... that I have.... I am at peace t-true peace" Garrosh was shocked by this.

Once he overcame is surprise Garrosh realized just how close they were. His clothed groin pressed lightly against her soft, pinched together legs. He could feel the arousal peak, desperately he ignored it. Asch still has her hands on him, gripping the meat of his sides, careful she tried to move, but Garrosh hisses low, shaking his head "don't move blue skin."


Asch froze, this was all too familiar. Garrosh looks at her with shame, embarrassed that he couldn't controls his basic urges. "It's alright" she whispers, hiding her face in the crook of her shoulder, the signet still floating there like a beacon.
"We should sleep" Asch tells him, urging him with gentle pushes, Garrosh nods curtly, making no noise. Quickly moving so he was on his side. It went deathly quiet, the crickets making the only sounds beside the gently sway of branches. Garrosh shrivels, the arousal now filled with guilt.

Until her little petal soft voice floats in his head "it's cold" she tells him, crowding his space. Garrosh finds the courage to look back at her, the signet still laminating her skin. "Come" his voice was low, almost loving. Asch scurries, disturbing grass as she goes, folding herself into his body like she was meant to be there. Garrosh didn't think to much about it as her eyes fluttered shut and her hands pressed into his skin.

Slowly he brings her closer, flush against him. Garrosh cradles her back with his hands, stroking under the brown loose linen and down to the base of her tail. It felt like home as he drifted, thinking of the pretty mark.

Chapter Text

Asch dressed in very light pink silks, Finnik wore simple leathers, the dinner was large but the people were few, Asch's family was surrounded by guards, her father was at the head of the table, her mother was at Resis left and her brother was to his right. Finnik was right next to Asch. It was quite odd looking, he was far to large to fit, but made it work. Everywhere but his own home he was too large to fit.

"Oh sister please you have to tell me!" Vela bursts, cupping her hands "have you met our Regnant lord?" Asch laughs lightly, watching the stars light up in her little sisters eyes "I have, I danced with him. It was at a honour for Finnik. All the Horde leaders were there. Lothamer was sweet" Finnik chuckles, taking a gulp of water "I was dancing with Savaynans, we all made it a compatition. Thrall and his woman won" Resis hums thoughtful "the nightelf? Orcs do crave exotic I see" Asch could feel his fists clinched under the table.

Eli coughs, "how goes your paladin training?" It was a tradition in their family, the first born son would become a paladin. Asch wasn't suppose too, but did so anyway. Her father didn't like it, Asch was suppose to be a priest, be apart of the female legacy their family had, Vela didn't conform to it either.

Both were disappointments.

"I've finished, it has been thrilling. I was top my class!" Eli was happy for her, he and his sister looked proud of her. Unlike her mother and father, who stared and sipped their wine. "Finnik, that wolf you rode in with, beautiful creature. Where did you get her?" Eli was far more sweet then Asch gave him credit for. Finnik perked, smiling lightly at the question "Yellow-ear chose me long ago. Thrall was hosting me at his clans home. It's a tradition for the pups to pick their companion. She's been with me ever since" Asch giggles, smiling around her glass "I have one, not nearly as old, Havoc. Clumsy thing."

Eli laughs at her "much like you sister" Asch huffs at him, glaring playfully" she's beautiful" Vela coos "her fur looks so soft, you're so lucky to have one. Daddy won't let me!" Orgimmar breeds riding wolves, not as nearly as nice, but still gorgeous. "They are savage animals." Resis chides, looking awfully annoyed.

Finnik sighs heavily, having just about enough with his intolerance. Asch understands, when they were first mated no one trusted her, liked her even. Bloodelves were marked as thieves and social climbing whores. Some said as much. Finnik would beat them into apology.

Still, he doesn't say anything. The dinner crawls by, her siblings were curious about their lives, asking interesting questions, like enamoured children.

Even though the plates were cleared away, it wasn't polite to leave until the hosts decided, only then could Finnik and Asch escape. Finnik hated the rule, but it was Asch's culture and he'd never disrespect it. Though, he would be in the right too. All night long her mother and father had picked at his way of life.

"So Asch" Eli began again, turning himself toward her completely "you're the only one of the three of us who's even close, where are my little nieces and nephews?" Vela squeals, nodding along with her older brother, Finnik tenses harshly beside her, but Asch ignores him, grabbing his hand with both her smaller ones "we're trying" she gushes, holding Finnik's slack palm against her chest.

Finnik softens at the joy in his wife's voice and closes his stolen hand around her little ones, smiling lightly at her siblings excited faces "really? For how long? Are you pregnant already?" Eli laughs at his little sister, watching her bounce off the walls at the news "calm down little sister. They must be very busy, give it time."

Eli looks at his sister with adoration as he speaks "not too much time, I hope." Asch shakes her head "it won't be, I promise you'll be the next to know. I want you both there" Finnik peaks at her, worried slightly. Her siblings however look ecstatic, both mostly never left Silvermoon. It would be quite the adventure for the two if they came to Orgrimmar.

"We are tiring" Resis snaps, his wife looking red in the face "dismissed" Eli kisses his mother and his sisters, clapping Finnik on the arm before escorting Vela away. Finnik lets Asch take him to her room. Most of the house looked the same, it was hard to navigate. Asch seemed at home, knowing exactly where to go. But of course she would, it was her childhood home. Finnik wished he had such a thing.

Though he grew up with no such luck, he rather liked his upbringing. Every night he slept under the stars with the soldiers, everyday he met a new place. It wasn't until he met Thrall again did he finally settle in one place, become leader to his forgotten people. Few weeks after he met Asch.

"I'm sorry" Asch says, Finnik realizes they were in her room, the door shut "I'm so so sorry my love" Asch was beautiful, her face was pinched, but the moonlight made her dress sparkle and her eyes glint. "Don't apologize for them" Finnik holds himself open, though he was angry, he'd never turn it on his mate. Asch went to him, burying herself in his hide.

"Your siblings were a silver lining" Finnik whispers, tangling her hair. Asch hums thoughtfully "Vela has never seen an Orc before, she was very excited" Finnik chuckles, her younger sister was a delight among the sour of the dinner "we will have to host them when we get home."

Asch smiles, eyes half lidded "I'm glad you like them. At least something good came of all this" in truth Finnik did not believe anything good would come of being here.


It didn't take long to find their bed, the soft sheets felt nice. Asch was tucked to his side, breathing softly.

Chapter Text

It was night, the pale moonlight washed over their skin as they sat inside their cave. It was bigger then the others, still small. Asch looks over at Garrosh, he was fiddling with bamboo shoots, breathing deeply.

"Do you think you'll die?" She asks, timidly. Garrosh regards he over the bamboo "I think so" there was a long moment before she turned toward him, her tail making a dent in the soft sand. "I don't want you too" it was a shocking revelation to even her. Garrosh seemed floored by it. "You-" "what does it mean" she interrupts "to be a mate?" Asch knew few things about the working of his culture, even less of his clan. Warsong. It was a proud clan, traditional as the old world.

"It's means to love and care. To be there" Garrosh answers, a heavy pinch in his brow. "You might die and I don't want you too. I can't stop them. But-" she bit her lip "I want to be mates, for however long you have. Please?" Garrosh couldn't say no to her. Dared not too.

"Alright" there was light in her eyes that made him weak, "how do we become mates?" Many clans had different ways of doing it, Warsongs ritual was complex as his clan was. "We go out and kill something together. You make useful things from it, as do I" Garrosh would make their mating fur, Asch would make food from its organs and the claws or nails would become symbols of their loyalty. "We paint each other with our clan colours then we mate until the wolves howl and the paint mixes" Asch frowns lightly "there are no wolves..." he grins "I suppose we will be mating for a long time then" Asch giggles at him, watching his eyes brighten.

It took a long time to find the right colour for Asch, Garrosh would use the blood of the animal they would kill. Asch didn't like the idea, but it was tradition so she lemented. "The paint will stay on for a while" he warns, poking at one of the blue berries she hand in the make shift wooden bowl. Asch huffs at him "it'll wash away" he let her think she was right and didn't say anything.

Once they found something worth killing Garrosh got low and Asch crept toward it in the same fashion. It didn't take long to slay the beast and Garrosh could lift it easily over his shoulder. Asch giggles at the sight, Garrosh puffs himself out, looking like a gratified peacock.

Asch went about using the tigers meat and organs, she remembered how to use every part of the animal from her training with the broken. Garrosh skined it, fluffing the pelt so it was comfortable to lay on. Finally he took the massive claws and carved two necklaces. It took many hours to fix and finish, by the time they mushed and bowled the paints it was clouding outside, a sunset faded along the skyline.

"What do I paint?" Asch asks over her messy bowl, Garrosh shrugs, having no idea himself. "It comes to you" his clan mates had said so, it was a beautiful sight the next morning when the mated pair came to show off the mixed colours.

"I'll paint..." the blood in his fingers felt heavy "my favourite parts of you" Asch gasps, smiling.

When they begin to paint it's messy, Garrosh chastely removed her linens, they were both bare. Asch made patterns on his face first, covering the tips of his ears to his nose, waving little patterns down his neck and pasting over his jaw. Garrosh coloured her horns, cheeks and dotted her ears, swiping down her neck and slathering the little tentacles. Asch was ticklish and couldn't contain herself when he did this, making a little mess of his work, but he didn't seem to mind. Asch herself moved over his shoulders and arms, making a skeletal path to his fingers, outlining each one finger. Garrosh pasted her hips and belly, thumbing each breast tenderly enough.

They kept moving down each other, making marks and hand prints, Asch laughed when his big hands made two huge prints over her inner thighs, squeezing the flesh. Asch wasn't nearly as sexual until she got to his groin, weaving her hands around his sex, matting the course black hair with the blue paint. Garrosh growls lightly, feeling her little hands work around his sides. He palmed her butt in his hands, making equally big prints there. Asch softly traced up his back, feeling and appreciating the hard muscles. Once they were both satisfied they looked at their work. It was artful, still drying. Asch was covered from head to toe in patterns and lines. Garrosh was too, but Asch took it far more seriously then he did. Asch outlined everything she adored, Garrosh could feel the paint.

Garrosh grins at her "now we mix the paint"

This time he went very slowly, knowing she might want to escape. Garrosh would let her, without getting offended, the Sha raped her, he would understand if it got to much. So far his advances were welcomed. Garrosh kisses her, trailing down her neck, listening to the little moans and felt each jolt. "Spread your legs" Asch's face was red as the blood on her skin, but she did as he asked. Garrosh remembered how pretty the sight was. Her cunt was colured a shade darker then her skin, wet and he wanted to do nothing more then bury his face between her legs. Of course, he went slow, showing his intentions. Asch seemed too shy to watch as he got closer to her. His cheeks rubbed into the painted handprints, surly mixing with the paint on his cheeks. Garrosh licked once, surprising her.

"Mhm!" He chuckles, allowing more pressure. Garrosh had a very big tongue. It was flat, wide and thick. It covered the length of her slit and forced between her lips. Asch quivers, thrashing as it poked her hole. Garrosh paid attention to her reactions, applying pressure to the little bud before leaving it, he was teasing he knew, but he wanted to savour each second of this.

Asch's hooves press into his shoulders, the little twinge of pain made him groan against her. Asch whines at the impossible heat, wiggling into his tongue. "Garrosh..." Asch was breathless, peaking at him she saw he was staring, watching her with his yellow eyes. Asch ran a hand over his skull, petting the flesh and scratching the skin with her nails. Garrosh buried himself deeper, the little push egging him on. Asch would be embarrassed by the noises she was making if not for the fact they were in the middle of no where. She sounded like a bitch in heat, wailing as he worked his fat tongue inside, nose rubbing the bud purposely.

It didn't take long to make her come, Asch screams into the cave, shouting his name and babbling out moans and whines, Garrosh didn't let up, he wanted to wring out all of her noises and commit them to memory. Asch tried to push away, her eyes filled with tears as she came again in quick succession, only then did he let up. Garrosh lapped up her jucies with his tongue, the taste was tangy and fresh, he wanted more.

Garrosh scaled up her body, mushing the paint between them. The colours mixed in places the friction was harsher, making a nice warm purple. It looked rather beautiful. Garrosh pulled her legs up, resting them on the curve of his hips, his fingers snuck between, ghosting over the wet lips. Asch squirmed, she was trapped between his body and his hips trapped and tilted her legs up, exposing her. Garrosh locked eyes with her and watched how her mouth opened as he eased one of his fingers inside her warm heat.

It was as warm and soft as he remembered, tight as if it was her first time. This time however there would be no blood, Garrosh would not allow himself to hurt her. When he was Warchief he was famous for his stamina, the sex, women would come to his bed and talk about it for days after. Garrosh could be famous for the love he now had for this woman, if in the end he was put to death, his legacy would not be the madness destruction, it would be this Draenei. For she knew him better then anyone one, here and now, this was his history.

Asch arched into his body, the paint on his chest rubbed onto hers, Garrosh hums, watching her face contort. A very small part of him hoped that his legacy would grow within her after this night, they only had so few left, maybe this would be the only time they would lay together, Garrosh did not know- but if she were to carry his seed, maybe his tainted name could hold meaning, beauty. The child he might sire would abolished all of their fathers sins, just has he did with his own father. Maybe even be proud to wear the name Hellscream.

God knows the name was tied to men that wounded it, maybe with a mother like Asch it could mean something. It was a pipe dream however. Garrosh could only hope, never know whether or not she'd be given the gift.

Asch made a weak noise, trying to thrust herself into his moving finger, Garrosh wouldn't have it, he held her hip with his other hand and drove the finger in deeper, a steady, aggravating pace. She made his fingers wet, drip even. Garrosh was pleased as he pulled the finger away, licking it while watching her.

"Tell me" he starts, wiggling her into a better position "if it's to much, tell me" he was firm, face set in a harsh line, Asch worries her lip, nodding at him. His cock was heavy in hand, he ran the tip down her slit, wetting it with her jucies. Asch twitches, eyes darted away. Garrosh was warmed by just how shy she was. Carefully, he thrust the tip, poking inside. Asch huffs, spreading wider for him.

Slow as he could manage he inched inside, the wet heat making him dizzy. Asch was breathing short, but no protests. Her walls clinched and accommodated for his girth, accepting the intrusion easily, as if they had put ever stopped. Asch was perfect for his cock. Garrosh admired how she looked on it. Face flushed, legs spread. The colour difference alone made him growl. It looked right to him.

Asch wiggles, moving his cock inside her, digging her hooves into his ass impatiently. This made Garrosh chuckle and rock deeper inside, getting just the shocked reaction he wanted "careful Asch" he cooes "I want to take my time" Garrosh watches her eyes widen and lose the lustful shadows "you... you said my name" he laughs "rather I call you blue ski-" Asch surges up, kissing him messily. His expression grows soft as she inches away, holding him close "say it again" this time he moves his hips, without a teasing drag "Asch."


She kisses him, with passion he forgot she had. It was possessive, needy even. Asch held him impossibly close, gripping the fat of his neck in her soft hands mostly, it was full of love. When she let him go, Asch took a gasping breath, eyes rolling at his steady thrusts. Mindlessly kissing what she could reach while moaning at his attentions, loud enough for it to reach far outside and disturb sleep animals.

Garrosh had sex win many women, many for his race and plenty others, Draenei women were built much like Orc women were, not a fatty, but strong. He didn't have to hold much back, he did out of fear she would panic, but Asch was putty, thrashing underneath him, pawing at his shoulder and neck, kissing him when she was tilted back in the tiger fur moaning her voice hoarse. Garrosh attacked her neck, nipping and biting, leaving little nicks with his tusks, no deeper then little cat scratchers, he made sure.

Asch was beautiful like this, sweaty and wild. Clawing like a angry cat. She managed to rip up his hide, leaving small marks and cuts in her wake down his shoulders, back and arms. Garrosh hammered into her, gripping her upper legs, his hand would leave bruises but that only appealed to him. Garrosh loved to see the aftermath, the bites and marks, bruises and paint. Asch was covered in his colour, it covered her chest and blotted her face. It looked like warpaint, he loved it. Though, she wouldn't be able to take it off for a very long time. Asch would surely be mad after tonight. Garrosh didn't even want to think of what she would do to him if it was still on her skin by the time the trail started. He knew it would be, he wasn't even sorry.

The alliance or her father might not understand what the mess on her skin was, but the leader and people of the Horde would, Thrall most definitely. It only spurred Garrosh into making it more noticeable, so she couldn't cover it up. Her face was a mess of it, horns were completely covered and if the bite marks and hickies didn't inform the alliance, the smell on her would. Orcs easily stunk their mates with their scent. Asch didn't have a strong smell, but Asch would stink Ike him for weeks, maybe even months. Garrosh was told he had a potent scent.

Asch came with a scream, juices gushed on his cock, her back arched off, taking him deeper. Garrosh grunts, holding himself from joining her. Asch's cunt tightened harshly, he could feel every pulse as she fell exhausted into the ruined pelt beneath. Asch jolted, wailing as every thrust, over sensitive as he kept on, "ha-ah ah.. Garrosh" she babbles, pawing at him. Garrosh let her drag him, the sweat smelt sweet on her as she buried his head into her neck, holding him as he still worked into her.

He didn't slow, even as Asch became droopy, her hands stroked over his face, her tender eyes looking at him. "Love you" she struggled to say, Garrosh hesitated his hips, thrown off by the confession "I love you" Asch smiles before tilting back, moaning low. Garrosh drew a long breath and decided to quicken his pace, ready to finish.

It didn't take long, her abused walls fluttered and milked his cock until he snarled and came, gushing thick strings, Asch came once more, it was a slow, gasping one. They laid there, huffing in each other faces before Garrosh fell to his side, carrying her over to rest on his chest.

Asch let him, nuzzling into his skin and cooing sweetly. Garrosh smiles, stroking her hair "hm, I like you like this" Asch was drowsy, fucked out and needy. She clung to him and let him do as he pleased "mhm" she mutters, too tired to try and respond.

Chapter Text

Anduin watches in at his father, trying to decide whether or not to pity him. The object of interest was a visiting Paladin, a Highlord of the light. His father could not stop staring.

It had been a very long time since his mother, Tiffin. Longer since his father had been interested in another. The paladin stood a few inches short of his father, her hair was pale white, skin a rosy colour and her eyes were an oddity. They shorn yellow as the light. Anduin watches his father with great amusement. The High King was tense as a bow string. "High King" the paladin says with grace and a fine voice. His father curtly nods, ponytail shaking wildly "I am Asch Andrews, Highlord of the order." She was full of confidence, appreciation. Varian smiles, Anduin holds a childish giggle "I wanted to thank you for your men. I've safely returned each one of them" at first his father heard of the new Highlord's victories on the isle and in faith offered his men.

"The thanks are mine" the king says warmly, in the edge of his seat, completely engrossed in the woman before his throne. Highlord Andrews brought down a legion camp with her own small army and the twenty soldiers Varian granted. It was quite a victory, one that got both Wrynn's attention.
"Stay for the counsel, I wish to hear your ideas for the assults tomorrow" Anduin grins, watching her face "thank you High King!" Andrews took the dismissal, following the guards with her long cape trailing behind her. Varian sighs with an air of interest. Not once until she left did he take his eyes off her.

Anduin was one of few people that was privy to spend all his time with the King, the only one that could ask his father away. Now, he used this time smartly. They were in his fathers rooms, big, impersonal and empty as if he was just visiting. Anduin knew that his father ignored his happiness in favour of his sons, but it was time his father found his own again. Varian wouldn't dare remarry because of his son. Anduin did not know if that would become of them, but he wasn't about to allow this woman to fade away.

"Highlord Andrews is promising, wouldn't you say father?" The interest in his father eyes was obvious as he turned, still fixing his shoulderplate "she is, I'm intrigued to see what she has to offer" Anduin knew his father would skirt around the point, so instead he pushed it.

"Father, you find her beautiful, I know this. Ask her to accompany you to the gala" his fathers eyes popped, widening considerably large "what-" Anduin gave him a look "father" Varian narrows his eyes at his son, staring at the easy smile and always hopeful eyes. "You've been forgetful, caring for me and neglecting yourself. Mother would not hate you" Anduin knew his mother was put to rest long ago, his feather had moved on. Anduin knew it was because of him.

Varian's eyes went soft, carefully he went to his son, touching his shoulder with a firm hand "I am fine" Anduin shakes his head "you deserve love father. You couldn't take your eyes off her" his father went pink, grunting out an awkward cough "even so-"

"Just... for me father, ask her for me?" Varian looked hesitant to agree, but finally he agreed, nodding slowly "good!"


Xxx

Varian hadn't had to woo a woman in ages. Tiffin found his awkward nature charming. Asch Andrews he knew nothing about. The woman was tactically clever, spoke smart and wouldn't accepted failure. That much could be said about anyone.

Asch was standing there, talking to no one Varian knew. Wearing her white armour, palm on the hilt of her sword. Varian hurried forward, gaining her attention just as he came to their little group "High King" she said pleasantly, face coloured a sweet rose "Highlord" Asch beams, perking visibly "this is my personal guard, Orondis. He was a shorter man then either of them, still he vowed with respect. Saying no words as he backed away, obviously noticing the Kings urgency.

"I wish to speak to you, Lady Andrews" formal was easy, official. Varian thought it was to soon to be personal. Asch give him her full attention "of course my King" Varian puffs his chest, eying an outline around the beautiful paladin. "We are having a gala in honour of our soliders" Asch makes an excited noise, "I have heard! They couldn't ask for better honours" Varian agrees, then awkward settles in, Varian but his lip, looking at anything but her. The ashbringer settled to her hip glinted "how's the sword treating you?" Anduin would call him a coward.

"It's wonderful. Perfect in my hands"

Another bought of silence.


Varian felt like a coward. In battle he could slay throngs of men. Yet he couldn't speak to a woman.

"I- um... my lady" there was a timid shake in his voice, but Asch doesn't appear to notice. "The gala... I am without company. Would you honour me?" Asch flinches visibly, colouring ruby "me?" She says as though it was ubspeakable. Varian nods.

"I- of course!" She squeaks, Varian smirks at her, gaining some confidence at her fluster.

Xxx

Asch did not have anything suitable for attending a gala with a king. She barely had any dresses to begin with. She was always far to busy with duties to be able to attend nothing lavish. Stormwind housed the finest makers and fabrics. Asch employed a clever seamstress and with time and much if her advance spent, she came up with something half decent.

Varian wore dark armour, one that couldn't easily be matched, but decidedly she picked a bluish grey to match his bredtplate the trim was white and it exposed her shoulder and arms. The dress itself was lovely, one Asch thinks Varian would be pleased to be seen with. Inlynshe was afraid to trip. It had been a long time since she had to wear something so loose.
Asch adored how pretty she looked.

The night of the gala she spend time fixing her hair up and fixing what little makeup she had. As a guest of the Wrynn family Asch had a room close to the gala, but her men were still outside the door, ready to take her.

Asch waited, sitting in the plush bed, playing with the puffy skirt "Highlord!" His guard said behind the wood "enter" Orondis opened the door and entered backward "presenting High King Wrynn" as expected he wore his painted armour, fixed and coloured to look presentable for the gala.

Varian was a man of stone and harsh features, Asch had only ever seen him as such. Now the stone went soft and his face was in awe. Asch recognized his handsomeness since she first met him all those years ago. He never met her, but Asch remembered him. "You look beautiful" he says, bowing his head, Asch gulps shuttering quietly "thank- thank you... you look very handsome my King" Varian smiles lightly, shaking his head "Varian, Asch. Tonight we are merely people" Asch shivers at the use of her name "and then on. Please my lady" Varian extends his arm still bowing slightly Asch grabs into it, the armour chills her skin but his heat was enough to make up for it.


Varian was the centre of the gala, everyone came to him speaking of many things Asch didn't understand most of it but didn't bother to try. Varian held her hip, holding her into his side as the people came and went. "I've neglected you for far to long" Varian suddenly chuckles, looking right at her. Asch blinks up at him "will you dance with me?"

Varian lead her away from the people, but the eyes were still following, as if they were hovering merely inches away. Varian only looked on a her as the light music played and he directed them into a sweet dance. "Don't mind them" Varian whispers, a knowing look, Asch nods, letting him pull her closer, trying to distract her with the dance.

Varian twirls her, then cradles her close. It was intimate, far to gentle for the wolf king. "I hope all this attention isn't bothering you?" Asch had never been one to anchor toward spotlight, all her life she plead to the light and gave the best of her to others, never expecting much attention for it. Varian on the other hand was watched since he was born, raised under the eyes of millions.

"It is rather new" Varian keeps her close, as if he attempted to shield her away from the watchers, it brought only more attention and heated looks. Many women found Varian Wrynn desirable. "They marvel at your beauty" Asch hides her face as he grins "Varian you're too kind-" he tuts her "not kind enough." Asch didn't know what to say.

 

As the night went on Varian danced with her, only halting if her feet hurt or he felt Asch needed something to eat. Once only were they interrupted by anyone, Anduin came to greet her, Varian shined at his son, Asch found it endearing.

Chapter Text

Alliance soldiers found them, Asch was pushed back, like she needed to be safe away from him. Asch didn't show her hurt as Garrosh was forced into submission, shoved onto the ground and shackled.

Their journey was almost over, Garrosh was held down and caged, Asch was given light clothes "Vindicator I have a warm bowl of water, for the mess" one guard gestures to the paint, Asch shakes her head "no, it's alright. It will go away on its own" the man looked at her strangely, but accepted her dismissal.

The ride up was quick and when Asch was escorted through the gates her father Velen came to her first, embracing his child with a sigh of relief "my child" he whispers, cupping her face "what is all this?" Soft pads of his fingers brush over the caked paint "it will go away" Asch did not answer his question, but he let it go, happy enough that she was safe. "I was worried for you little light" Asch feels warm, smiling "were you hurt?" Asch shook her head "Garrosh saved my life papa" Asch dared to tell him, knowing that he may think better of the Orc, if only a little.

"He kept me from drowning, we travelled until we were found, he didn't hurt me" Velen was always hard to read, even to her, but a small tilt in his lips told her that he was glad, though he did not say it. Her father would, if he was called to speak, he would tell everyone what Garrosh had done for his daughter.

The others would tell what he had done to his daughter.


"Come little light, let us travel to our rooms" the trek was short, they went down a long hallway and they passed many of the leaders, Varian even came with his son. The two humans greeted her, Anduin was warm and sweet, imbraced her despite the filth caked all over her body. Varian was glad she was home, frowning lightly at the mess of colour.

Velen and Asch shared a room, a thick sliding door separating them. The bed was plush and new armour was there for her to take, no doubt her father had it made. Asch almost tears at the designs, it reminded her of stars. Asch felt wheezy as she took a bath, all through it she was worried she would throw up. Asch blamed it on being worried for Garrosh. She couldn't see him without reason until it came out. Asch wanted to prolong it as much as possible. While her father was understanding, it would be very hard even for him to let it go.

Asch held back bile as she dressed in simple dress linens, looking much like a priest.

"Little light" her father says, pulling the wall back slowly "we must be present- would you like help removing those" he gestures to the paints, Asch smiles lovingly at him, shaking her head "it's alright papa. We can go now" Velen didn't press her.

They walked with the other leaders, joining the Horde as they filled out. There was silence for only a minute before Sylvanas Windrunner started laughing under her breath, watching Asch with her eyes of pure blood. Thrall had noticed the Undeads sudden joy and looks on, frowning with surprise as he found her object of humour. Thrall knew exactly what the paint meant, Asch knew many Orcs understood the paints meaning.

Thrall's mood blackened as did his expression. Thunders, the night elf that stood as his mate held their baby close as he whispered toward her. Asch gulps looking at all the faces of the Horde, they all whispered among them, looking at her. Velen notices their interest.

"Is there a problem?" He asks kindly, extending himself toward the others, staff banging into the ground. Baine shifted uncomfortably, Asch knew what was coming. "Yes" Sylvanas sneered, a laughing smile "shes bedded the traitor" the Alliance took a few moments to understand, Velen leans away, showing no emotion as Varian, Tyrande and the Dwarfs all became degrees of shocked, betrayed and harsh.

Still, Velen stood with his daughter.

The fowl mood set in as everyone stares at her. "They are mated" Thrall says with a tight jaw. Asch decides to finally step up. "Yes. We are." It was firm, direct and Asch finally embodied her power. She let the colour on her face catch the light. Everyone gawked, eyes as wide as the moon, "enough" Velen'sstaff clacked into the ground "this is of no importance. Leave my daughter be, she had no sway in this trial" the rage of the Horde quitted as Taran Zhu didn't say anything to disputed the High Priest words. Many silenced, all glaring hatefully.

Garrosh came forth moments after, Thrall looked on in disgust as he glanced between he and Asch, looking at the mushed paint. Taran allowed Garrosh a moment to speak.

"Whatever is decided" he begins while looking at Asch "I want my mate, Asch daughter of Velen to be given everything I have. And a chance to become Warchief of my clan, Warsong." Asch gawked, staring at him with bloated eyes. Garrosh had a small smile "Gorehowl belongs to someone worthy" she gulps, feeling breath shutter out of her as the others looked at her equally surprised and angry "this is your right" Taran told him "we will grant her titles and holdings" there was an outrage, but Taran snapped loudly, baring his white teeth.

"We will decide today, with testament and tomorrow we will give verdict. For your final night, what do you wish?" Garrosh leans toward the panda, shackles clinking "privacy with my mate" Taran sweeps his glance over the audience, assuring none else heard, then nods "this I will do."

"Now" the great Chi-Ji says in a booming voice "we begin!"

Asch spent the hours wrinifbher fingers raw, listening to all they had against Garrosh, more and more did it look hopeless. One after the other they told that tales, reciting everything perfect as they remembered. Garrosh gave her little smiles with his eyes, staying stoney to the rest all the while. Asch appreciated his care, but was far more worried for it to work. Velen stood right next to her, his arm pressed into her as a weight and presence. This helped, knowing her father didn't forsake her as the rest of her alliance did.

Taran's great voice silenced the room once more "we now adjourn, tomorrow Garrosh Hellscream will be sentenced. Vindicator" Asch perks, colouring as he came to look at her "please come with me" Velen placed a hand in her back, prompting her to go with a little pressure, she looks back a her smiling father behind hurrying along and making noises clomps along the floor.

"Garrosh has requested you to spend this night together" it dawned on Asch this might be his last wish, the last time they might see each other. This upsets her greatly, Taran leads her down the steps, winding around until they come to the cells, the far back Asch can see Garrosh on a large bed, magic swirling around in a deep black. He had no chains and he was calm as they came "little blue skin" Garrosh greets when he finally sees her "as promised. Once she is inside there will be magic sealing you away from praying eyes. We will collect you an hour before the trial tomorrow" Asch doesn't wait for Taran to allow her to go, she darts passed the magic and forces the Orc into a desperate hug, tears finally falling "I will leave now" his voice grew distant and the magic cased around them, the only light the few candles left. It was enough however for them to seeeachtoeh clearly "hush blue skin" he coos, engulfing her with his arms "tonight there will be no tears, do not cry."

Garrosh attempts to thumb away her tears, smiling st her with pride and love "you are beautiful Asch" Asch quivers, "no hush" he tuts, wiping away her cheeks "we've no time to weep" Asch nods, willing herself to stop. Garrosh looks proud of her "I want to ask something great of you, blue skin" Garrosh pulls her onto his lap, holding her hips firmly "what is it?" Asch would do anything for him.


"I want you to give me a child" he tells her "I want them to have my name, to make it mean something. I do not want it to die with me" Asch chokes out more tears, falling freely down her face "you won't die" she insists, rejecting the idea "I know" he says sadly, eyes dulling "will you?" Asch cups his cheeks, rubbing her fingers along his skin "yes, please give me a baby" Asch does not know what will happen tomorrow, does not wish to think about what might happen. If Garrosh is put to death Asch would be left alone in this world.

Garrosh holds her, squeezing her flesh "let me make you feel better"


Xxx

Asch knew it had surely been hours, Garrosh wasn't tired in the least. Asch indulged him in many things he wished for. His requests came in spurs, asking things of her that made her blush and ashamed. Some made her snippy and annoyed, some did not help their chance of conceiving but she allowed lol the same.

Asch's thighs were dripping and caked with his leavings, her back was painted as was the insides of her mouth. It was tacky and tasted of salt and slightly fowl but Garrosh only gre more intense, biting and brushing her flesh with his teeth and fingers. Garrosh thumbed the sensitive flesh between her cheeks as he fucked into her, his finger was coated in his semen, it loosened the darken blue puckered hole and Asch snaps away, a straggled noise "Garrosh!" He pokes inside the virgin hole, despite her snarling "relax pretty blue skin" his finger invades the space, eagerly thrusting inside with gentle prods "it will hurt if you don't" Asch wiggles away, his cock persists, ducking inside her curb as his finger toys with in her ass, "you won't be getting a baby if you put it there!" She growls, feeling tingly despite her annoyance. Garrosh laughs lightly "it's the only place my cock hasn't been. Let me fill your pretty arse blue skin" Asch has only ever been with him, hasn't ventured to touch herself, she has heard of husbands doing such things, putting themselves where no possible conception would be mad. Asch could feel the gushing as he thrusts, Garrosh had spent himself inside her more then eight times already.

Women she knew said men liked this, so Asch relented with a huff, allowing his fingers to invade as she bend over, feeling more of his cock as he worked open her other hole with his cum and saliva. No doubts he's done this with women before. Asch felt a little jealous at how practiced his fingers were at opening her, but didn't allow herself to feel it openly as he stretched the puckered hole. Garrosh removed himself with one qhick thrust and held his throbbing cock "it'll hurt" he tells her, holding the tip to her hold? Asch wiggles, adjusting the feeling of it pressing in the foreign place.


Asch let him fuck her ass and he came inside, leaving no hole empty. For good measure had his way again, but now they rested in each other's arms, feeling each other because they knew it would be the last time. Garrosh made love to her this night to remembered everything about her. The way she felt, how she looked. Now he was nose deep in her skin, breathing in her sweaty and wet skin.

Garrosh pets her belly, feeling the soft skin "tell them of me" his voice was soft "if I do not live" Asch feels sad again, but nods "Mhm, good. Let us sleep now, I love you Asch" Asch buried herself in his skin and willed herself not to cry "I love you Garrosh"

The morning came wth Taran eying them with no judgement "come I will take you to the High Priest" Asch kissss Garrosh "go little blue skin" he pushes her out smiling sadly as she made it difficult.


Asch kept looking back until she couldn't see him anymore.

Xxx

Everyone gathered and Velen stayed very close to his daughter, supporting her as her own people and the Horde stares at her with hate and maliciousness.

Taran Zhu waited for it to be completely silent before presenting the celestials "we have come to a decision." Chi-Ji says, speaking for them all. "We have seen and heard many things. What is curious is what we have not. The punishment we see fit shall be banishment, Garrosh will return to his home, where he will live out his days beside his mate and clan, all personal possession belong to Asch, daughter of Velen" Taran presented Asch with Gorehowl as the great crane spoke.

It was heavy in her hands and felt like it did not belong with her. Garrosh looked proud of her regardless.

Anger resided inside the temple as Garrosh was freed of his bonds "inconceivable!" Syvanas screechs, fists clinched. Taran hisses with his booming voice "peace!" Garrosh stands next to Asch, hand curled around her waist "we have dealt justice here today. Enough is enough" the Horde rage as well as the Alliance, Velen stands tall beside his daughter, staff standing in front of her as they further raged.

"Giving him to his slave!" The dark lady continues "how daft" everyone looks at Asch, finally noticing under faded paint the tattoo "that is enough!" Shouted Xuen "I will have none of this. We have served this court. Now disperse!"

Chapter Text

Asch stares at the demon hunters as they go by, all watching her in turn. Illidan kept few mortal things, Asch had been one of them. They did not like her, but none of them went near her. Many wanted to harm her, many wanted to have her. Asch was beautiful, light skin, long ears. Silver white hair, matching eyes that shined like mother moon. One of the few people Illidan kept close to him.

Many knew their story, Asch was one of few to have seen him before he was their leader, a Illidari. When he was a brother and friend. They hated her for that too. Asch was an infatuation that lasted thousands of years. Everyone knew still the love he harboured for the high priestess, Asch was the replacement. Some pitied her, but Asch did not care.

Asch laid in his vast bed, silk robes covering herself as she watched the demons hunters amble around the war table, Illidan at the helm, looking at the little flags and pieces. Asch used to be a fighter, one of Elunes priests, it had been a long time since she had been recognized as one. Now her duty was to Illidan, she often healed the hunters as they came back, but she cared little for battles. Death upset her. She dealt with it during the war, Asch would have no more of it now.

"Darling" Asch says, rolling herself into her stomach. Illidan's eyes shoot up, "come to me, leave your toys" Illidan dismisses the demon hunters with a swift shake of his wrist. Asch watches them give her hateful looks but pays no mind. Illidan stalks over, resting heavily on their bed "my illidari are not happy with you" he tells her with amusement. Asch snorts lightly, rolling until she pressed into his pants, staring up at his blazing eyes "they think I'm easily swayed by you" Asch giggles prettily at this, clutching his leg.

"Are you?"

Illidan leans over, pecking her forehead "more then I'd like to be, little woman" Asch pulls him down, making him kiss her fully, Illidan makes a soft noise as they part "good that I want nothing more then your attention then, isn't it?" He chuckles, leaning over her until she tuned into her back "you can have much more then that."


Xxx

Illidan prided himself how easily it was to make the woman beneath him a mess. Her ass pressed into his hips, pushing back at his every thrust. Asch was the first woman he allowed to touch him before and after his transformation. Though his love endured for Tyrande, Illidan grew to adore Asch just as much. "Darling" he whispers, nipping her ear. Asch shivers eying him from behind, her shiny moonlike eyes dulled with pleasure "I love you" it wasn't the first time he'd said this, it wouldn't be the last. Asch melted into the sheets.


"Love you too"

Xxx

Illidan watches his pariah amble about the community of demon hunters. Asch wears little to nothing and always looks beautiful, her hair was dressed in feathers and beads. The hunters both men and women look at her with want, but they know they cannot touch. Illidan sits slumped in his seat, watching her come toward him in slow, pretty steps. There was no ceremony as she climbed the stairs to his lap, sitting purposefully atop his thighs, now paying him only mind.

"Darling" he whispers, watching over the hunters "my love" she responds toying with his hair, fixing it into a loose braid before undoing it "I am bored" she says with a pout "how are you?" Illidan snorts nuzzling her head with a quick swipe of his cheek. Demons were extremely affection toward their mates and quite possessive, over the decades it formed into Illidan and Asch reaped the benefits of his adoration.

Chapter Text

Asch gripped the hilt of the massive Gorehowl, staring at all the imperfections and feeling as though she shouldn't be carrying the legacy. Garrosh looks at her with pride, knowing finally, the weapon was in good hands.

Asch was painted in their colours, horns mucked over in blood and their symbol was painted over her pretty face with bone paste. The Narru light was floating between her eyes, glowing bright. Asch wore no armour, only little clothes sercured around her chest and groin. A warrior.

Though Asch was a paladin the look suited her well, the metal rings of her race shined through the dirt, her hooves were caked in the wet mud surrounding the ring of trials. Many of her combatants looked the same. Garrosh stares at them all, big, far bigger then his mate. They held mighty battle axes, maces bigger then her body and swords that were thicker then his own arm. Garrosh was nervous for her.


Asch didn't show her fright, like usual she was standing tall, stony, Garrosh held a proud smirk through his emotions. She was beautiful, regal. Five candidates would fight for the right to be Warchief. Garrosh knew the four others, good men, but they would do anything to stop his mate from becoming their leader. A Draenei covered in his clans war paint, a Draenei wielding his fathers weapon.

Asch turns, nodding his way. Garrosh smiles wide around his tusks. The gong sounds loudly, the Orcs and Asch ponce. Though she was the smallest, Asch weaved between them, expertly swinging Gorehowl into the meat of the others. Asch slashed, harshly ripping into one of them.

The fight was dirty be Asch did no escape without bloody cuts and nicks. Two fell and bowed away, glaring angrily at the little Draenei. The last was new blood, one that Garrosh had not seen before. There were few faces that he did remember, much of his former clan was gone as well as its people.

Asch wipes her shoulder, glaring as she felt the smush of blood and the sting of sweat. The Orc stares stares at her with a snarl, hating her. "Come Eredar! We will finish this!" Asch squints at this, it had bee a long time since she was referred too as that. Asc took a breath, set she eyes and charged.

Xxx

Garrosh stood behind his mate, watching her be wrapped in the colours. Asch raises Gorehowl, the Orcs inspired did the same. Letting out belts of cheers, yells and warcrys.

The den of the warchief was bigger then Garrosh remembered, Asch walks around the space, the bed was large enough for the both of them. Garrosh watches Asch become overwhelmed by it all, the large tabard knotted at the back to keep to her form. It was rather comical to see her wearing the same tabard his father and he wore. It showed too, there was a scar in the fabric Garrosh knew of. A big slash mark in the back, created by a nameless grunt of the Alliance.

"Mhm Asch" Garrosh coos, watching her tail sway, "come" Garrosh saw then new furs on the bed, the tiger, wolf and bear looks soft and full, Garrosh wanted nothing more then to bury her into and mate. Asch looked as though she knew this and coloured deeply "there are guards..." the warchief had her own elite guards, big shadows in the leather of the tent, Garrosh smiles dirtily at this. "Indulge me blue skin, they all know I bed you" the vulgarity of it had Asch sputtering, hair shaking about as she recoiled "yes- well... they- they don't need to hear it!" The Hellscreams were famous for battle cries, Asch would become famous herself, being the first female to lead them, the first Draenei.

Garrosh hoped it would be for her own cries.

He wouldn't dare tell her that though.

"Send them away" he teases, Asch had always been easy to stir. Garrosh knew she wouldn't be able to be quiet, the guards and her men would talk about their warchief, they would praise him just as they had long before. Garrosh slinks toward her with slow, even steps. Asch watching him all the while, unsure and embarrassed. Still, she let him touch her face, travel down her arm and caress her exposed belly. There was a small bump of hardens flesh, they both knew the day it happened. It was the day he was freed. Fingers close around his wrist in a comforting weight and pressure. "They would not like a pregnant warchief" she mutters, stroking her fingers into the meat of his hand. The sound of her saying it aloud made Garrosh grow prideful. His future was nestled, forming inside her belly, the Hellscream name would live on with this baby.

"I've told papa" she says with a smile, "he is very excited, but told us to be careful" as conditioned by the celestials both Garrosh and Asch had to report to their respected leaders. Vol'jin must see them once a month and Velen as well, both making sure Garrosh was abiding his banishment. It was a simple two days of portals and nonsense. Vol'jin would be official and Velen would dote upon his daughter, rarely doing as the officials asked. A baby thrown into the mix was going to cause problems, ones that Garrosh was afraid of. Someone would anger at this, the celestials would hold a counsel and decide what was to become of his child. Most would dare consider he'd taint the child, they would say he must grow apart from his father. That Asch must raise him without his fathers influence. It has happened before, Garrosh has seen such. This is why he knows.

Some would use it to hurt him, some may let it pass. But none would stand by and just let him bring a child to the world. Once Asch was showing they would have to inform the celestials. Garrosh would ignore this for now.


Asch sighs, pushing her weight into his hands, steadily falling into his warmth. "Warchief!" There was a soft voice in the other side of the heavy hide "enter!" A little meek Draenei came between the fold, Fahya the Shamen Asch appointed to their clan. Fahya was very thin, heathy but small. "You've guests. I was told to tell you" Fahya was still learning the duties she had. Asch encouraged her regardless. "Oh" she says, disappointed "I'll meet them" Garrosh followed, pressed behind her as she pulled Gorehowl from its place.

Who they found at the gates of their temporary home was shocking. Thrall, his mate and their babies stood. Asch paused in surprise, but recovered. Smiling as if they were another guest. "Asch" Thunders greets with kind eyes, baby babbling in her arms. "Welcome to the home of the Warsong clan. Let me take you inside" Garrosh taught Asch the proper way to recieve guests, functions of a clan and the ways of Orcish culture. She was learning quite well.

"What brings you to our home?" Asch questions politely, leading them under the tent. Thunders hums at the question "we wanted to see how you were fitting in" nightelves were genuine, Thrall however looked pensive, angry underneath his mask of indifference. "You've rebuilt this" he says cautiously, peering around the tent "yes, she has" Garrosh was wavy, but not unfriendly.


The Orcs looked at each other, as if they were debating on whether to fight or passively ignore each other. "I like the changes" Thunders happily exclaimed, bouncing her baby on her hip "Draenei in the camp, it is nice." Many Orcs liked Draenei, Fahya gossiped with Asch about the guards trying to woo her with furs and meat. Asc thought it was sweet, even if those same men would like about it. Some of them though, they thought laying with another women who isn't Orc was betraying their people, watering their race. Asch would let pay those men mind.

"Why have you come?" Garrosh directly looks at Thrall, both knowing it wasn't what his wife had said. "I wanted to see if it was true. That you've truly changed" Garrosh puffs up, smirking lightly "mhm well, see then. I have tried" Thrall does see, he looks on at Asch, the smile present in her face. Even though the tattoo was clear. It had been almost a three months since his sentence.

"How is life now?" Thunders asks, taking a seat in the plush furs with Asch and baby Andis sitting between them "its... hectic. I have never been a leader like this. Warchief is a great mantle to hold." Thunders giggles, waving her off "oh, you look as though you've been one for ages!" Asch had turned the Warsong around in less then two months. Giving them a shamen, temporary home and promises of retaking their land. Asch was going to make good on them as well. Garrosh and her new people deserved that much and more for their suffering at the hands of the legion.

"I can only hope to do them justice" Thrall finally sits with his wife, Garrosh eases down as well, surrounding his mate with his legs on either of her. Asch sits comfortably high and gathers on of his hands to rest between her own on her lap. "We came here to apologize" Thunders admits "our views of you have been tainted by anger, but seeing you now, all that has been built. We've come for forgiveness" Asch feels touched, even Thrall looks softer, she nods "we accept. All is forgiven. Thank you my friends."

"We've also come to ask for help. We have spoke to Velen and Vol'jin. The celestials know what we have discussed. The legion has come once again, with a full frontal assault on the broken shore. The world leaders are gathering in dalaran. You've been invited by Khadgar, both of you." Thunders pulls a large parchment from the bag her husband had. "This is a little outdated, but about a week ago these were the numbers. They have since grown."

The map was covered in green blotted circles and legion symbols showing just where they have set up. Dalaran was scribbled onto the map and the in big letters, 'move' above its poorly drawn version. "Armies are gathering on the shore, both Alliance and Horde have brought down their flags to fight off the legion, Asch" Thunders voice became strong, purposeful "they have asked to to become Highlord in Tirion's place."

Asch tenses, Garrosh squeezes her fingers "they have?" The Nightelf nods, "Tirion fell. His sword was recovered, if you'll have it. There is a ship big enough to take the Warsong to Dalaran. In four days time the city will fill with citizens and delegates. We're all moving to the isles for the war effort. Men and armies will be moved by ship and arrive with our generals. Khadgar wished me to tell you all of this so you can make a desision. The charges will be dropped from you Garrosh. Khadgar wishes you as Battlemaster. Commanding our warriors."

Asc felt the wind blow out of his lungs.

"What say you?"

Asch looks at her mate, Garrosh tilts his head, brows drawn in question "yes" she says without looking back at them "we will help." Garrosh smiles at his mate.

 

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Varian laughs wildly as he forces through the lake. The city was quiet and there were no ground guards. Shalamayne was sitting right at the edge, glowing brightly on the soft mud.

"Varian!" Asch shouts, looking up at the open gardens where most of the guests were socializing. "Yes my lady?" He says standing in thigh deep water, hair wet and dripping. Asch holds her dress above the mud, her shoes ruined by the squishy mud. "C'mon" he beckons her, slapping the water toward her spot. Asch flinches away, whipping the front of her skirt "I'll get you another, come here" he begs slightly, smirking with a brow raised.

Asch gulps and toes off her shoes, muck slipping all over her toes, Varian chuckles, pushing back so he's waist deep. Asch scurries, frozen by the chilled water. Varian reaches for her and pulls her right to him "there we are" he whispers, wet forehead pressing into her own. Asch's teeth chatter, she meets his eyes through her lashes. The moon beats in her yellow iris' and Varian trembles slightly.

Asch notices how he looks at her, his eyes were wide and dark, Asch nudged him with her head, the wet hair pressed into his head and the pony tail was ruined. The water rushed around their legs with his movement. Asch felt his hands on her back and the world turn. Varian sways, spinning them slowly, Asch's feet slip, but Varian makes sure she doesn't fall. Soon they were rocking in a slow dance, the music above in the keep drifts down to them.


Asch plants her feet, stopping them. Varian's brow pinches. His hair was matted and there was dirt on his face. Asch wets her lips, surging up before she can think, kissing him. Varian responds right away, hands swooping to cup her waist, head tilting hers to kiss her back and gain control. Her fingers sought purchase on his furry wet collar, making his chest bump into hers. The wet metal is cold and makes Asch shiver. Only a moment later Varian parts with a huffing breath. "Here" he says, parting from her embrace. Varian swoops off his massive fur lined cloak and manipulates it into her back and shoulders. Most of the bottom was soaking wet but Asch felt much warmer.


"Let's get back"


The trip was messy and Varian almost slipped in the mud but as they came to the shore he grabbed her shoes and helped her up the hill "there isn't a side entrance..." he says sheepishly, Asch bites her lip, looking at the huge entrance and people leaving. Many ladies still looked beautiful, while Asch looked wet and dirty and covered from waist to feet in muck. Still, Varian stood next to her, tall and proud not hiding his smile as they came to the crowds sight. Many stared, looking at their wet, muddy king and others didn't even notice, as if they thought they were common people just wanting to see the pretty party goers.

The guards knew who the ere as they passed the guests, bowing as Varian hurried her to the throne where his son was gawking at them like a goose. "Father?" He says with the hint of a laugh, though mostly concern. "Men find us some towels if you will" guards ran into the heart of the keep, snorting at their king. "What's all this?" His son says, gesturing to the trail of mud Asch left behind with his fathers mantle "hm? Oh, we went to dance" ash bursts out laughing, weighting on his arm as she giggles "in mud?!" Anduin exclaims, "no" Varian draws out the word playfully.

"In the lake" Anduin has a wide blank expression before he laughs, a pink colour in his cheeks "sire!" One guard says, holding a stack of towels "ah thank you" Varian helps the mantle off Asch's shoulders and gives it to the guards "once we towel off I'll deliever you back to your room Asch" Varian pulls the towels out, ruining their perfect shape and drapes it along Asch's shoulders.

Anduin watches his father and Asch wipe off the excess water with happiness he hasn't
ever felt, all the while wondering would he have felt this when his father was with his mother still. Anduin had never seen them together, was too young to know. When he asked many said his father held great love for Tiffin. Anduin only knew what family loved looked like, not how his father loved a woman. This was new, beautiful.

"Come my lady, I'll see you soon Anduin" his father already knew he'd be in his room awaiting him. Anduin blushes, rubbing his hair as Asch waves goodbye with a beautiful smile.

"I hope that wasn't too strange for you" Varian whispers, leaning toward her as they walked down the hall. Asch shakes her head, peaking down at her ruined dress. Her whole salary went into its making, but Asch wasn't upset about that. "I haven't had fun like that in ages" Varian visibly perks up, smiling with his cheeks aflame "neither have I...."


There was a stretch of silence as they walked, wet noises following along with her dress "I... would like to see you again" Varian nervously mutters, looking at the bottom of her dress, Asch's little toes poked from the muddy line, he remembers their heated kiss, how her eyes relected the moon. Varian missed the feeling of it all.

"I would like that too, Varian" the way she said his name made him happy, giddy even. "How long are you staying in Stormwind?" Ash ponders this, thumbing the knob of her door "as long as my king wishes" Asch playfully says, adding "I have a Vindicator looking after the troops" Asch trusted Boros while she was away. "Ah, then I hope tomorrow isn't too soon to ask you to accompany me on a ride?" Asch shakes her head, excited "wonderful, I'll see you then."

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There wasn't much of a decision when it came to being promised to an aspect. Many had consorts, but few had mates. Neltharion believed in only having a mate, only one to have as his queen. 

Asch was from a privileged family, a nice little high elf. They gave her as tribute, Alexstrasza didn't like this much, but Neltharion wasn't under her rule and he did as pleased.

Neltharion had the choice to appear as whatever he wished, this time he fancied a grey skinned, red eyed high elf. His ears were tall and his teeth were were blunted. Though his fangs still stretched out. Netharion often liked the appearance as a ashen skinned human, with long ties up hair. Tonight however, he was bedding a pretty light skinned high elf, while Neltharion could only change his race and hair, he had no control over his blacken skin and eyes, small part of him cared not to frighten her.

For she was to be his queen and it would do him no good if she was scared of him.

The wide doors of his chambers clacked open, gaining his attentions. The guards carefully handled a meek little pink girl. Her ears were very tall, eyes were confused, but a beautiful sunny yellow colour. She wore lovely silks and no shoes. "My lord" the one handling her said, Neltharion beckoned closer, they were gentle with her. The girl, Asch had a very pleasing face, like most of her race it was angled and accented the cheeks. The perky little nose flared, all her senses were taking in the new surrounds.

"Excellent" he booms with a magnificent voice, scaring the elf into standing stark, eyes cast down. "Leave us, come here little elf" the great dragon pats the bed, the guards leave just as she sits.

"Tell me" he begins "what do you know?" It was a broad, unfair question. But Neltharion wished to know just how she would answer. "Many things my lord" her voice was very soft, lovely "I... I was taught how to please you- but I haven't-" Neltharion quiets her "no no little one, what do you know of dragons? Of life? what was taught to you?" Smoke billows out of his nose, grand eyes watching her with slitted black pupils


"My mother taught me how to make potions, she would take me and pick herbs" Neltharion tilts his head, resting against his curled fist "I know little of the world and even less of dragons" she looks sheepish, as if the black dragon would scold her.

"Mhm" he utters, scales shining under the candle light "dragons" he starts, shifting closer while resting heavily on his elbow. As he legs bump into his muscle and his face is close to her chest, looking up at her with burning eyes. They were smouldering with interest and sparking alive, fluttering like bursting fireworks, it was beautiful, "dragons are all possessive" his other hand touches her inner knee, climbing the silk to see her pale thigh.


"We don't like our things touched-" Neltharion slithers up, forehead touching her and forcing her eyes to look at his "or our mates to be looked at" his eyes were scaling, drying her own out with their blaze. "My wings are bigger then oceans and my body can blot out the sun" as her face heats up, feeling his warm hand press into upper thigh. "Do you like gifts?" Asch nods against his forehead, messing up his hair with the sudden movement "wonderful" he pushes a little, getting further into her space "I want to give you many gifts"

Asch bends to his will, easing back as he crawls over her in a slow, sensual fashion "I would like to give you things too" the implication as him purring lowly "I assure you will..."


The dragon aspect slices the silk fabric, pulling it away. Neltharion had always preferred women of the exotic races rather then his own kind. Dragons were boring compared to that of an elf or human even. Neltharion found their pink skin beautiful, the soft plush of their fatty thighs were nice to touch, no scales or rough skin. Asch was flushed a dark colour, her tits were pleasing, rosy and palm sized. Neltharion wasn't ashamed of his nudity and let her have privilege of seeing this form endowment, hanging between his legs, pulsing and twitching. Asch refused to look at it, Neltharion found it endearing. Promised virgin indeed.

Neltharion touched the hardest part of her groin, pressing one clawed finger against it, thinking how his babies would grow inside. Idly, he wondered how they would gestate, would they be birthed outright as a squalling babe or would she pass his brood as eggs. Neltharion was curious to see the outcome.

Asch wiggles under his hold, legs kneading into his skin uncomfortably "you are very alluring" he whispers, watching her flushed expression darken "spread your legs further, I wish to have my pleasures" Neltharion was a generous lover in the past, he would show his mate just how attentive he could be.

Asch does as told, hiding away in her shoulder, eyes squeezed shut. The pink little cunt between her legs was perfect, Neltharion was smirking at the wetted lips and shiny hole, his pointed tongue licked up quickly, indulging in her fantastic taste. Asch jumps, arching off the bed, Neltharion lustfully peeks at her, tongue darting between her soft petals, lapping at the tangy juices. The little elf was thrashing, mewling loudly and thrusting against his mouth without control. Neltharion dents her thighs with his claws, making scratches and bruises in the perfect shape of his palms. The aspect drowns in her moaning, daring to cause more by toying his fingers into her wet heat.

The elf fucks herself into them, letting the crazy waves of pleasure grasp her. The wild jerks and harsh movements, Neltharion was putting between her thighs, encouraging her on by doubling his attentions. Making the sea of pleasure buzz.

Virgins were always the most fun to be with, his new mate was beautiful. Neltharion liked watching how engrossed and unabashed her pleasure was, how wet she was.

"Nel-Ne.." Asch hiccuped, grasping at the bed, Neltharion grins against her, grabbing her hand and guiding it too one of his massive horns. Asch grips it, nails racking into the stoney shell. It felt nice. It didn't take very long to make her come, Neltharion buried his fingers inside, twisting and teasing her walls until her gasped became labeled breaths and she finally crashed, coming around his tongue with a whine.

"Nel..." she mewls weakly, twitching as he abused her for a few more minutes. Neltharion licked his fingers clean while hicking up her legs to rest on his hips. Asch pulls him weakly, holding him to her skin as he lined his cock up.

Entering in one swift motion made Asch squeak, there was were no tears, but blood did seep onto the sheets. Neltharion kisses along her chest, sucking her skin to a dark blotch before moving onto her neck, his teeth nipped her skin. Asch trembled as he worked, legs shaking. Neltharion hisses, forcing himself deeper, coming with a burst.

Asch clings to him, holding his shoulders. The dragon purrs, licking her skin. Neltharion' eyes slit, his tongue runs over his teeth and he flips Asch over, snarling as he aligns himself again and enters, Asch wails, flinching as he pulls her ass up and makes her back bow. Black dragons were violent lovers, Asch yelps, Neltharion snarls, hiding his face in the back of her neck. Asch would learn about how black dragons compared to humans and other dragons, but the aspect wouldn't be too rough with her.


Asch lets a straggled cry loose, gripping the pillows with strained hands. The dragon locks up her spine, finally sinking his teeth in the meet of her neck, Asch screams, forcing herself onto him.


Xxx

Neltharion stood very tall next to his mate, the dragon gifted her with many pretty jewelry, bangles and rings, even a crown made of earth that didn't chip or ruin. Alexstrasza prettied her consorts, all dragons felt the need to show status through their mates and primes. Alex made Korialstrasz wear elaborate armour and jewels, Neltharion smirks at his sister, laughing quietly as they came to stand with the other aspects.

"Brother" the red dragon greets, head tilted as she looked at Asch "I thought it was still your season?" All dragons had times when they would disappear into their private lands and take a life mate. Neltharion and other black dragons spent every moment up until the spring full moon poked into the sky looking for a mate, wooing them and consummating before showing them in public. Neltharion had a purpose and he felt no threat from his siblings.

"Mhm, I've come only temporarily sister. I was going to present her at our celebration" the flights come together after every seasons end, presenting their mate or newborns, Alex was preparing to flaunt her own brood as was her sister Ysera. His brothers, Nozdormu and Kalecgos were both ending and beginning their seasons, Noz came out of his with a lovely mate, who he was purring and doting upon now. Kal was readying to leave in the next few days.

Nozdormu looks over, distracted enough by the statement "ah, what have you come for then, brother?" Black dragons are territorial at best, furious about any who look at their mates, it must have been quite the oddity to see Neltharion out during his season. "I've come to ask you to grant my mate eternal" Alex reguarded him, glancing at Asch "ah, she is mortal, not of our kin?" Neltharion shakes his head, turning to look at her. The black gemstones gleamed around the gold settings. "Of course brother, bring her here."

The magics of each dragon flared to life, the aray of colours flared to life around her, Asch stood among the five aspects, black, blue, red, yellow and green shot out at her. The at sensation was light, tingly. It was too much.

Asch collapsed into Neltharion, he caught her before she could even stumble. "Ah, thank you sister" Neltharion picks her up, smiling lazily at the others. "We shall see you again at the celebration." The black dragon inclined his head, smirking as Kal opened a portal behind him as he walked back into it.

Xxx

As the days went by Asch became more comfortable around Neltharion, as he did himself. Asch knew his mortal form wasn't all truth, seeing Alexstrasza and his brothers told Asch that dragons could be more liberal with their appearances. Like the first night they were together, at the beginning Neltharion had the appearance of any high elf, of course the aspect couldn't perfect the complete appearance of a mortal. His skin was ashen and his eyes were molten red. By the end of the night his horns were exposed and his scales were all along his body.

Dragons had the unconscious need to be what they were, they could easily maintain mortal form, but it did still take effort. Now, he had claws, horns darker skin and could sprout wings. It was handsome to see. Sometimes he even had a tail.

Nothing was more beautiful then when he was himself. Asch only saw it once, but she was in awe.

Now the dragon was lounging, reading as Asch cleans her hair, washing the long white locks with lavender. The celebration was only two days away and later today they were going to the temple too spend the days for the celebration and a few after. Neltharion said that his siblings were curious about her.

Chapter Text

Neltharion's cock caught in her rim, recently Asch had adapted to his appearance. Now, more than just his horns had surfaced. Neltharion's cock was long, thick and had a soft pointed tip rather then rounded like an elfs. It had ribs like scales from the tip to the base. Asch for an elf was rather adventurous about it, touching it even though it made her blush wildly and become completely embarrassed.

Asch gasps, pushing back onto him, riding his dick, bouncing at her pace while Neltharion laid still, enjoying her. The temple was quiet around them, dragons flew around the open windows, guarding the wasteland.

The celebration was tonight and Neltharion was quite excited to see his siblings, their consorts and babies. Neltharion hopes that his seed took hold and his own children are growing. The aspect might be able to smell it on her, their senses were far greater. Asch hadn't changed much since the aspects gave her the eternal life. The black dragon was fascinated by it and asked her many things.

The little elf told him she felt lighter, more well then she had before, but nothing changed her. Like his own and his sisters Asch's eyes misted and glow, besides that outlier nothing more was altered physically. Alex sent him a letter saying such, although she did promise a greater chance of conception. Asch wasn't yet, but when it happened it would be easy to tell.

Dragons gestation periods were far shorter then any beings, Asch would either give birth to an egg that would hatch at normal speeds or a babe. It would be curious to see her carry a child, what it would come out as. The baby would certainly have dragonkin traits, horns and ashen skin. It would look elvish because of Neltharion's chosen appearance, no matter the gender it would always look more like the sire rather the mother. It's natural form would be that of a humanoid rather then a dragon. The opposite to Neltharion, but the great black dragon welcomed this, it would be interesting to teach the child how to keep the form of a dragon, rather then elf.

Whatever it decided to form as Neltharion knew it wouldn't be deformed, many dragons were wary of mortal mates, afraid their children would be strange in some way. Neltharion wasn't so daft.

If their baby were hatch as a dragon Neltharion would will it too appear elvish as he did himself, once it grew old enough he would teach it proper magic and how to change themselves at their will. The possibilities were unexplored and as far as the aspect knew, he was the first to have taken a mortal mate. Even Alex wasn't so bold and she adored the lesser races. The differences between he and Asch were great but none of them really got in the way of their life. He had no desire to mate in his true form. It was messy and painful, scales would rub and rip and wings would bash into each other. Having her like this, so close and Intimate was far more appealing to him to the former.

Asch wasn't concerned with his scales or the shape of his cock, she enjoyed it far more then when he fully embodied a high elf. Their cocks were so smooth and blunt. Hardly interesting or appealing in Neltharion's opinion, how they pleased their women was beyond him. Asch was louder, became wetter and sat on his cock longer now that it held its true texture and girth. At first she had trouble taking him, it didn't fit and stretched her painfully, but Neltharion was a patient man, they spend hours adjusting her. Now she easily sat on his hips, able to take the full length, despite the new shape it took.

It wasn't too greatly different, it was thicker yes, but other then the soft scales and tip it was much like a mortals.

Neltharion was rather proud. His sister was worried that he would never truly be himself with a mortal woman, that it would be too strange for her. But here he sat, darkened skin, horns tall and scales shining.

Xxx


Asch wore black, gold an red gems. The silk Neltharion gifted her covered her chest in an elegant wrap and the skirt only draped over her front and back, her legs and thighs were completely exposed to the colds of dragonblight. Compared to the other consorts and mates, Asch was dressed the most extravagant. Alex paraded her welps to her family while Noz danced with his mate. Kal was by himself, watching his sisters brood while Ysera spoke to her flight.

There were few black dragons attending, those who had bowed and presented Asch with lotions and charms, giving their respects to the new queen. It was all very odd, but Neltharion easily explained dragonkin traditions and etiquette. If mates of black dragons weren't wearing the most expensive and beautiful things then it was considered disgraceful.

Neltharion himself wore very nice armour, blacks and golds, a regal crown that matches Asch's, but was far grander then her own. He looked quite handsome.
"Ah!" Nozdormu finally peels his eyes away from his mate, Soridormi. The other bronze drake follows close behind her mate. Neltharion inclines his head, bowing in respect to his brother "she is as beautiful as you've said" Sori quips, her alien eyes blinking, "as are you" Neltharion knew which flights had the most friction, bronze and black, Blue and green. Though their leaders were family, the distaste still lingered.

Bronze drakes don't believe in showy bangles and jewels, they believed in expressions. Neltharion gave both affections and things to his new mate, but Sori disliked his flight reguardless. Nozdormu tuts, smiling at his sibling "it seems our poor brother had come once again without a mate" both look over at Kal, standing by his lonesome while watching Alex happily dote upon her babies, her own consort hovering by.

"Shame" Noz agrees "I hope to think next time he will come with a consort. We're eagerly awaiting my seed to take, I wish to come with my own babes" the aspect touches Sori's belly, running his soft fingers lightly over the flesh before laying his hands completely flat. "As are we, I believe we are close to conceiving" Sori holds her husbands hand still while she stares at Asch "where have you come from Asch?"

The elf wasn't expecting to be asked any questions "oh- I" she stutters, Neltharion holds a hand into her back. Reassuring and heavy "I come from dalaran. My family manages trading posts." Sori hums, a slightly fowl sounding noise "and how have you come into our company?" Asch was gifted to the earth aspect because there was no greater honour. Many of her people were given to dragons of all flights, blue, green even red. Men and women believed there was no higher calling. Asch wasn't expecting to be given to Neltharion but her mother and father were incredibly proud.

"I choose her" Neltharion supplies, Sori squints at this "what for?" Neltharion pulls Asch close, "because she is beautiful, exotic and I find her fascinating" over the last few months of his season when Neltharion wasn't mounting her he spent much time asking all sorts of questions, doting upon her when he left to attend things. Asch happily told him her life and what she did for amusement. Neltharion made sure she was never bored and tried to have her in his presence almost all hours of the day.

Besides teaching her his culture Neltharion wished to show her how to rule as queen. It was a rather taxing responsibility, Asch was a noble and knew basics, but she adored learning about his flight. Neltharion easily made her laugh and loved simply having her near. It was easily one of his best decisions to choose her has his mate for life. At first the great dragon didn't believe he would find enjoyment, but he needed someone to be his queen. Both found this venture shockingly wonderful.
Asch had said much one night after they had finished having each other. Curled up to his side she admitted that she was scare and didn't like the idea of being given away, even though it was a high honour. Neltharion was glad for the honesty and assured her he'd do nothing to disgrace her or make her unhappy.

After that those late night talks and long conversations became a high point for them both. The aspect loved laying down the the night and listening to her day or talking about something that interested them both. Usually it was about Asch's crystal collection back in her home. Neltharion promised to have it delivered to their home and now made it a fowl to fill whatever gaps remain in the precious collection. Asch also loved to grow plants, trees and flowers. It was a surprise, but once they got home he was going to present her with a vast milled land for her to make whatever she wished, a garden, a beautiful terrace, a maze or even a cove of trees to hide in.

Sori scowled at his retort, "I see. How lovely" Noz could see how tense it had become and wished his brother and new sister a swift farewell before whisking he ill tempered mate far away. "Ah, what have I done?" Neltharion smiles at her, patting her hand gently "nothing sweet elf, the bronze flight does not like us very much, come let us see my sister and her babies" Asch was excited, it showed on her face as they turned to where Alex was. Asch loved babies, even if they were little welps, squalling and puffing out black smoke.

"Alex, dear sister" Neltharion calls, gaining her attention "brother" her sweet, motherly voice was like music. "You've quite the brood" dragons have one or two babies per season. Alex managed to have three healthy looking welps, they all flapped around her, cooing and bumping their mother while their happy father, Korialstrasz watched.

"Yes, I'm a so happy" she chirps, waffling her finger into one babies skin, causing it to yip and squeal "they are lovely" Asch giggles, watching as one boldly twirls in the air, "mhm I have much to look forward too" both Neltharion and Alex shared the same views when it came to child rearing. Most dragons charged a caretaker to look after their young. Neltharion would have none of it, he would teach his child, care for its needs. Asch most likely wouldn't have accepted any other way. Alex did not either, every brood she took personal care until they were old enough. Among the last, this would be her third successful clutch. The previous held only two in total, one for each time.

There was much work involving young, Neltharion knew this but was eager to do it.

Alex eyes eyes critically "it's very faint" she says, reaching to touch her belly just barely "but there is life" joy sprung over his sister face "ah truly?" The black dragon eagerly touches the warm skin, Asch herself looks excited by the news, colouring a beautiful rosy shade. "Yes I can feel it, you will as well in a few days" Alex was the life binder, in tune with all essences of life. Neltharion trusted her judgement and allowed his happiness to show "wonderful, thank you my sister" he kisses her forehead, embracing her sweetly.

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Asch was awoken by a loud crash outside their window, jolting up she saw dragons spitting fire and crashing into one another.
"Nel!" She shrieks, backing up to re headboard. From the living space the earth aspect rushed too her, Noz and Alex following "here my darling" he beckons, pulling her to his breast "what's happening?!" Her cry was muffled by his embrace. "We're being attacked by scourage-" "it's a frenzy outside" Alex hisses, angrily looking outside "brother what we discussed...?" Neltharion frowns lightly, looking back at his brother.

"Is it smart? I'd rather her in the safety of our home" Asch glances between them, confused "what?" She chirps, squinting "welps and mates are locked in the bowels of the temple" Asch knew this protocol, when she grew up dalaran was a hostile place often enough that the women and children had to go to the safe room below the keep.

"It is your decision brother" it was likely Asch would be the only dragons mate to be put down with the welps, maybe a guard will be with them, but Asch felt helpless as she thought about how Nozdormu and his mate would be out their, protecting the temple. Neltharion shakes his head "no, I've decided I will take to home- Kal!" The blue drake thrusts himself forward "open a portal to my lair. I'll get her home and return to you."

Asch gathered herself as the blue dragon and Neltharion himself prepared the portal. "Darling" he calls, urgency in his tone. Asch perks, holding her satchel "go to the dresser and open the top middle drawer" Asch goes quickly, rolling brought the drawer "a black box" Asch palms it, pulling it out "I wanted to wait but open it- quickly" inside the box was a broken fragment, black and a harsh reddish colour "it's a broken sclae from my hide, I rougher you would like it" Asch did, quickly she tied it on, fixing the leather to hide the knot "now through the portal, I'll see you when it's over!"

Asch went blind for a few dazzling seconds before their home enveloped her, their bed and bathroom appearing as usual, behind the portal snapped shut. The sudden loneliness sunk in.

It hadn't been long but Asch had begun to worry, thumbing the surface of the fragment with harsh motions. Neltharion and his siblings could be laying their lives down. a queazy feeling set in and made Asch feel sick. She couldn't tell if it was morning sickness or an onset of her worry. Either way, she rushed to the bathroom and expelled her stomach. In next five hours were filled with nervous pacing and checking the entrance for his massive approaching figure.

Asch finally decided to do something productive with her time, cleaning their space and attempting to dress for bed. There were small aches coming from her stomach, but Alex said she was pregnant so it had to be the baby.

It took a long time to fall asleep, it was raining outside, beating down harsh above her. The sound of thunder cracked.

Neltharion shook mud the mud away from his face, it caked his claws and festered in his wounds. Alex huffs indignantly beside him "they've tapered off" she claims, looking over the hill. Neltharion turned his massive head, watching all the dragons flights fight off the remaining scrounge. Hundreds were dead. Thousands of scorage were burning in the melted snow and dirt. Neltharion was sickened by the scent of death.

"Noz will do a final sweep with his flight. I and Kal will gather our dead. Ysera has the scourage- go home brother" Alex was tired, she was haggard looking and had a nasty slash on her shoulder. Neltharion was no better, his wings were damaged and his neck was bleeding, nothing threatening. "Are you sure?" Alex nods, horns cutting the wind "I'll come back tomorrow, to help" Alex eyes him "no brother you've a well on the way, stay with her" Neltharion glares thinly at his sister "and you've already had three. If you can stay I will come back."

Alex sighs pleasantly, shaking her head, droplets flying off in waves "alright brother. Say hello for me- tell her everyone is fine" Neltharion beganr to flap his wings, gaining height "yes sister I will, be well. Come for me if you need anything." Alex watches her brother go for a few moments, watching the massive black welt grow smaller along the grey smoky skyline. Then she closes her eyes, ready to continue.

Neltharion made it home in good time, under an hour of flying through heavy rain and thunder. The cave was warm and she had braziers lit to make light all though the housez Neltharion quenched some flames, darkening the house, but left any near their bedroom. The filth weighted him down but he watched through his castle, mucking the floor with human shaped mud prints. When he finally got to their bed he found Asch asleep, holding desperately to a pillow. Quietly he stacked passed, leaving the little lights in to see and clean himself.

Neltharion stopped the blood flow, cleaned the caking crust and washed the dirt that he could reach. It was unfinished and he felt filthy, but he wouldn't wake Asch to wash his hair or the parts he could not see or reach. Neltharion could still feel grease and dirt covering him as he came back to Asch. She looked very fitful, scared even in sleep.
Neltharion approached carefully, sliding next to her under the thick furs and silks. The ache and hurt in his bones seized as he drifted off.


The peace didn't last, thunder boomed, shaking the foundation of the castle, awaking both dragon and mate. Asch gasped, flying upward while Neltharion's eased away from the noise, groaning. Asch, still frightened arched away from him, squeaking "wh-what... Nel?" The dragon gave a lazy smile, looking up at her from the plush pillow "you're safe!" Asch covered him, grabbing what she could to clutch into. Neltharion laughs, moving to hug her properly "I came home an hour ago, I didn't want to wake you" Asch squeezes him, uncaring how dirty he was "everyone is alright, we beat the scrounge back" Asch climbed into his open lap, hugging him to her breast. Neltharion purrs, touching her sides, rubbing his thumbs into her soft skin.

"How are you? How is our babe?" His hand went to touch her belly, the soft right flesh was solid "I am happy you are home. As is our baby" Asch nuzzles his flesh "mhm I'm glad" there was a pause "I was so scared for you" Neltharion nods "I know, I won't leave you alone in this world" Asch crinkles her nose "you smell of death" Neltharion laughs again, loudly. "Yes, I didn't want to wake you by running a bath" Asch smiling lightly "I am awake now, go you are fowl" Neltharion finds her honestly charming, easing her off and going to bathe.

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Becoming Highlord had ceremony, her father was present and Garrosh was standing beside the alter as she was crowned and given the Ashbringer. The weapon was glorious, heavy and the flames swirling in the middle flared to life with new purpose.
Asch however put it down, looking at Garrosh "your ceremony is soon" he nods "here" Asch grabs Gorehowl "use it, bring me honour" Asch couldn't use both Ashbringer and Gorehowl. They were too heavy and needed two hands to wield. It also wouldn't look too great that she was using a warriors weapon.

Garrosh flinches as she presents the weapon "it's yours" he regects it, pushing it away "no" she prods "what's mine is yours, please take it my love" Garrosh eyes it, a worried expression, eventually he takes it. Garrosh had given Gorehowl away to her, had let it go a long time ago, but he needs it just as much as she. Commanding an army without a legendary weapon did not command respect. Asch would keep Gorehowl, she loved the weapon, how it balanced and its striking pattern. Asch knew she couldn't use it as Highlord, she only allowed herself to use Ashbringer because it was Tirion's and the crusader wouldn't want the weapon to gather dust.

Asch didn't want Gorehowl to go without. The weapon was a legion breaker more so then Ashbringer. It slew Mannoroth and broke throusands of demons upon its blade. Ashbringer was the scourge bane, the weapon that slew the Lichking. Asch was there, she remembered how it spilt frostmorne in half. She held one of the twelve pieces.

Garrosh held the weapon and stared at himself in its reflection, Asch took good care of it. The blade shined and every night she insisted to sharpen and wet it until the blade glinted. "I won't betray this" Asch smiles, touching his arm "I know. Let us go to your ceremony, Battlemaster."

Garrosh snorts, heaving the axe onto his shoulder, while grabbing Asch and pulling her to his side "as you say, Highlord."

Skyhold was vast and beautiful. The sky was golden and the Valkyrie greeted them with bows, their wings spread out and spears pointed. Odyn stood and preformed the ceremony. Garrosh' crown was made of steel and blood jems. It was magnificent.


As the days passed so did the legion. Garrosh and Asch lived in Dalaran and most days they woke up ate and went their separate ways. The days are long and full of planning. Asch assisted paladins, went out herself and fought legion demons and once she came home Garrosh met her and both were far to exhausted to do anything else but sleep in a heap of limbs.

Their bed was big, their apartments were one of the few nice ones afforded to important members of the council.

Xxx


Asch often found herself throwing up at the oddest of times, the men she commanded knew nothing of her pregnancy and for now she would keep it this way, but she knew today she had to see her father. Asch dismissed herself, leaving the care and duties to Borois, making her way to the skyhold was queezy and once she got up there she was dizzy and lightheaded.

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It was noticeable how badly bruised and beaten he was. Cuts and nicks, gashes and welts. Asch was very upset when she saw the extent of his injuries.

Her fury wasn't as impacting however. The babe growing inside her had puffed her skin and made her considerably bigger in the last few weeks, it would be less then a month before she gave birth. Alex came to them long after the battle to tell Neltharion their losses, out of many of them the black and blue flights had taken a harder hit. The earth aspect would bury his dead. She came with happier news that Asch would have a normal birth, a little humanoid babe was growing rather then an egg. Asch confessed that she was glad it wasn't an egg, completely terrified of how that would go.

Neltharion laughed at her, saying it would be quite the experience since she couldn't turn into a dragon. She would certainly need his sister Alex to help with the birth, he was thankful however that it wasn't the case. Family or not the only one present for such a thing should be him an no one else. Black dragons were very private. Still, he knew that if they ever conceived an egg that he would have to put his comforts aside for his mates safety.

Neltharion of course knew nothing of birthing an egg and since Asch didn't either she could risk herself and their egg.

"They are forming perfectly" Alex sounds very happy, smiling as she touched the bump with warm hands "I'm so glad" Neltharion shares his sentiments with a slow, lazy nod. "They will be your heirs?" Neltharion freezes, Asch frowns "why wouldn't they be?" Alex quickly realizes what she has just caused.

Neltharion sighs "I have... other children" none of them were his heir apparent they were from pervious seasons, long before Asch was alive "I have five. They cannot challenge our child's claim" Asch glare at him "I don't care about that, he didn't you tell me? What if they try to hurt our baby?!" Neltharion would sooner kill them before letting harm come to his child, but doesn't elect to tell her that.
"They have no claim, they are not children of my mate, they know this" Asch doesn't seem comforted by this at all.

"Our baby isn't a dragon appearing as human like you, they have far more power!" This isn't necessarily true. Asch's child could have mounds more power then his precious brood mothers clutchs. He understood why she was worried "having a mortal mother does not make our child incapable, Asch" he says it like a promise but she still stares at him with a fowl expression "who are they? Do they know I'm carrying?" Neltharion thinks of his children, or had been so long since he bothered to seek them out after their birth.

There was Nefarian, Sabellian, Wraithion, Neltharaku and his daughter Onyxia.

Wraithion would know, he made it his Business to know such things about his father. If the little whelp knew better he would come and present his fathers mate with a gift. Wraithion cared little for his siblings, so it was hard to say if the others would know. Nefarian might, but Neltharion cared little if their approval.

"My youngest boy may. He may even come here and be pleasant. He's no bigger then one of Alex's whelps, he cannot hurt you. My eldest may too. You've nothing to fear" Asch looked apprehensive about his claims, but Neltharion leans over toward her, cooing softly at the bump under her silky dress "I won't let anything happen to my family" still, he added "but I will find where my children are and see if they pose a threat and their mothers, if that'll make you happy?"


Alex had excused herself to the living area a long time ago, giving them privacy to mend the issues she caused. Did she think her brothers children would cause grief? Yes, she truly believed they would try and hurt Asch and their baby, would Neltharion slaughter his brood? Yes, Alex knew she couldn't stop him either.

"I know how you will deal with them if they do" she says with an unpleasant eye "but yes, knowing they won't hurt our baby would put my mind at rest" Neltharion smiles gently, rubbing her bump "then I shall put you at ease"

There was a long period of quiet flying, as usual. Sometimes Neltharion would hear people if the city was big enough, now he was flying over the great sea, headed off to the blackrock where his eldest son was hiding away.

The blot his shadow made was magnificent, there was already a party waiting for him at his sons castle. Neltharion quickly shifts and drops to the ground, dusting off his armour as he allowed the guards to escort him.

Inside it was black, molten and ugly. The guards took him all the way to the throne where his son stood, looking at parchments "father" he says with a tone of indifference "to what do I owe this visit?" Neltharion was unconcerned with his sons childish display of petulance "my new mate. Word has roamed about her conception" his son finally looks up with him. At the time of his birth Neltharion had chosen a human guise, there for his son became a man. Black haired and bearded with a white face and red eyes.

"I have heard rumours... it's true then?" He nods slowly circling to the other side of his son, standing far back "yes, I'm sure you know why I have come here" Nefarian scowls "so what Wraithion says is true. You're going to make that little halfbreed your heir-" "silence!" Neltharion's voice booms, smoke arising from his mouth and nose with each exhale "do well to remember that you live because I allow it" there was a tight expression and angry eyes cast at him, but Neltharion did not care.

"Don't be boring" Nefarian snaps, clutching the parchment to ruin "is it love father? Did you fall in love with a mortal?" He spits the word like poison "why else would you make her your mate and crown her queen? She carries your seed so you come begging-" Neltharion blasts him with powerful magic, sending the princeling flying across the room, skidding against the rock floor "threaten, boy. I came to threaten. The halfbreed will be king of the black flight, a mortals son- and you, you will do nothing but rot here." There was a sick smile crossing the aspects face.

"Or I will flatten this hovel and burn your subjects and present your head to my new mate" there was deep hatred burning in his sons eyes as Neltharion turns away "send for that little whelp of mine, I wish to see him at my castle- oh and do behave."


Neltharion his eldest would not stand to be ruled by Asch's child, knew that he would curse his father and plan little offensives. It would be entertaining to see, he rather disliked the little whelp, always so entitled, fault of his mother. The consort believed their son would be king since it was Neltharion's first. First or last, it was meaningless now. Asch was his queen, mate and his baby would be crown prince. Whatever they make after this child would have more claim to the crown then his previous children.

When he arrived Asch was happy to see him, pink and excited, happy that he told her that he fixed it with Nefarian. Alex knew tenant fix meant and gave him a exhausted look "thank you sister for staying with her" Neltharion kisses her cheek "my pleasure. I hope you will have me again soon, the baby's life energy is very pleasant and happy" Neltharion was glad to hear and promised his sister more invites while letting her out.


When he returned Asch looked uncomfortable, fidgeting "darling?" He asks, watching her "they... they're moving?" Neltharion rushes to her, excited to feel the baby. "Ah" he says warmly, they were kicking "here" his hand grabs hers, moving it right under his where he felt he kicks. Asch bursts into tears, giggling as the kicks persisted. "Ohh hello there" she coos, Neltharion smiles "ah my love I have something to ask of you" she says, whipping her tears away "yes?"

"May we visit my parents? Before the baby comes I'd like to see them" Neltharion ponders her request "yes of course, after my son comes here- don't worry it's my youngest. He's adept at magic, but far more limited then I. He won't hurt you or the baby" Asch sighs, agreeing to his terms

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Varian waits at her stables with Asch. Their horses were being saddled. Today Varian wasn't wearing anything heavy. Light linens and fluffed pants. Asch was in leather pants and a senseable shirt.

Varian's horse was massive, black and imposing. It took a very long time to break it. Now Varian was the only one able to ride it. The horse Asch was given was mild, sweet. It's as white as her hair. His horse, Ominous shook his head, breathing heavily. Pera, Asch's horse huddled next too it.

Pera was the only mare that Ominous accpected. The two had made many foals. Asch gasps, looking at his stallion, Ominous was easy around with Varian around. Asch pets the muzzle of the monstrous horse. Varian watched them, a smile in his face "have you seen much of Elwynn Forest?" Asch looks back at him "no, I heard it's very beautiful" Varian hasn't been riding in ages, the forest hasn't changed much but it would be good to see it. Both of them were so busy, after this week Varian was going to be swamped with work as was Asch. Though, if she liked his company as much as Varian did they would make it work.

Varian mounted his horse, watching as she tested the reins. Pera was a sweet horse and did as told while Ominous reared and snorts, becoming impatient. Varian usually rode him hard, racing to the coast and back, to the end of Redridge or Duskwood. The horse was fearless when it came to giant spiders and bandits.

Today however Ominous would walk, at most gallop. Today he wasn't in a rush. "Shall we?"

The forest was thick, the hills were lush and Asch let the wind blow through her hair "where did you come from, originally?" Surprise that Varian didn't have time to ask her any of this at the gala. Besides being bombarded by guests and their silly dip in the lake.

"My parents lived here, but I was born in Dalaran. They live their and manage a enchanting shop" Varian hums, they pass many guard patrols, the both nodded as they went by. All the guards saluted. They go to a surrounded clearing, the brush thick, Varian halted, enjoying the seclusion.

Asch bit her lip, watching his hair rustle in the breeze.

"Varian" she whispers, despite her nervousness "yes?" Asch was hoping he didn't hear her. "I have... I- is this okay?" The king reguards her, confused by her words "I mean... us- doing things like this? Won't... I know the people love their queen..." Asch was certainly no Tiffin, no mother of Anduin or original queen of stormwind. There was only two ways this could go, either Varian went forward with her, getting married and all, or it stopped now. There couldn't be any in between, not with the ruler of the Alliance.

The king looks at her strangely for a long time, probably realizing the same thing. Then he sighs loudly, drawing his horse to close the distance.

"I know the position this puts you in" Asch would be called a social climber, that she was trying to erase Tiffin. Asch didn't want to replace her, destroy her memory.

"I will put my best effort, if you will"


Asch listens to his words, repeats them in her head many times, before answering "okay" Varian smiles at her.

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Lor'themar was bored. Khadgar's new Dalaran had no new charms and he lothed being here. Tidying up for the warchief because she didn't like it here either. Only difference was she had to authority to make other people go in her absence. Lor'themar could have said no, but he heard talk of how angry it made that witch Proudmoore that Horde we're still allowed on her city. Didn't seem to be her city now.

Sighing, he drank his heady beverage, one that he shouldn't be having so early in the morning. Of course he'd stink of alcohol, but it didn't bother him or what people thought.

Asher went on his day, tired as usual but still pushing. He had attended two meetings so far, one during a ungodly period of the morning and there were still three more. One about weapons, one with his officers and the last with his quartermaster about getting his saddle fixed.

"Highlord" Asher snaps up, staring completely confused. Their faces grow annoyed "were you listening?!" Asher couldn't pretend, the answer was obvious to all of them, so he shrugs, smiling bashfully. "Sir this is important! You're the one who decides the outcome!" Last he remembers they were taking about troops and deployment "we've got eighty ready men, send them to Illidan. He'll make good use of them." Asher waves it off, "he's not foolish either. Then send the new batch to Ladrian- she'll be happy we thought of her" Asher was impatient at best most times, others he was snappy and easily bored. Not perfect qualities for a Highlord, but he held Ashbringer.

"Uh.. yes Highlord". They all seemed to have had enough of it, but Asher wasn't interested in their plights. If it were later in the day and he'd gotten sleep, this would have very different. Asher was a good leader, his father made sure he was, but he had been up since four this morning, and yesterday fought on the shore helping war efforts. He was exhausted and frankly wanted a day off.

Asher was a strong man, easily bested many of the champions that came through. He held his hair up in a high foxtail and had no beard. His skin was pink and his eyes like very few of his people were a beautiful luminescent blue. His mother and father were one of handfusl of high elves left. It often caused friction with the Horde and who he dealt with, but he honoured the warchief and he assumed that was all that mattered. Many times he's spoken to Sylvanas and they had a mutual liking. She noted his eyes and call him refreshing.

From then on when she dealt with Paladins she only wished to deal with him, said to him personally over a dinner one day, he felt very honoured and said as much, but she claimed only because he wasn't pompous like the rest of them. Asher chose to take it as a compliment.

Asher didn't dare think of himself as a blood elf, they wouldn't allow it, but he did think of them as his own people, even if they didn't. "Well Highlord, I suppose that's all..." his officer muses "but, please if you can deliver this to Lord Lor'themar. Sylvanas requested it" Asher yanks the heavy stack of tied notes, all addressed to their warchief. One bad thing about being her favourite Paladin was having to do all the meaningless work. "I'll do it now-" "ah and there is a gala, for all the horse leaders, you were invited by the warchief" ah, yes Asher was expecting her to do so. That woman needed to find more people she could tolerate. It was running him ragged.

"Mhm best deliver this then. When is this gala?"

"Tonight sir" Asher rolls his eyes, sighing "what I would give to be simple. Meeting over, I'll see you in an hour for the next" many people laughed at his tone, but he was serious about being simple. How easy would it be to rub a silk shop rather then an army. Asher blamed his noble father, getting him all excited about holy powers and vanquishing demons. Mother didn't like it too much, even less when his silly father died and became a death knight. Still he was a happy old man and was proud of his son. Mother joked about the rotting smell and that Asher should visit more, get his father off her back, but she loved him anyway and still kissed his face.

Surprisingly the old goat wasn't rotting like all people said about death knights, nothing on them rotted away, his heart stopped beating but he was the same righteous soldier. Frisky too, a reason Asher didn't visit. That was nothing he wanted any part of, even when his father was breathing. "Blood doesn't stop flowing boy" that phrase still haunts him to this day "give me grandchildren before I give you a brother who will" her mother told him that was impossible now, it didn't make him feel better.

They had known from the day he was born that wives and women weren't his interest, their husbands however... his parents care little for who he found himself in bed with, or even marry. Although Asher didn't think that would be in his cards seeing as how people viewed his affliction. After highelves joined with blood they stopped being so loose and uncaring, it became very taboo for women to be with women or men with men and even sexual actions, whether straight or not was vetoed and shameful. Asher listened to his father talk about the days before all that, his mother had quite the adventures too. Neither of them were ashamed, even laughed about it with each other. It was a very bazar dinner conversation.

 

Asher grew up seeing it be shamed and scared himself out of finding a mate, didn't even know how hard it would be to seek someone like him out. Hoenstly, he didn't know where to begin. His parents hated how closeted he was, begging him to forget about their prejudices and just be what he was, but he always told them it wasn't like their time, he couldn't just be with a man, no matter how much he longed for it.

No one knew besides them, everyone thought he was still looking, some even offered their daughters. Asher didn't even have a preference when it came to their race and the alliances. Human, elf or even Tauren it didn't matter. It just couldn't be a woman. It was awkward, he was handsome and pretty girls always came to him, twirling their hair and batting their eyes, one insistent human cornered him and kissed him, Asher bolted as soon as he could, since then no one was so bold, but he always feared their would be one or two more like that girl.

What came as a bigger surprise to Asher was just how many of those girls were alliance. Father told him it was because most of the remaining people went to the alliance side and just assumed because of his heritage that Asher was too, but even when he told them none cared. He was always to handsome, they said, that they could overlook it because of his nice body. The shocking amount of nightelven women that showed their interest baffled him, Asher was tall for his races people, but not nearly as tall as a night elf. Humans were very intrigued by him as well, always saying if it worked for Vereesa. Asher always pointed out she was the elf, but they just laughed and always touched him.


Of course a small part of him wanted his own kind, but at this point Asher was just looking for companionship, someone who would just love him.

Asher just wanted what his parents had. Sometimes he thought about just finding a girl and throwing himself aside to have a family, his parents joked about it but would be very angry with him if he did so. In fact, his father always told him about the man that almost changed his life. An army buddy, father wouldn't tell him who. But in the war they shared a tent, and in that tent they spent hours together, years even. No one cared they were men, it was normal, it was happening all over the camp. They spent so much time in fact, his father almost married him. Loved him even to this day, his mother wasn't jealous, she thought it was sweet and his father thought she was amazing all because of it.

Still, he wouldn't have changed his mind about mother, they met after the war and he was just as in love.


Asher thinks fondly of his parents as he leaves, riding his golden charger up to the citadel. Dismounting as thy opened the doors Asher grabbed his stack of orders and climbed the steps, only halting to ask one of the on duty guards where he could find Lor'themar. Asher didn't talk much to the regent lord, barely saw him since he wasn't allowed in the city. It was rare that Lor'themar was even here. All his time was put to bettering his people and caring for other things. But there was no surprise he was Sylvanas errand boy, Asher was one himself.

Finding him was easy enough, the other elf was sitting in a chair, drinking whisky or some other dark alcohol, looking just as tired as Asher. "Regent lord" Asher bows politely, Lor'themar eyes him, like a shark eyes up dinner. It unsettled Asher but he persisted, still clutching the stack of papers.


Lor'themar wasn't sure what he was looking at, Sylvanas said she had another pet but he wasn't aware she liked the company of Paladins, she didn't even like his company that much, yet she trusted this one with letters of importance. Lor'themar figures the other elf didn't even notice the bold letters, confidential, scrawled across the front.

The young elf peers up, oh. A highelf, that must be why. Quickly the eyes shoot away, Lor'themar chuckles at this "don't be so sheepish, we are equals you and I" yes, this pet, the little elf she spoke of that made her smile. This must have been him. The highelf was fit, his armour held his form well and made him look very regal, very handsome.

The other elf looks up at him, straightening as if he'd snapped out of his shyness by mere words. Lor'themar smirked at the confidence "what is your name?" The regent lord knew of the new Highlord, knew he held esteem with their warcheif but knew little else "Asher, sir" curious little thing this highelf was, still a member of the horde dispite his people flocking to the alliance "curious indeed" Lor'themar muses aloud, now completely interested in the absolutely delicious elf before him.

"I was told to deliver these to you, that you would see them given to the warchief" Asher hands them to Lor'themar, "I would see them to her. She'll be very happy too have her files. Since she waited so long to get them" she'd been raving about how the fools in Dalaran lost her paper work, Lor'themar had to hear about it over seven times. "O-Oh I wasn't-" the pretty elf flushes, Lor'themar waves him off "not your fault I assure you- now shoo, little Highlord. We're both busy men" winking at the baffled elf Lor'themar gets up to leave, watching the look of shock and confusion cross Asher's face. Sylvanas will be excited to hear about this.

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Asher got dressed for the party, he wore his painted armour, hating every second of it. Some of the officers tried to sneak an invitation, flirting with him and mentioning it. If Asher didn't find it amusing he would have shrivered like a raisin. He said no, Sylvanas wouldn't like him bringing no names to her party.

The journey there was teadious since he wasn't allowed to ride his own horse. Undercity smelt as welcoming as Asher remembered, burnt death and wet dog.


Asher as shocked to see just who all came. Thrall and his mate had made it, despite all the problems he was having personally. Blaine Bloodhoof was standing in a corner, looking rather unsettled and lastly, Asher found the regent lord.

Looking right at him.

Asher felt his throat run dry, the green of his eye shined as he tipped his head to whisper something to Sylvanas. "Asher!" The dark lady waves him over. Quickly he goes, but it feels like a trap.
"Hello my lady" Asher was polite, even though Sylvanas hates it. "I assume you've met?" Asher nods "ah good-" she goes right into conversation, ignoring the fact Lor'themar was staring right at Asher, he's so nervous that he can hardly understand what's she's talking about.

"Asher" Sylvanas scowls at being interrupted "y-yes...?" "Would you like to dance?" The dark lady rolls her eyes, Asher feels his face flush "but.. but we can't" Lor'themar looks puzzled by that "of course we can, you can dance can't you? All paladins should know how to dance!" Asher weakly nods, yes he did know how to dance "you're... you're a man" Sylvanas actually laughs, watching the two "yes and? You can lead if you like" Asher flintches, "no you're... we can't I'm... we can't" it finally seemed to click and Lor'themar huffs, scowling angrily "do you want to dance with me?"

"Yes... I-I do..."

"Then we will dance and you don't have to worry, now come along."

Asher lifts his hand and as quickly as he offers it, it's snatched and Sylvanas is laughing as Asher is forced stumbling on the floor. Lor'themar is unashamed and paws at him, grabbing his waist "I was kidding about you leading" his breath is hot against Asher's skin. Everyone around them were couples, men and women. Everyone was looking at them. "I like the colour of your hair" Lor'themar says, distracting him "snow white. Mothers or fathers?"

"F-Father" Lor'themar hums pleasantly, spinning the elf "you shouldn't be so nervous, it's just dancing" Asher wanted to take comfort in those words, but found none as he caught eyes with a rather disgusted Orc, showing her displeasure obviously on her fowl face. "Not to them" Lor'themar shrugs, pulling him in closer. "One so pretty shouldn't be so shy" Asher never thought of himself as shy. Girls called him shy, but that was because he rejected them and they assumed he was being bashful.

"Are you... do you-" "do men? Not recently but yes" Lor'themar chuckles, dipping his hand dangerously down the small of Asher's back, shoving him into his chest "do you?" Asher couldn't find a good place to put his hands, fumbling around the regent lords shoulders, he felt a rush of dizziness. Lor'themar was bigger then he was, broader even without the armour. The lazy smirk plastered on his face was handsome "I... I like men yes" it felt horrid to finally say it aloud, Asher was terrified that it was a trick, a ploy, Lor'themar was going to make fun of him. Asher waited, but was only met with a softer smile.

"Perfect, would you like to keep dancing?"

"Very much so, yes" it felt like a weight was pressed to his chest, but being there, in the arms of the regent lord, he felt safe.

Sylvanas watches with mild interest, she should have never let Lor'themar near Asher. If she had known he'd grow to fancy the little Paladin she would have kept them apart... still, it had been long since she saw the elf so happy, maybe she'd relent a little, let the lord have his fun.


Lor'themar couldn't stop staring at his eyes, beautiful and blue and darting around like he was on trial. Scared, that was obvious. Asher had plump little lips and Lor'themar wanted to kiss them raw. Although Asher didn't look the type to fuck and forget, he barely looked the type to fuck at all, with how red he was getting at every sultry comment. It bothered him a bit how terrified Asher actually looked about the whole thing. They were around the same age, Lor'themar was brought up to believe whoever he enjoyed was natural, the world did not see it as so, but who was to stop him, the regent lord and Horde faction leader?

"Come, why don't we go find drinks and sit?" Asher nods very quickly, Lor'themar takes him away, hailing for drinks. The elf found a hidden booth, making sure the poor Paladin was tucked away before attempting to sit anywhere near him. "May I say you are very cute?" Lor'themar was teasing, but he really meant it, Asher had a feminine curve to his back, strong shoulders and a lovely ass. Lor'themar wanted to devour him.

"T-Thank you" Lor'themar chuckles, pulling Asher so he was flush to his side. Everything he had heard about the high elf he squeezed out of Sylvanas last minute. She has suspected he liked men, was very smart and proud in battle. Nothing shook him and under pressure he thrived, yet what replaced him was timid and meek. Lor'themar didn't mind it, liked how easily he could get a blush out of him in fact, but it upset him to think he was scared to show his attraction and Lor'themar knew he was.


Lor'themar had many partners, some that lasted years, ones he thought about mating and marrying even. Asher however probably just admitted he liked men for the first time. "So how goes the fight?" Lor'themar was prone to scaring off partners by either going to fast or not fast enough. Asher was easily spooked, so he chose a neutral topic, one Asher knew lots about. "Exhausting" he mutters "we get little advances day by day, but it's slow. Just yesterday I pushed my squad into taking four footholds, securing it for supplies... my bones haven't ached like this in years" Lor'themar hisses, knowing exactly what that felt like. Sylvanas kept him busy, off the battlefield. For now at least she needed him where he was, sending supplies and troops.

"Impressive, I bet they didn't like that" Asher snorts, looking more relaxed then he had been a moment ago "I thought they were going to string me up and leave me but I'm told those supplies helped" Asher had many accolades and achievements, being the front of their armies and helped avert many potential tragedies. He was at Hellfire, the siege, the fall of deathwing. This little Paladin had been part of it all. And he was still impressing the world.


"Sylvanas speaks very highly of you" Lor'themar understood why, "it's a great honour" the regent lord hums, "am I your first?" Asher almost choked, but Lor'themar laughed, correcting himself "first interested party?" By default he'd be answering both, but Asher suspected he wanted to know that anyway "yes... I admit it was surprise" Lor'themar got that a lot, he assumed Asher did as well. "Glad that it was, the look on your face was precious" Lor'themar adored making him blush.

"How... did you know?" Lor'themar snorts "you don't even look at the women. You're very bad at pretending" and Asher was far too pretty to like women. "Don't worry it's not that obvious" Asher looked relieved. "The party seems to be aging quite terribly" Lor'themar muses, overlooking the rest of the room, Sylvanas was no where to be found and many of the important people were gone as well, only handfuls of couples left were dancing and the food was diminishing "what do you say to dinner? Tomorrow night. Will you be staying here? I know a lovely inn not far from here" Lor'themar blamed Sylvanas for making him come here all the time, but eventually even the city of the dead had its charms.

"Oh... Yes Sylvanas wanted me to look over some plans she had I'll be here for a couple of days" excellent. Lor'themar grins widely "it's a date then!"


Asher had no idea how he managed to get himself in such a predicament. Lor'themar was handsome, no doubt about that. He was very smart and interesting and everything Asher was looking for in a mate, but it was terrifying. Pitifully enough, he wanted to talk to his mother. Tell her how exciting and nerve wrecking it all was. A man was interested in him, interested in taking him to dinner. Lor'themar Theron of all people as well. Mother would be squealing and his father would make fun of him and make jokes that were too sexual. Above all else they would be very happy.


Asher wasn't sure how to dress. Every function he attended required him to wear armour. Asher had no idea what he was suppose to wear. It was dinner, so something nice- Asher didn't even think he owned nice. "Gah!" He huffs, ruffling his fluffy hair. Asher, after fifth teen minutes decided on a simple black shirt and pants. That would be good enough, he hoped at least.


Lor'themar was meeting Asher here, he stood waiting, leaning on pillar, eyeing people as they went. He chose not to hide, knowing no one would bother him. "Lor'themar!" Asher had a distinct voice, a honey milk tone with just enough roughness. The regent lord found him instantly.

Lor'themar was struck, staring clearly as he made it over, how could he be so pretty? "Hi..." he says shyly, his hair was down, a curtain of snow around his shapely face "hello" Lor'themar practically purrs, already reaching to touch him. Asher allowed it, Lor'themar could feel him go hot against his finger tips, Asher had such soft, plush skin. It was the same shade of sun kiss as Lor'themar's own "come, dinner" Lor'themar dropped his hand only slightly, bidding Asher to take it.


The people around them were watching, Asher could feel it under his skin, but a more bold and desperate part took hold of the lager hand. Lor'themar grins at him, tugging Asher along. The inn was very little and had a handful of people, one the keeper, a minstrel and cooks behind the bar "finest wine thank you" Lor'themar requests, ushering Asher to a table. It was in the back, secluded and secretive. As if they were going to divulge secrets rather then eat dinner.

"They have excellent soup" Lor'themar tells him, smiling in just a way that made his eye shine. Asher had never seen Lor'themar without the small brown patch covering his dead eye. It made him wonder if it was just unseeing, or not there at all. Lor'themar noticed his wondering gaze, brow tilting in question. "O-Oh sorry..." the other elf laughs at him, flicking his hair away from his shoulder "no, please it's only fair" Asher colours "I can't help stare at you either" Asher wasn't sure if he was being serious, or just trying to flatter him.

"So... um- how many men have you..." he trails off, not sure how to ask, "naughty boy- I don't think I'll tell you that" Asher squeaks indignantly "no no I meant-" "only teasing gorgeous. I've been with three. My last relationship ended two years ago or so" Lor'themar wasn't completely sure how long it had actually been, but last he recalled he stopped getting regular sex around that amount of time. "And you?" Asher gulps, shaking his head "I've never..." "ah I'll be the first to court you, how exciting" Asher always got so dizzy when he spoke like that.

It was almost a struggle to say "c-court me?" Lor'themar nods, holding his comment as the server brings the wine and glasses "two of your soups thank you" the lady bows politely leaving quickly "of course, every person I take interest in isn't just a fad or fancy- now tell me what you do for fun?"

Asher had listened to his soldiers talk about taking their girls out places, walks, dinner and dancing. Not even for a second did he consider he could have that too. It was bazar. Lor'themar let him talk, liked listening to him talk about his strange father who inspired him into becoming a Paladin, or his sweet mother who still loved the death knight her husband became.

"Do your parents know?" Asher nods "they encouraged it." Their food arrived and none too surprisingly Asher loved it. They chatted meaninglessly between eatting and by the end of it, Lor'themar could admit he was a little drunk.

Form the stale pink on Asher's cheeks he was too. Lor'themar didn't intend to get the poor thing drunk. "When did you find out? That you liked men?" Lor'themar's lips twitch into a grin "ever since I was young. How about you?"

"A girl kissed me and it felt wrong... ever since I've been attracted to... men" Lor'themar hums, "would you like to go for a walk?"

"Yes" Asher jolts, a small part of him was annoyed by Lor'themar paying for him, like he was the woman, but another liked it a little.

Chapter Text

Neltharion sits behind his wife, cradling her belly as the guards brought his youngest boy, Wraithion. The sly little whelp was devilish and sneaky, far too amused by human affairs. He fixes his coat, smiling presently "a pleasure, my queen" flattery, Wraithion was ever the charmer.

"Hello" Asch nods, folding her own hands across her belly, as if trying to hide it. "I honestly didn't expect you to come" Neltharion muses, raising a long brow. Wraithion seats himself across, picking at the fruits Neltharion had set out for Asch. "Well dear father, I cannot rightly ignore such a summons" very true. Neltharion would have hunted him down and forced him to be pleasant, although, his child did have love for mortals, for whatever reason. Neltharion suppose he shouldn't be so judgemental, since he was lovingly holding someone who themselves used to be.

"For the new mother" a puff of black smoke and through the magic came a neatly folded blanket "enchanted windwool, it will never get dirty" Asch plucks it, examining it with her fingers, smiling "ah thank you" "the pleasure is mine" Neltharion squints "you know father, I quite like this look for you" he makes a gesture toward his ears, tugging his own for show "elves are so beautiful, I can see why you choose her to be queen" Neltharion rolls his eyes "you want something, don't you?" Rarely did his son ever come to him without his own agenda.

Wraithion smirks lightly, laughing even at his fathers statement "admittedly? Yes, don't I always?" There was no use in lying about it, Neltharion was in a good enough mood to hear his sons request. Out of all his children, Wraithion was the least bothersome, he was clever enough to get what he wanted on his own, it was only the third time now he had come seeking his father for something.


"Though it has been my pleasure to be here, I would enjoy staying despite asking for your assistance" Neltharion waves his hand "yes fine, now what is it you want?" For the first time his child hesitates, looking rather nervous "well you see. There is the mortal, a boy" Neltharion knew of his sons tastes in men, did not care. "A very sweet boy I've come to attach myself too... I ask you to grant him the dragon life, not one so powerful as immortal, just... I do not want to see him perish from age" Neltharion blinks, actually bewildered by the request, there is such a spell, a weaker version of what was given to Asch. Still he sat there surprised.

"Who is this boy?" Asch asks, she sounds intrigued by his tale, "his name is Anduin Wrynn, the prince of Stormwind" there is a blush on his sons dark cheeks. "Why in all hells have you toyed around with the Wrynn whelp?!" Neltharion was more confused than anything else, he sounded mad and Asch scowls back at him, already smitten with Wraithion's little sob story. The whelp will get what he wants, if only because Asch would be cross with Neltharion if he didn't allow it. Still, he wants his questions answered.

"I confess it was an accident, hardly my fault. He is rather precious to me" his son was brutally honest, vulnerable even. Neltharion wanted to snap at him for such weakness, but he would be a hypocrite in doing so. "Does he know what you are asking of me? What of his father and their succession line?" Every good parent should challenge their children's decisions, make certain they themselves have run down every avenue of possibility.

"He knows I'm here asking, and he will provide a child we shall raise" it sounds needlessly complex, but he sees no reason to say no "his father knows... something?" Wraithion sounds uncertain "I've left that to Anduin too explain..." he doesn't look all too pleased about that. All his children had an urge to control everything. A hopeless trait gained from their father.


"Mhm... fine boy, you may have your way" Wraithion looks very happy, "I'll make it ready tonight. How long will you stay?" Wraithion thinks for a moment "well. I would like to bring my mate here" Neltharion snorts "he's your mate now?" Asch smacks him "we would love to have him" Wraithion grins "thank you mother" Asch jolts in his lap at this, Neltharion nuzzles her hair "you are technically the mother of my flight" just as Neltharion was father. But this was his child, a direct descendant, it was rather impressive that Wraithion reguarded her as his mother. He never even called his actual birth mother as such.

Perhaps it was a show of graditue, but Wraithion wouldn't do it for something so simple, no, maybe it was genuine show of emotion and love. Wraithion did seem very happy in the moment.

"If it is alright of course, we will stay for the birth of my new sibling" Asch claps her hands, excited herself by the idea "oh I would love that!" Tomorrow they would be off too see her parents in Dalaran, one of the last trips before she was to stay at home. They knew she was coming and were very honoured to host Neltharion. His son would have to amuse himself with something while they were away, by shear colouring in his face, he assumed his mate would be such distraction.


Wraithion left to go retrieve his little mortal as Neltharion helped his mate up "he wasn't as bad as you said" she scolds, Neltharion hums shaking his head "the trouble he liked to cause was more political than destructive. I favour him more then the rest." Asch leans into him, lately it hurt her feet to walk and they swelled easily. Neltharion insisted she allow him to carry her, but Asch wasn't having it.

"Still, he's sweet- although... what did you look like to make him look like that?" Neltharion snorts "a human, his mother was the colouring." Asch hums, considering this "I wonder if the baby will look like me more then you" all his children looked more like him then their mothers, but that was sheer luck, mostly because he had chosen more bazar features such as dark skin or Neltharaku who was mutated beyond himself, but if he remembers correctly, Neltharaku was pale as moon light with brown hair.

"They will be beautiful reguardless" that makes Asch smile "Nel will you calm the baby? They're kicking and I'm tired" Neltharion's favourite duty was to coo at her belly. "Of course."


Morning after Wraithion bid them farewell, waving them off as he stood with the little blonde prince "he's very cute" Asch giggles, looking at the two "who?" Neltharion scrunches his nose "oh look" black dragons were always so possessive. Wraithion had a leeching hold on the poor boy, who looked quite embarrassed by his sons actions.

"Mhm yes, very sweet. Lets go now" Asch giggles at her mate, laughing even as they step into Dalaran. Asch's parents were waiting by the portals. It was evident which pair were hers by the sudden squeaking and excitement "my baby!" Asch seemed to have gotten her beautiful white hair from her father. Her mother had fair, very nice golden blonde.

"Papa!" Neltharion lets her go, watching her mother carefully embrace her daughter, her father however saunters over too him, bowing his head in respect "my king" Neltharion waves him off "Neltharion please" the Elf looks shocked by this, "ah, Neltharion then. I am Cadiea and my wife, Mizpah" Neltharion liked how exotic Elves choose their names to be.

"You look so beautiful" her mother says, examining her belly "when are you due?" She asks "in a few days we think" her mother let out excited squeaks as her father chuckles "Miz loves babies" Neltharion hums, "an exciting time then." Black dragons also adored babes, they were so few and any hatchling that survived was well looked after. It must be why Wraithion was so sweet earlier. Even he liked babies.

Alex and her flight would be excited about it as well, being lifebinders, it was so important to have these mating seasons, especially for black and bronze. Noz and his mate were hopefully carrying, it boosted the flights morale to know their rulers were expecting.

"We are excited to see our child" Cadiea frowns a little in question "it's not a whelp?" Neltharion shakes his head "no, it appears to be an elf. We've yet to see any mutations" Alex said it was growing perfectly, like any normal baby. "Even if it were, a blessing all the same" Asch's people only wanted to serve dragons. Asch was queen, her parents were unimaginably proud.

"Darling?" Neltharion calls, both mother and daughter look up at him "we shouldn't keep you on your feet" Asch's mother coos at him, "he is right you've a little one, come come, let us eat!" Neltharion takes his wife in hand, holding her close as the guards, citizens and all manners of people start to look at the famed earth wanderer and his mate. It was equally exciting for them, a dragon in Dalaran. It was remarkable.

Asch looked very tired once they started moving, leaning heavily on Neltharion for support, even as they sat down. The baby even kicked a few times, aiming perfectly at her ribs and making her sore.

They spent most of the lunch talking about the baby, what Neltharion thoughts were on its potential abilities and maybe even what features it would carry. At the very least the child would have tougher skin and fangs, but it could have a tail, horns or claws. It could even have it all, but it would be loved all the same.

Asch only hoped for a heathy child, it would be will Alex present. That he was sure of.


When it came time to return home Asch bid her parents goodbye with long kisses and promises of having them over to see the baby. Neltharion didn't like that much, seeing as his customs didn't allow for any outsider to see their spawn until it was at least six months, even then that was a stretch. Neltharion would tell Asch about this, hoping she would understand, so far she was fair and agreeable about the customs, even the constant mating, he knew she was very annoyed by that at times, but still indulged him. Which was very sweet of her.

Wraithion and Anduin were playing a silly game his son had brought from another land when they came back. "Ah, hello father, mother" Wraithion bowed his head deeply, fullying acknowledging them, Anduin did the same, slower and more confused but it still passed in proper respect.

"I will see Asch settled then we will see about your potion" Neltharion nudges his head, Wraithion knows immediately to follow, "I will return darling" he saying to the prince, smiling handsomely. Anduin looks like he doesn't know what to do with himself, but nods, eyes bulging wide. Neltharion rolls his eyes. Better he was uncomfortable in his castle then freely roaming about anyway.


Once out of ear shot, Neltharion snorts "he is very naive. But he is pretty- please tell me your infactuation is not so superficial" Wraithion laughs at his father, a cool sound and admittly bubbly. Wraithion was sickeningly happy. "Of course not, he's clever in other ways cunning even" Neltharion knew few things about his son, but what he did was that Wraithion himself was dastardly tactic and ridiculously witty. If his son believes that boy to be cunning then Neltharion believed him.

"Not a fad then?" Asch speaks up, sounding awfully cynical and dare say like Neltharion himself. He smirks at his mate "oh no mother no, I've bitten him. I love him very much" Asch coos, adoring his words "he must be something" his son was frivolous with many things, mates and commitment being one for so long, although it wouldn't be hard to undo the effects of the potion, tedious maybe, but not set in stone.

Neltharion makes Asch comfortable in the pillows, making sure she was well off before turning his attentions to the whelp "I trust you know what I need" Neltharion goes to work, staring the fire for the boiling and grabbing his vials, Wraithion quickly sets off to the shelves, collecting the ingredients for him in record time.

"So mother" Wraithion says, now having nothing to do "what are you hoping for?" Wraithion and Neltharion both knew the child would be a boy, but the earth wanderer do not elect to tell her that.


"Oh I suppose a boy, like all queens" she giggles, head leaning into her hand. Asch looked very comfortable "where's Anduin? He could have sat with me" Neltharion thought it would be a little strange to see his mate curled up with his sons, then again, he never bothered to meet his children's mates. "Amusing himself in our quarters I should think" Wraithion looked a little nervous about that, his father knew all too well how paranoid he must be. Black dragons do not like straying from their mate.


"We're almost done" Neltharion tells him, trying to comfort the whelp. It had been a while since he acted so nurturing, but more and more he remembered how much he actually liked his youngest. "Ah, goodness. I'm glad for that, they're kicking me again Nel" she shifts, making a face. Neltharion actually laughed, his son looked shocked by it "I will fix it soon my love" he just needed to wait for the potion to harden. Neltharion himself found it amusing that the baby would only halt its kicking mess if he was the one to calm it.

"Oh that reminds me- Wraithion" his son glances at his father, intrigued "who is this woman Anduin is suppose to father a child with?" Duty such as heirs was another matter for a dragon, Wraithion grins wildly "me, although we won't be telling his father that" Asch snorts "hmm clever. What if your baby looks like a dragon?" Wraithion shrugs "it won't be the first time there was a dragon in court" ah, he meant his sister. Neltharion rolls his eyes, bottling the potion "there, have him drink the whole thing and watch him. Come to me if he gets sick." Wraithion dismisses himself without so much as a wave in thanks.

"Now let us see about you..."


Asch and Neltharion found it harder and harder to be intimate the bigger she got, but that didn't mean Neltharion didn't try to please her. The access was restricted for the both of them and she didn't like how far he was from her touch. The only way they could both have what desired was if Asch was in her side or in his lap. Asch still didn't like how exposed she was. Neltharion liked the angle and how deep he was inside her on the side.

Plus he got to nip at her knee and make her flustered. They weren't very close like this, but it was very pleasurable however. Asch was loud, louder then she usually was, pregnancy made her very sensitive. Neltharion had to be careful about how rough he was, especially since her chest got sore. Asch came with a loud whine, gushing again his thighs, Neltharion quickened, grunting as he came, pulling out and releasing on the sheets, now that she was pregnant she didn't much like him coming inside. It was a good habit, because of what followed "oh" it was a gasp, then her eyes widened, a slow hiss of pain "Nel-" Asch grunts "baby" Asch's water broke.


"It's alright Asch" he coos, moving off her "let me get you dressed and I will find my sister." The pain didn't hinder them yet, so Neltharion pushed his luck and took her to the birthing room, where the pillows and blankets were arranged like a nest "I will be right back. Our guards are just outside. Call Wraithion if you need someone" the last thing he did was kiss her calmly cheek before hurrying away to his portal Mage.

Chapter Text

Illidan had a hard time keeping up with all the new things. Tyrande was the first women he thought of, then his brother who was still married to her, but also was a sliver away from ruin at the hands of Xavius.

Khadgar wasn't new, he remembered many mages like him.

What he couldn't remember was seeing Asch. Now that was the second women he thought about. That women, the one who said she loved him, let him have his way and after, he never saw her again.


Illidan knew she was alive, didn't know where she was, but from what he heard, she was an Archdruid. Asch wasn't here. She should have been here. "Does... does she know?" Khadgar pities him with a smile "she... left as the crystal broke... flew away to the order hall I assume" Illidan looks over the cliff, staring at the land he could not clearly see.

The demon took to the sky.


Illidan dare not enter the scared ground, but he could see her, hear her. Her magic was stronger. Her hair was long, almost touching the earth, as she walked flowers sprouted. Her staff was massive, vines and branches hung off the living wood. Her crown was tall, made of roots, mud, feathers and flowers.

Illidan remembered her as a fresh faced little girl, barely of age and looking to prove herself. Now she was grown, aged into her maturity. Her markings were white, shaped like leaves, they ran down her face and curled around her arms. Many elves didn't bother with their tattoos after their birthright. Asch was meant to be a healer, born to serve the mother and care for the earth. Illidan could not only see her markings, but her scars too. Lashings, huge welts all along her back made her pale white skin look fowl, the raked discoloured scars. Asch had more, demonic burns that ruined the perfect shaped of her tattoos.

The dress she wore barely covered anything, made of leaves and moss, her shoulderguards were massive, wood carved to look like a bear, bird and cat. Asch was listening to a student, paying close attention to their needs and trailing along with them, pulling that staff with her, making flowers and grass as she went.


Illidan wanted to touch her, smell the no doubt earth and mold that so often stunk up his brother.


Asch felt hallow, unsafe even in her own land. The young Druids asked her to show them her forms, Asch allowed it, seeing no fear in their eyes as they witnessed her change into a massive, certainly epic bear, black as ink and terrific. The students awed and felt her fur, suddenly she felt a chill, squinting her misty eyes, what she saw quaked her very being.

"Illidan."

Her students hadn't heard, Asch was grateful for it. Standing at his impressive height, on a leaning rock, cursing the ground was Stormrage. The half demon that destroyed her. Illidan was watching her, he was smiling at her with a sort of gentle gaze, as much of one he could muster with his smothering eyes.

Turning quickly she scared her students, Cenarius glances at her, worried at the commotion "I'll... I'll be back children" again she turns, taking off in a gust of wind that shook two students off that feet, they laughed, gasping at the sight.


Seeing her, take flight and speed her way too him, it was majestic. Illidan felt his heart tug as she landed, turning into the beautiful women before him. "They said you were there. At the fall" Asch prunes her lips, gripping her staff. It was twice her size. Then again, so was Illidan.
"I was. I left" Illidan scrunched his nose, puzzled by her words "why is that?" Asch leans on her inappropriately large staff "I wasn't needed" Illidan frowns, eyes boring into her behind his veil "that is a lie. Why did you leave?" Asch was never good at lying, not to him anyway.

"I didn't want to see you" Illidan was hurt "why?" He had never attached to someone like he had her, he had Tyrande. Except his brothers wife would never share his love, like Asch would. Asch didn't want to tell him the truth, didn't want to say how hurt she was that he left, how foolish she became when she found him to be imprisoned and still the amount of anger she had, thinking he'd gone off and abandon her. Illidan would know, he always knew if she lied. So Asch steeled herself, looking him dead in the face.


"I thought you left me" Illidan knew how that looked, taking her innocence and vanishing. After all the time they spent together he pined after Tyrande. Illidan always felt bad he couldn't give Asch the love she deserved. He wanted to know, small hope that his window hadn't been slammed shut. "I'm here now" Asch leans away from him glaring "here for who?" That stung him "for you, only you little elf" Asch allowed him to close the gap, gripping her staff, his hand incased it, holding tight as she trembled nervously "do you want me?" It wasn't a lustful question, it was vulnerable, scared even. Asch shutters out a low breath.

Illidan pulls her to his body, "you are all I want" that had been true, Illidan always loved her, when it was put to sleep in his prison she was the last person he thought of before it went dark. Illidan made her let go of her staff, just so he could lay it down at their feet, as he closed the distance, he could smell beautiful flowers and fresh air, no mud or dirt. Asch leans into his touch, letting his clawed hand cradle her back. Asch's hand now twined together with his, gripping tightly, hanging in the air as he finally captures her lips, fondly realizing her time as a Druid changed the taste of her lips, cherrys, apples, peaches. All manner of fruit.

Illidan holds her, hiding her behind his massive wings, shielding them from the eyes of wonderers and nosy Druids. Illidan kisses her deeply, stealing her lips in effort to make up for all he had done, all the time wasted. Asch forced them apart, smacking her lips together, looking dazed "Illidan... it's been a very long time" regretfully it has. He nods, finding no way to disagree "but... but I'd like to pick it back up... from where we left off" Illidan remembers smiling at her and leaving, then never seeing her again.

Asch was naked, peaceful and he decided to leave the bed. Illidan didn't imagine it would be quite where they left off, but to get back to to that bliss, the giggling, happy mating they shared, the bite that made his mark. Illidan would like that back. "As would I, little elf" Asch was smiling, peaking around at his form, it occurred to him she may have never seen it up close, that this might be one of few times she's seen him like this. It was nice not to be met with disgust or fear.

"You can touch, you always could" that made her sputter, even thousand of years apart didn't seem to quill her shyness, Illidan adored that. Still, she embraces his words, touching the leathery wing hiding them away from the world, caressing it with her warm finger pads, going along a grove pattern. Illidan felt oddly like an animal being pet, but found it to be pleasant instead of demeaning. Asch had a wonderful look of curiosity as she trailed over his tattoos and brands, finally touching his face and the soft linen cloth that covered his eyes.

Asch poked it upward, peaking at his bare burnt eyes, if it wasn't for the shade of his wings it would have hurt terribly, but like all Druids her magic wasn't overbearing and Illidan could look upon her without a veil, it brightens, but did not hurt him. "Ah, so pretty" she muses, blinking at his eyes, uncovering them fully. Illidan chuckles lowly, never had his eyes been considered pretty before "not as pretty as you, little elf" Illidan strokes a hand through her hair, accidentally weeding out hidden flowers and petals, Asch giggles as he stops, looking bashful "I can't seem to get them to stop" she says, pulling out a daisy "it just... happens now" a few more full flowers come tumbling out of her hair, petals and stems along with it. Illidan snorts, watching it puddle around their feet, flowers and grass over growing below.

"Mhm seems we've a meadow" Asch bends, looking at her hidden feet and all the overgrowth, laughing brightly as it winds around Illidan, almost consuming his hooves "so..." she says, looking back at him, "where is home?" Illidan didn't know how to answer, he didn't have a home, not one he knew of. Illidan figured he would stay on the broken shore, sleeping with the soldiers, "there isn't one" Illidan knew what she was leading up too, but he wanted her to say it. Asch nervously picks at the flowers seemingly coming out of thin air, pulling some free before responding "well... we said we'd pick up... I have a home- in the dreamgrove... if you want to come live there... oh unless that's too much" Illidan stops her with a peck on the cheek, "if you aren't mad at me anymore?" Asch shakes her head, gripping his hand tightly.


"I'll be happy too, show me the way."

 

Druids turned out to be very interested in the demon hunter taking residence with their Archdruid, some were weary of him, others fine with his presence. A few however, did not like him at all and thought he was a omen and a plight upon the grove. Cenerius was one of those few. When Illidan appeared Asch was pulled aside and spoken too, Illidan was left to stand there and gather dust. By the end they both came back, huffing and Asch pulled him along to her home.

It was modest, the door was always open and the bed was big enough for three. Her kitchen held lots of dry goods. It occurred to Illidan that he had never seen his brothers home, where he and his sister lived. "Well this is it" her massive staff was put to the side, gathering vines and flowers, making the house smell even more lovely. "I like it very much" his horns got stuck in some hanging vines, but they managed and if that was to be his worst problem, Illidan could live with it.

It was far better then going to his demon hunters and their hovel, he already had to check on them often enough he considered himself their babysitter, sleeping there would be horrid. At least here he could smell flowers and hold the beautiful women who made them. It wasn't hard to notice the flowers changed depending on her moods. When she was angry marigolds fell from her hair, those flowers represented grief and jealously. Now little petals from roses swayed to the ground, sprouting through the wood even.

Illidan knew what that meant and smirked.

Asch felt a little cornered as Illidan closed the gap, "I have missed you very much" he coos, pulling her against him "I've missed you too" Illidan's wings fluttered out, hiding them from the open door, but the problem with an open door was...

That it was an open door.

"Asch?!" Illidan knew that voice, hated the sound of it. Illidan's wings twitched harshly, flapping in the confined space before he nestled them, turning as Asch looked away, still in his arms "Mal!" Malfurion. The other Stormrage brother, standing there with his twig horns and chicken wings. On his arm, stood Tyrande. Illidan didn't even jolt at her pressence, didn't even give her the satisfaction of acknowledging her.

Asch rested heavily on him, actually happy how indifferent he felt toward the two. "I had heard my brother would be here... but" Mal began, staring at the two in their compromising position, staring at all the roses and coriander sprouting. Coriander meant lust. Mal frowns lightly "good surprise as any too see you Mal" Asch says kindly "yes quite the surprise" Tyrande sounded disgusted, she always did sound disgusted when it came to Illidan. It was evident for a long time she hated the very sight of him. Illidan figured she was repulsed by his form, it would be logical, but it hurt a little to think she did. After all they had been family for so long, now by marriage.

Illidan kept Asch against him, angered by their equally shared disgust. "It shouldn't be" he hisses "it has been thousands of years since I've seen my mate" Asch tenses at the use of the word, but it appeared as though she liked it very much, considering just how many flowers were spurting up from the woodwork. Tyrande and Mal also flintch at the word, showing their obvious disapproval.

"Yes well... we've some things to discuss with you Asch" Malfurion grunts, shifting his feet "o-oh I... I didn't know" Illidan snaps finally, showing his growing annoyance "it's of no importance. It can be done later, now leave us. I was busy." The two other elves don't know what to say to that, but Illidan makes it very clear he was going to continue whether they were gawking or not.

Asch yelps as she's picked up in his arms, she can't see the two others because of Illidan's wing but she knows they were standing there, baffled. Like she was...


Illidan closes the upstairs door, still able to hear the pair below, he doesn't allow that to bother him. Asch seems confused and a little more then embarrassed but the whole thing.


"Well pretty elf. How much have you missed me?" Very much he knew, but he wanted her to say it. "I... Illidan" she didn't say it, but Asch grabs him, pulling him into an embrace, hiding herself in his neck. Illidan fumbles for purchase, even more stuck with affection with the little elf beneath him.

"Don't go again" that was enough to actually upset him "no no, of course not. Never again Asch" he kisses the expose part of her collarbone, assuring her with all the love he could.

Finally after much prodding and even a little begging, Illidan gets to strip off the mossy little dress, finally seeing her again after so long. Asch however had many new things to discover about him. It was interesting and a relief at the same time, realizing that she was only curious about his now harsh leather skin and even excited to touch him.

Asch even reached up and touched his horns again, appreciating the rock hard shape, whispering how beautiful they actually were. Illidan laughed at her of course "more of a hindrance" Asch gave him a funny look, smirking he looks between her spread legs "it'll be much harder to pleasure you with my tongue then it used to be" actually it would be near impossible. Asch couldn't speard her legs that far apart and no matter how hard he could attempt, Illidan wouldn't be able too do it.

Asch chokes a little at his words, blooming with embarrassment, Illidan however thinks of a better way "you... you don't have too!" She all but yells, Illidan thought it was cute, "I do little elf" he taps his fingers along her leg "you wouldn't want these inside of you" his nails were sharp as knives, Illidan was careful, but he wasn't about to risk that and he believed in making his partners peak more times then himself. That would be hard to do if he couldn't prepare her properly.

"Ah" he proclaims "I have an idea" Asch tilts her head, blinking at him, this he had learnt a long time ago "it might be a little bold for you pretty elf" Asch welcomed challenge when she was a student, no matter the embarrassment. Illidan leans on his elbow, marking cockily as he taps his mouth "sit" it took her a long moment before she realized what that actually meant. Her face, neck and breasts all coloured a deep pink, still he challenged her and Asch didn't back down "h-how..?" Her voice was a little soft, afraid but Illidan continues.


Laying down on his back he beckons her with a finger, smirking as she trailed up his body, letting him feel everything. Illidan missed the heady scent of her cunt, the little lips and and the soft tufts of hair. She still smelt like he remembered, but it had a more earthy tone to it, Illidan didn't mind "now sit, grab my horns" he could feel the shake in her hands as she grabbed them. Asch lowered herself right onto his waiting tongue and gasped when he grabbed her, making her stay put. It was a onslaught. Asch wails in pleasure, gripping tightly. Illidan made her rock against his mouth, fuck herself into his tongue as he sucked and licked away the juices. Her legs caged and tightened around his head, it didn't bother him.

Illidan had the best view, her back was arched, her fingers pressed into his horns, the very shake of her thighs turned him on "Illidan- oh..." she calls, squeezing his head, Illidan hums into her, smirking as she quaked.
"Illidan! Oh Illidan!" Asch tried to arch away, tried to move, but he kept her, drinking her gushing pleasure. This still tastes the same. His fingers left marks, deathly harsh ones that Asch didn't even seem to notice as she slumps, Illidan carefully slides her to sit in his lap, he himself sits up, smiling pleasantly while licking his lips like a pleased cat.

"I think someone heard" he chuckles, although, by the half in a few steps he heard outside no doubt someone heard. Asch didn't look pleased by that. "Clam pretty elf, I won't quit until all the grove can hear you" he got smacked for that. It was worth it though.

"Up, on your knees" he says, hooking his thumbs under his pants Asch scratches his abs peaking, trying to hide the fact, Illidan chuckles at her "go on and look, hold it if you like" Asch grunts, glaring at him "not funny" Illidan shrugs "I wasn't trying to be" Illidan kisses her head, kicking his pants off.

Illidan brushes the soft pads of his fingers against her cunt, mushing the wetness. Illidan pumps himself once, lining the tip against her hole "ease down" Illidan wanted it to go at her pace. Nothing about his cock changed, Asch easily took it. She was tight around him, Illidan basked in it.

Illidan went slow, holding her, listening to her moan and whine. They spend hours like this, Illidan was relentless, he didn't let up until she was sobbing in the sheets. Her thighs were wet and he was drenched "Illida... hah" her voice was barely above a whisper. The demon purrs, cock swollen and neglected. His hand pets her flat belly "do you want me to fill you?" Asch weakly nods, quaking.


Illidan came without much prompt, shoving his cock deep within her, shivering as her count milked his aching cock.

He collapses, resting comfortably atop her while she fell asleep, dozing quietly.

Chapter Text

Rare too see a male warden, rarer still to be accepted into the ranks.

Doverius stands watch, keeping a keen eye on the doors and people. Dove was suppose to be having fun, celebrate with like comrades, drink until he went black and woke up forgetting all of the party. Dove couldn't, it was safe here, he knew this, but even among so many skilled fighters, he was still on edge.


They were celebrating their graduation, the advanced class, Dove was first in his class of twenty. The advanced class was an elite few of students that were skilled enough to take on higher threats, rather then protect and wage war on the Isle.

"Relax little bird" Dove turns to see his teacher, Aveila Coreweaver "no threat in sight, you should be overjoyed! Passing your studies as top student is no easy feet" Dove tisks, shaking his head. "Still work to be done" Aveila laughs at him, clapping his shoulder "tomorrow, yes. So eager to get your assignment?" Dove was, he desperately wanted to work the legion front of the broken isle, "demons pollute our shores, I want to be rid of them" Aveila nods, growing softer "I know child, you will have your wish, please just for now, be still. In the moment, you'll be grateful for it." Dove relents, sighing opening "alright, I shall" she forces a cup of wine into his hands and clinks her own glass against it. Dove have no choice but to drink.


The morning came with fog and more unsettling stench, blood and fel fire, it disgusted Dove to no end just how tainted their own isle was. Yet he stood, full armour but of his helmet. The slight wind rustled his high tail, whacking it into his cheek. Dove jerked his head, making it swing away, today they would have his orders. Today he could finally be of use.

They were broken up into teams of five for sorting, their class would all be working alone, Dove was placed with team three, the last to recieve order. Dove listened and envied some of the other students, few were selected to head to the broken shore, assist the commanding officer where needed, others were sent to warden garrisons around the isle. Once they finally got to him, Dove was twitching in anticipation.

"Doverius Granderlight!" Dove sets to the other warden, standing straight as an arrow "too the shore, present yourself to Stormrage and fall under his command!" Dove recoils in shock, Illidan Stormrage? That fowl demon? "You cannot be serious?!" The commander reguards him, Dove cannot tell how she's receives him, "Yes. Maiev Shadowsong requested you personally" this gave him pause. Maiev? Did she really? Obviously the commander wouldn't lie.

"Why am I to work under the demon?!" He tries to sound less outraged, the commander hisses at him, "go and ask her for yourself" she swats at him, already moving on. Illidan. Dove scowls openly, trudging back to his quarters.


The journey was short and Dove only grew more annoyed as his saber, Dauntless takes him closer to Illidan. He already saw too many demon hunters around the shore, it only worsened when he came to the camps. It was absolutely full of of them. Illidan was standing just off side of Maiev, engaging the famous human Mage, Khadgar.

The Warden turns, reguarding Doveas he came to a halt, few feet in front of them "Granderlight" Maiev's tone was clipped, official. Dove nods her way as he approaches, watching the demon lord with harsh eyes. "Is this the boy you promised?" His voice was deep, ugly and raspy. Maiev nods curtly, "yes, the top of our andvanced class" Illidan actually turns, finally making an effort to look at him.

"Hmph" he snorts, smirking lightly "is it a requirement to have white hair?" Dove glares, unmoving as Maiev sighs loudly behind her helmet "enough. It was you who requested him."

Illidan smiles around his sharp teeth, finding her amusing "he's little. Can he do all you claim?" Dove felt insulted, of course he could. This idiot demon was too slack with his tongue. Maiev barely responds, waving him off like a branch. "Granderlight, have they told you your assignment?" Dove bows to his leader "no my lady" Illidan laughs again "polite, are you sure he is one of yours" Maiev snarls, swinging her moon blade at him. Illidan dodges it effortlessly.

"Enough you fool! Explain his task before I cut your throat!" Illidan doesn't look intimidated by her words "well then, little warden. Your duty will be to me" Dove juts his jaw out angrily, "I'll have you work alongside my best hunter and do what is needed" Maiev doesn't protest this, doesn't even seem to care anymore.


"I won't be some errand boy, you filthy animal!" Dove snaps, baring teeth and fangs. Illidan only grins wider "but you are, no go, fetch your new keeper, he will have your duties" Dove looks to Maiev, as if she was going to speak against the demon for him.

"What are you waiting for?" She says, hissing at him. Dove flintches straight, begrudgingly hissing "yes my lady..."


Dove fumes, pulling Dauntless along, the cat groans at him, pawing at his master, annoyed by the tugging. Dove lets up a little, still forcing him by the collar. "Unbelievable!" He hisses to the cat, "demon hunter scum!" Dove finds the perch where all the hunters are gathered in little packs, they all look at him.

Dove dos not care to discern the nature of their looks, "Illidan sent for me!" He shouts, angry he was not given a name "where's the hunter he pledged?" Dove looks at them all, watching to see if one of them move. Many look at him curiously, some with nodded eyes and tiny smirks, then he's jolted by a firm hand grabbing his shoulder.

Dove whips around, smacking the hand off him, aiming his moon blade toward the offender, the demon hunter behind him looks amused as it's poised to cut his throat "you called for me, pet?" Dove growls, jutting the blade, nicking his skin "I am no pet, demon scum" the hunters around him tense angrily, baring their sharp teeth, the one before him grins just as insufferably as Illidan had.

The hunter was light skinned, his horns were large, curled up in a half circle, a lot like Illidan's own. The tattoos were jagged and messy, mirrored perfectly on each side of his body. Lastly, his eyes were uncovered, raising like flames and looking at Dove with utter amusement and mocking.

"Ferris, little elf" Dove scrunches his nose, why had people suddenly begun to call him little? Shaking his head he dug the blade in, wetting the steak with demon blood. Ferris sighs "come, I've work to do" Ferris turns from the blade, the Warden doesn't move it until he's lagging behind, snarling at him.

"You're a man aren't you?" It was rude to ask, but Ferris was still bleeding into himself, "yes" his tone was scandalized, Ferris pushes harder "why do you act like such a women then?" The Warden was feminine looking, pleasing to the eye. His hair was silky looking, shiny when it caught the right light. His face was pleasing to look at, sloped in just the right way that it made his whole demeanour soft, not to mention the two messy tattoos over his eyes, shaped like deformed claws. If ferris last remembered, those were only reserved for women.

As if the warden knew he was looking, he self-consciously touches one of the markings, then quickly masks his concern with a fowl lip curl "shut your mouth animal!" Ferris rolls his eyes, still reguarding the Warden over his shoulder. Interesting, too say the very least.

"Here" Ferris stops, "this is our camp. Tomorrow we scout and gather intel" Ferris was glad for the help, Illidan promised hm assistance, but never thought it would come in the shape of a warden. They loathed his kind, but assuming Illidan knew what he was doing, Ferris did not question the motives of his leader.

The camp was nicer then Dive expected, the tents were sizeable and neat looking. Even inside was quite tidy and spacious "your side" the claw of his hand points to a fluffed looking pad. There was still day light out, but Dove found he was too tired for much else, so he unpack the little he brought. Idly watching the hunter pick at his nails and play other cloth.

Ferris was rude, this he knew, so staring or gawking wasn't a big deal to him. He couldn't figure the elf before him out. What made him so impressive? Illidan knows somehow, but lacked in sharing the details with Ferris.

Doverius. The name is toyed with in his mind, he was most unimpressive, skinny little arms and thin torso, the only thing he had going for him was that sharp tongue and bad attitude.

Dove yawns, a tear running out of his eye floods down the messy, ugly markings. This makes Ferris perk, no make up trail... they were real? Watching Dove wipe his cheek roughly confirmed it. "Y'know, we're part of the same people" Ferris begins, now pointing at his own cheek "how'd you come to get those?" Doverius wasn't suppose to have those, they both knew that. Even as their people became more lenient on what women and men could study, it was still explicitly forbidden for men to bare the markings.

Dove turns his face away, glaring hotly "none of your concern!" Ferris rolls his eyes, watching the elf turn away and hide under the sheets. Ferris never knew anyone to be so sensitive.

Dove scratches at his cheeks, clawing at the stained marking. Angry that the stupid hunter had asked.


The morning brought Ferris a even more pissy Dove. Ferris flexed his wings, shaking them loose and shivering as the bones cracked just right. Dove appears disgusted by this. It was going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

Dove shoves the demon hunter again the wall, kissing him fiercely, angrily. The pit of rage only stirs as the hunter grabs him, handling him like a toy "watch my wings!" The two leatherly extensions flap, ruffled. Dove hisses, pushing him again "stop complaining and kiss me" Ferris growls in his mouth, giving exactly what he wants. Shoving his tongue down Dove's throat without warning as he turns Dove into the wall, smacking his taught back into the slab. Ferris smirks alittke as the huff of noise coming out of the little elf.


They break off and Dove inhales, flushed angry red "I hate you, you fowl demon" his words have no malice behind them, "where do you want to be fucked?" The elf is rattled by his words, clearing the goal as the smirk widens "don't be disgusting!" Dove snaps at him, shoving his shoulders. The demon rolls his eyes, gripping his taught ass, hoisting him up "against the wall or on the bed?" A thick brow raised, Dove's eyes dart away, a horrible blush corrupts his cheeks be neck "the bed..." Ferris tilts his head, pretending not to hear him.

"Sorry? Where did you want to be fucked?" The elf jolts uncomfortably again, scowlin hatefully "the bed! You fo-" his insult cut off by a loud howl, ferris tosses him, making him land roughly on the plush bed "god I hate you!" Dove flies up, hair a mess, clutching the sheet with burning malious. Ferris barks out a laugh, ignoring the scorn as he climbs over the elf.


Dove lets the demon push him down, snarling out a moan Ferris attacks his neck, "no marks you idiot!" Ferris doesn't listen to him, in fact only spurred to disobey.


Ferris wiggles the uncooperative elf out of his clothing, halting his advances to look at the naked warden, what he sees makes him snort, "what a cute cock you have" Ferdis mocks, now completely interested in the small and shapely dick "it's so tiny" he coos, watching it ooze fluid. Dove squeaks loudly as Ferris grips it, thumb toying with the pink head "no wonder everyone thinks your a women, you've got no cock" it was a pretty thing, no bigger then his pinky, it had to be less then four inches. Dove knees him, growling angrily "shut up!" He sounds hurt, the blush of shame covering over the one of pleasure.

Ferris leans over, licking the precome from the tiny slit, feeling a little bad he hit a sore spot "nothing wrong, I like it" Dove hisses out a reluctant moan as Ferris mouths the tip, clutching the pillows.

"What have you fucked with it, hmm?" Ferris decides a little more teasing couldn't hurt. "A girl certainly wouldn't feel it" Ferris licks up the underside of his shaft, relishing in the shiver he gets "your hand? A pillow? What elf?" His lips twitch, Adam's apple bobbing, Ferris' hand engulfs the little cock, jerking it slowly, returning to his job along Dove's collarbone.

Dove moans pathetically, humping into the heat of his hand "c'mon tell me" the hunter says between bites. Dove can't shake the embarrassment he feels, the utter shame made his cock pulse "a-a pil... pillow!" Dove sounds like a women, Ferris purrs, imagining how delightful it would look to see the little elf fuck himself into a pillow and come. He might just have to try and make him. His face would look so precious, flushed. Mouth hanging open as his pretty ass juts into the warm pillow folded between his legs.

Ferris wants to stick his fingers inside his tight hole, watch Dove's as he losses himself, whining out like a girl as he finishes between the folds.

Ferris squeezes Dove's balls, palming them between his fingers, watching the elf burst out in pleasure. "Ferr..." he pants, clawing at his forearms. Dove looks beautiful like this, no scowl to sully his pretty face.


Ferris shimmies out of his pants, cock boucing from its confinement, he purposely shoves it into Dove's, making the elf flinch in confusion "this is a real cock" Ferris smirks, gabbing himself, poking it into the plump sac, Dove looks away, fuming lightly "it isn't that little!" Ferris laughs at him "yes it is, it's cute and perfect- like you" Ferris nuzzles his cheek into Dove's, it doesn't gain him much favour but the elf does respond to him.

Ferris could feel his cock jump as he clutched it again, holding his own cock tight against it, stroking until Dove's is a panting mess. "Up" Ferris commands, pulling away. Dove groans, upset and wiggles, trying to find friction again.

"In my lap" he beacons, Dove climbs into his thighs, the little cock poking Ferris in the abs "shouldn't I..." his eyes dart between their bodies, Ferris chuckles warmly "as much as I'd like to stuff my cock down your throat- I have other plans" Ferris likes how few dirty words can make Dove so embarrassed, it makes it all the more enjoyable for the demon.

"Suck" the demon trimmed his nails for this, Dove scowls at the blunted black nails, Ferris shrugs, pokin at his mouth. Dove allows them entry, knowing what Ferris had in mind. The demon watching, leaving against the headboard as Dove works his tongue lewdly around the digits. Maybe he should get the wardens mouth on his cock...

"Good" they leave his mouth with a wet pop, ferris grabs his cock again, shocking the elf once more "stop that!" He weakly protests, "hmm" Ferris purrs, doping his fingers between his cheeks. "Relax" the puckered hole is already resisting, the elf looks uncomfortable, leaning away from the prob, still Ferris' fingers follow, pressing and swirlin against the holes restriction.

Dove's jaw tights, his whole body shivering as the thick fingers play with his hole "breathe" Ferris whispers, pushing one in, despite the resistance. Dove yelps, mouth hanging open, jaw quaking. Ferris jerks his cock again, listening to the low grown escape his hanging jaw.

Slowly he works the hole loose, letting the elf wiggle uncomfortable, watching in amusement as he only thrusts Ferris's finger deeper into him. "Ahh... hah Ferr" weak little whimpers rise up from his chest, heaving as he tries to get away from the ridged finger.

Ferris watches the elf fuck himself onto the finger and his hand, confusingly switching between the two, unsure of what he's doing. Ferris quickly lifts his other finger, pairing it next to the first and enjoys the surprised moan that escapes Dove as he takes it alongside the other.

Ferris takes control, fucking him with different speeds. Dove can't handle it, his hips jut and sputter into his hands, whining out like a bitch in heat. Ferris presses his fingers just right, the elf cries out, coming into the palm of his hand. Dove watches, exhausted as Ferris licks the dribble off his hand.


"You taste sweet" Dove colours, glaring at him "hush!" Ferris squeezes his ass, "mhm, ow do you want it? On your back or knees?" Ferris plays with the limp cock, distracting Dove as he tries to answer "uh... um- ah..." to grows hard with each stroke of his hand, "which way little elf" Ferris purrs, fidgeting slightly "oh... on- on my knees" Ferris is gentle this time, carefully turning him into his belly, positioning his hips high enough that it allowed access for him and comfort for Dove.

"Spread your legs" he coos softly against the elfs ear, nipping it lightly. Dove does as told, presenting his ass like a heating animal. "Hmm good boy" Dove shoots him a look of displeasure, buts its cut and contorted as Ferris presses his cock into the pucker. Dovehides his face, heaving harshly as the tip pops into his ass, making him quake and now in a deep bend.


The slope of his spine looks graceful as Ferris watches his cock slip inside the taught ass, his hands rub the cheeks, mushing them as he bottoms out, balls resting against Dove's. "alright?" Ferris whispers into his ear, petting his soft thighs. "Mhm..." he looks dazed, eyes heavy.


When Ferris moves his hips, that awakens Dove, eye bulging and clutching the sheets "oh..." the noise draws out, just as Ferris does, leaving the tip inside before pushing forward, getting him used to the intrusion. Although, Dove looks consumed by it, mouth hanging open, drooling a little. Ferris smirks, shoving his cock, getting him to yelp.


Ferris holds his thighs, fucking him deep, rolling his hips so Dove feels the whole thing. Dove stretches, fingers twitching, clipped moans and groans escaping his raw throat. Dove's probably been heard by a dozen people, but he can't seem to care as Ferris hits the prefect spot.

Dove's ass is fluttering around him, the little elf bends into his cock, taking it like he owns it. Ferris can only position his hips, punching his cock into the right heat at it engulfs him. Dove gasps loudly when Ferris grabs his cock, jerking it in time with his thrusts.


Dove doesn't last long like this, growling out Ferris' name, forcing him deep inside as his ass flexes around the stif cock. Ferris huffs, allowing himself to let go, releasing with a low snarl, easing slowly forward onto Dove.

When Dove regains his breath he says "get off" Ferris grunts, turning and carrying Dove into his chest, barely awake now.


Dove hisses at him, rolling his eyes before allowing them to close and fade into sleep.

Chapter Text

This time Asch was the one to get up and walk away, looking back at Illidan sleeping quietly among the flowers made Asch smile, and feel pain as she left to face Malfurion and his wife. It seemed the two were not fooling when they demanded to see her yesterday.

So with a reluctant heart she shuffled away. What she expected was a simple chat, but as she climbed the little hill ash begun to see more then a few heads.

"Asch, finally I had that you would be overlong" Cenarius chirps pleasantly enough "good morning everyone" Asch politely bows, even though her annoyance only grows at the fact she was about to be ganged up on. "We've come to speak of my brothers return" as Asch deduced. "What of it?" As of right now he wasn't causing any trouble, well for everyone but her. Tyrande seemed fixated on the blooming bites all over her upper body. The demon was anything but subtle. Then again, that might have been the point.

That also caused annoyance. Again Illidan whether knowing or not, made Asch his pawn to make Tyrande jealous, from the look on her face it was working and served to irritate Asch more. They would be having a talk about this, Asch would not come second to this elf, not again. Not after all that has happened. Asch had growing faith, he came to her, promised never to leave again, too her. Asch hope it would be alright.

"It's not... healthy for him to be living here, in the grove" ah, straight to the point. Asch assumed they would beat around the subject a little before securing her. "Who is he harming? He's been here all but a day. What trouble has he caused?" Mal frowns a little, having no answer "if it too bold, you don't want him here because of me, isn't it?" Tyrande narrows her eyes "that is too bold."


Asch listens to her hiss the word, looking cross as ever. "True nonetheless, yes?" Mal nods, confirming her assumption "he has done nothing to me we have not fixed already. If you loved your brother you'd wish him to be happy. I'd like to think I make him happy- if you want to pretend you don't want him here, then fine I will move outside of the grove." Cenarius waves his massive hands "this is not why I asked this meeting- or rather why you did Malfurion. I only wished to know if you believe Illidan has come to help in the war." Asch gave pause for thought, wondering herself why Illidan was going to do.

Reguardless, she nodded "I think he is an ally-" "he is named betrayer for good reason" it shocked Asch to hear Tyrande hiss those words, even Mal stares at her outburst "is that it? Is that why you hate him so? For all he did- he did it for the world, he did not see his wrong then. But he does now. I will not stand here for this- if you anything else of relevant I will hear it at my home... good day!" Asch becomes a bird and flies away before anything else is said.


Asch isn't nice about her landing, or conscious about how loud she is as she stomps up the stairs, intent to seek her sleeping mate.

Ash finds him just as she left, sleeping spread out on the sheets, occupying most of the space, she doesn't care however, jumping on him in a huff, growling loudly. Illidan awakes slowly, burly from sleep, but paws her, tugging her against his stomach, letting her curl into him as he lays there "darling...?" He was so sweet, Asch leans over, groaning into the roof "As usual, Tyrande and Malfurion have spoiled my mood" after his departure Mal and Tyrande were insufferable, always clouding her as if she needed babysitting from her woes. As if she was a little heartbroken girl.

"Tell me?" He was still shaking sleep away, but Asch appreciated his attempted attentiveness "they believe you have malicious intent and for some reason do not like you being with me..." Illidan sighs heavily, scraping his claws over his eyes, pintchin his broad, angled nose "I see" he mutters, sitting up and bringing Asch into his lap, stroking her sides "Mal is being cautious and Tyrande is being... jealous" this was something she had always done, even though she wasn't interested, Tyrande very much detested woman around Illidan, as if she wanted him to dangle upon her finger, forever at her beck and call.

Asch growls at that, very annoyed, possessively pawing at his neck, pulling his face toward her until she could kiss his lips, still dry from sleep "well she can have you no longer" Illidan smirks, perhaps it was because he saw Asch clearly for the first time, without the veil of Tyrande blocking his view, but he liked how protective and jealous she was. Little brown, wilted flowers, petals and all manner of dead plants fell from her hair, upsetting Illidan as he picked a wilting daisy from the bed sheets.

"I do not want her anymore, darling" he pulls the flower into view, carefully twirling the delicate dead flower, Asch frowns, hand coming to touch it, before his very eyes the flower becomes whole, new and fresh "I believe you" she tells him, stroking the petal "I will speak to them, see if I cannot remedy this" Asch sighs in defeat, pushing herself to rest again this wide chest, hugging him tightly as he fits the flower behind her ear "darling?" Asch hums, making him grin "I love you."

Asch bends away to look up at him, frown lifted from her beautiful face "I love you too."


The days went without incident, Illidan quickly made base on the shore, making sure he was in the grove little as possible, Asch said he was no trouble, but he didn't wish to cause her any grief, so he busied himself, Asch accompanied him, insisting to help the soldiers as they left and came, it was sweet of her, watching over those she didn't have too. During nights they sometimes went home, others they stayed in private quarters built for the Archdruid, as a gift of thanks. Illidan scoffed the day they presented it too her. Asch was eternally grateful, but Illidan knew the idea behind it was a little sour. The walls echoed, the men's barracks were close, a claim they dismissed as safety, but they were really interested in the Archdruids moans.

Illidan refused to provide the satisfaction, of course he never dared to tell her what he knew of the quarters, but he would not allow mating, easily brushing off her advancing my stating he wished only to have her at their home in the grove. It was no better there, but at least most Elves, Trolls and Tauren respected the privacy of mating and turned their ears away. Unlike filthy humans and the like who were more interested in hearing the great betrayer mount his lifemate.

It was a private matter that wasn't to be a sceptical. It was bonding, a heavy connection that Illidan would safeguard. Asch was just eager to experience him again, they both in equal parts missed the time before his banishment, the time where they laid out for hours, touching everything they could reach, exhausting each other to the point of endless sleep.


Asch was bold sometimes, she would whisper filthy ideas into his ear, embarrassing herself, Illidan liked that, encouraged her even. Asch would be flustered after, Illidan would smirk, ego ridden. Flouncing, she called it.

Asch was on him today, hugging him as people coo, rubbing her cheek into his when he allowed the distraction, purring lightly if she got her way. Displaying like his insufferable sibling did with Tyrande, Illidan never thought he would have envy of people this way. Yet here it was, everyone adored watching the two, Asch would sit with him, curl around his arm or into his side is he lifted his arm to let her.

Khadgar laughed about it, claiming they were too old for such young love. Illidan sometimes even indulged her, kissing her forehead, making her squeak happily, flowers falling in a pool. Even now, as they simply sat together looking at battle plans, flowers river down her hair, clumping in a pile around the bench, Illidan got mad at anyone passing by who stepped on them, even barking at them in warning. Safe to say after the second person unfortunately stomped on them the rest gave the war table a wide birth.


Illidan idly plucks some, pulling little flowers out of her hair and tossing them, Asch didn't seem to notice as she reads, eyes flying over the pages of her book with interest. It was a book of theory, the arts of healing and rejuvenation, hardly his interest, but Illidan peaked every few pages she passed, reading a few choice sentences. Most of what he saw was about meditation and wellness. The cast and spells, the effort just to heal another, it was arduous. Far more then Illidan could bother with. Though, it was interesting too see an Archdruid in practice. The skill was evident by the sheer volume of flowers just casually flowing from her hair.


Illidan overheard the Druids speaking of it, whispering how marvellous it was. Illidan had learnt that it was very difficult for Druids to grow things, even in soils, it was incredibly impressive apparently and almost impossible for Druids to create them as Asch did. Illidan now knew where and why the flowers came, and was still baffled. Although, it was overly amusing to him that they mirrored her moods. Illidan spent the time researching every flowers meaning, wanting to always be on the same page. It helped quite a bit, Asch found him in midst of research and when he told her what he was doing she jumped him, a mix between lustful, happy and thankful. That made for an interesting set of flowers.


Now just bucket loads of many flowers dropped from her hair, Illidan sighs lightly, bored with the proceedings. They weren't the object of interest so Illidan looks at Asch, pushing a steam between the crease in her pages, Asch jolts up, blinking at him "we are not needed here much longer, would you like to go home?" They wouldn't be needed for a few days in fact, Asch looks around them, as if checking to see if it was okay they leave. As if Illidan needed permission to leave.


"Okay" Illidan wastes no time plucking her, pulling her up to his chest, people halt their duties watching as he cradles the Archdruid, flapping his wings to test the space. A few feet forward and he was launching into the air, a gust of wind shaking up dust and dirt.

Asch always hid her face in his neck at the take off, his style of flying much faster and harsher then her own.

It didn't take long at the spoed he was going to get home, passing Suramar in a blink of an eye. Illidan helps Asch too her feet, holding her waist as she wobbled, pressing hard on his arm to steady herself "you always do that" she scolds, pushing up on steadier legs. Illidan chuckles, "I'm sorry my darling" Asch gives him a look, squinting her eyes as she smiled at him "you are not!"

"No, no I'm not..."


Illidan liked sleeping on his back, Asch layer out on her stomach as his wings folded over like a second blanket, shielding her from view and putting his possessive demon side at bay, constantly telling him to protect his mate. Asch loved it, she never could sleep properly unless in complete dark, his wings provided that.

Illidan pets her back, listening to her soft snores, smiling contently.

Just as he felt himself drift off, there was a knock on the wooden door downstairs, Illidan finally got her to start closing it, since one mishap with a student coming upstairs, luckily Illidan heard him, closed his wings around Asch and watched the embarrassed stumble as he saw them, frantically ran out and screamed his apologies.

Asch squirmed with a sigh, but made no indication it woke her, again the person knocked, harder and louder, Illidan became annoyed, worried it would wake Asch. Illidan hisses low, easing Asch off him onto the bed, she did not notice and curled in the covers, Illidan looked at her once more before quietly escaping down the sodden staircase.

Illidan could not see who was at the door and angrily jerked it open, making sure it didn't bang against the wall in his fury, there before him stood Malfurion, Illidan's mood went black "what?!" The demon snaps, baring teeth. Mal narrows his eyes, shaking dust off his wings "I wanted to talk to you" Illidan sensed bad, but knowing his brother, Mal would not go away.

"Be quiet then. She's sleeping" Illidan jerked to the side, letting Malfurion enter, watching as he ducked under hanging vines, standing now in the kitchen "what do you want?" Illidan assumed this had something to do with the conversation from before with Asch, that he'd have to prove to his brother he wasn't malicious, as usual.

"I wanted to see if all was well" Illidan narrows his eyes, it wasn't too late for his brother to come on a simple visit, it was still early in the evening, but Asch and Illidan had gotten up very early this morning.

"It is. Now what do you want?" Mal sighs exasperatedly, rolling his head slightly along with his eyes. "Truly Illidan, I've given some thought to Asch's earlier words. If she trusts you then I will as well" this made Illidan pause, lean away as if cautious of a beast "have you now... why so generous?" Malfurion has always been unforgiving, Asch's words of praise could not have swayed him so easily.

"In truth? You are my brother and... Tyrande was rather unfair to Asch" Illidan squints, frowning "I have heard" Mal shakes his head "not all of it. She was very upset you've returned, she believes you are manipulating Asch."

Illidan was annoyed, having to hear this again was testing his patients, but his brother continued "Asch is a formidable Druid. I do not believe she would be with you if she believed you would do wrong" his brother shrugs lightly "that much alone gives me freedom to trust you." Illidan isn't sure if he cared for his brothers trust anymore, but the thought was welcoming, if not intriguing.


"Have you...?" Mal gestures with his hands, waving then slightly, Illidan rolls his eyes "have I what?" Whatever Malfureion meant Illidan was not understanding. "What are you... to Asch?" Illidan could find offense in the question, it was private and Mal wasn't allowed to ask such a thing, still Illidan sares his curiosity, if only to annoy Tyrande. Mal would never keep such a thing away from his beloved wife.

"We are lifemates. I do not yet know if she will want to marry" that was a complicated ritual involving Elune and blessings and Cenarius since she was a Druid, Illidan also believed he wasn't allowed to do it, since he was demon tainted. Illidan would, if they allowed it. If not, he would find another way to do it for her.

Malfurion looks rather surprised by his answer "you are? When?" Lifemates were bonded to each other, the ritual was just a passing for pubic, becoming someone's lifemate was private and some didn't choose to do it, being that elves lived very long lives they would do the public Elune ritual and break off once the fancy had passed, but lifemates was a very serious commitment.

Illidan had done it with Asch to prove his love for her was greater then his for Tyrande. In the middle of a forest, when it was almost pitch black, they marked each other with paint and said binding words, and consummated their bonding in the grass.

Few weeks later he left her and only now just returned.

"Before, long before- what does this matter?" Mal snaps back, "it does not, just... I did not know. It seems there is much I still do not know about you still" Illidan refused his twin, who wasn't so much a twin anymore. A moment of peace passed through the brothers before Illidan sighs, squeezing the bridge of his nose.

"I suppose in time we may fix this" a smile ghosts his brothers lips, Illidan shares it, briefly before twitching to the sound of soft foot steps "Illidan...?" Asch rubs her eyes, somehow making it down the stairs without hurting herself, the house was open, the staircase was in the middle of the room, connecting the living room and kitchen.

Asch blinks, adjusting tothe soft light and stands looking between the two, making a soft "oh" sound. Asch awkwardly stands, pulling at her silk night dress, as if she was trying to make it longer. It barely covered the tops of her thighs, if Malfurion noticed he did not say anything, simply smiling at her. Illidan watches her fuss, confused, the night dress was a tad reviling, but Malfurion was the intruder and Asch shouldn't have been embarrassed. Although, Illidan supposes it was a little awkward since Mal was a colleague more so then family.

"Did we wake you?" Illidan asks, watching her hover on the last step, "no... I woke up and you were gone" Illidan huffs, moreso at himself then anything, but luckily Mal interrupts, clearing his throat "I see you are needed, I shall take my leave" Illidan flatly glares at the teasing coo, his brother already falling into step like the days Illidan remembers. One of the few thing they used to tease each other about were women, although now they both had mates there would be less talk of fowl things. More talk of love making and babies.

Illidan was not excited to hear how lovingly his brother had Tyrande, not because he still held feeling for the woman, mostly because he found it repulsive and in no way wanted to imagine his brother mounting anything. Sure it was fine when they were dumb children. Now it just seemed strange.

Illidan defiantly didn't want to tell his brother how hot it was when Asch grabbed his horns. Or how nice it was to be with her again. Eventually Mal would ask, no doubt he was reaching to do it before Asch came down. Sooner or later it would come up.

Sex was sacred among elves, but Illidan and Mal always shared their experiences, having their fun and trying to beat each other in conquests, that was before they committed seriously, still find times.

Illidan lets his brother out, agreeing to meet him again soon, Asch was still on the step as he turned the door shut, "I gather you've fixed it with Mal?" Illidan wasn't sure, simply he shrugs, humming "mhm I suppose" Illidan hunches a little, picking her up, Asch giggles lightly as she dangles, feet brushing into his ankles.

Gently, Illidan puts them to bed, tucking his wings back into place and fitting the blanket over them. Asch leans up for a kiss, then snuggles down into his neck. Just as before Illidan pets her spine, listening to her slowly fall back into sleep, but this time, he follows.

Chapter Text

Dove is shaking in fury, what was worse, the stupid demon hunter he put his trust in allowed this.

"Of course you'd get us caught by the legion!" Dove yells, shoving the hunter, Ferris takes the abuse, silent. It smelt fowl here, too much was hitting his senses, making his head hurt. It hurt, but Ferris opens his eyes, focusing on Dove, without all his armour the elf appeared weaker.


"Tell me now" Ferris says softly "where did they come from? Before we die" Dove knows what he's asking, the defensive snarl tells him Dove still doesn't want too. Dove growls, feriously rubbing at them. "Fine! Gods fine!"

Ferris sits up, awaiting the tale. Dove refuses to look at him. "I have one sister. She was cruel always. When she was given her markings she stole the paint and needle, she said she wanted a sister, one she could share her rite with... so she scarred my face, drew this. When my mother found me it was too late to undo the damage." Ferris watches as he claws at the bottom of the jagged tattoo. The elf searched the floor, as if he was trying to find something other than black dirt.

"My eyelids bled for days."

Ferris didn't know what too say, he thought the wardens allowed him to have the markings, given freely and accepted of his own will, not scraped on by his terrible sister "I'm sorry. Before, for calling you a women" Dove lets out a soft, pained laugh "may as well. I look enough like one" Ferris snorts, humourlessly, but they share a small smile.

"Certainly are pretty to look at" Dove gives him a ludicrously shocked look, wide golden eyes bulging "shut up, gods we're going to die and you still manage to make fun of me" Ferris shakes his head adamantly, rattling his brain. "I'm not making fun of you..." Dove stares, mouth parted open dumbly.

"You... you think I'm pretty?" It sounds foreign to Dove, every women, man even called him a pretender. An outcast.

"Well... handsome, if you rather" Dove's never been called either "no... no I- I like pretty" the hunter smirks, chains clinking as he adjusts into leaning closer "then I think you're very pretty" Dove felt a rush, a dizzy confusing rush that had him smiling through the heat in his face. For all his life he knew he liked men, but this demon hunter, he never assumed Ferris would would fall into the catagory.

"Look at that face" Ferris chuckles "don't think I've ever seen you so happy. Or at all" Dove shoots him a look that has the hunter throwing his hands up in surrender "I see I pushed my luck" another long stretch of silence.

Dove isn't sure how to process the information, really what is he suppose to do with it? They were going to die, or be put to work in whatever demon camp. There was a lot to be desired now, with the revolution of the hunter liking him, Dove was worried what was suppose to happen next.

"What does this mean...?" Ferris peels into thought, lip jutting out, never had it occurred to Dove to really look at the demon. His horns were scratched too shit, like a saber used it as a post for its nails. The scars alone were an outlier, not an inch of skin was left untouched. His tattoos seemed unmarred, perfect swivels and shapes. Green as fel fire and just as luminescent. The claws were the worst of it all, sharp, thick and glinting dangerously. Before they were caught Dove witnessed the hunter use them more then he should have.

"I'm not sure. We can leave it like this" the attraction was there, Dove felt it like a thread tugging at him. What was this? Friendship now? What exactly did you become with a man who called you pretty? "What could it be?" Dove found himself asking, without his permission. Cursing at himself, that was far to bold.

"Whatever you like, demons have a different way of doing things, but it will be as you say" different way of doing things. This confuses Dove.

"What do you mean, different?" Ferris shrugs "like Druids I suppose. We pick someone and create a bond" Druids were complicated, driven by animal instinct. However, a demon is driven by demonic powers, what those were however Dove wouldn't ask, didn't assume Ferris would know how to explain.

"And if I want you?" The words made his tongue tingly and a pit formed in the hallow of his empty stomach. There was a teasing smirk on his face "how can I say no to such a pretty face?" Dove glares flatly at him, lip curling "shut up- be serious!" The hunter shrugs, hardly looking apologetic "I am, if you're serious too. Then I'll stand by your side for as long as you have me- though, we will be at odds with our people" Ferris shakes his head "yours I mean to say. Mine don't care about who fucks who" Dove clinches his teeth, cringing a little at the statement. However it was true. Nightelves were very strict about sexual matters even more now that their race was no longer everlasting.

It made even worse by Dove's pride. Being with the hunter would be no secret, the scrutiny and ridicule will be endless.

"Hmm" Ferris grunts, scratching his hair "you think we'll be the first, or do you think that Maiev and Illidan beat us to it?" Dove audibly groans his disgust "lady Maiev wouldn't... wouldnt-" "fuck?" Ferris saw the twinge in his posture before at the use of the word, the colouring on his cheeks darkened "she wouldn't! She hates him!" Ferris barks out loud, wild laughter "and you hated me, yet here we are, thinking about the same thing!" Dove was not considering having sex with the hunter, not until now.

"I'm not! Stop being fowl!" Ferris is still laughing, if possible even more then before. Dove crosses his arms, feeling violated as Ferris doubles over "you're a prude, I should have expected that" tears are wiped away from his cheeks, the dead eyes looking at him with lewd implications "I am not! Just because I haven't doesn't mean anything! At least I have a reason!" No one even wanted to speak to him because of the markings on his face.

"Ahh, you're right. I'm sorry little elf" the tattoos were a sore spot, one that would never heal. "What are you then, a lecher?" Dove was annoyed with him, but softens as he watches the hunters face become long, stricken "mhm, no. I had a wife. She perished long ago- I don't remember her face. After my change there weren't many interested parties" a small grin accompanied by sad eyes.

"I didn't know..." Dove feels awful, a constructing pain in his chest.

"I didn't want you too. I've all but forgotten her now. I don't even know her name anymore" that made Dove very sad, "but if you like women..." he's silenced by Ferris' shaking head "much changed besides my appearance and magic. I once held love for women yes, but now they don't interest me" Dove hums quietly, rubbing his fingers into his arms, having nothing else to do but stare at the floor.

Chapter Text

Illidan awoke to warmth, it was a nice feeling. When he cracked his eyes open the sunlight flittered through the tree into the window, sitting Asch with spots of light as the slow rise of her back shifted his hand, still resting over her back.


Illidan rubbed the spot, watching as she gently woke up, "darling" he coos, smiling. Asch with her burly eyes and a tired expression musters a smile. Somehow she sways up, sitting firmly on his hips, mushing the sleep away. Illidan lets his hands wander, groping her thighs. The night dress just hides an explicit view.

Illidan slowly sits up, kissing her neck, cascading kissing up her cheeks and forehead, making her giggle and squirm. Asch looks up at him, as if she wants to say something. Illidan waits, a brow tilted. Her face blooms, "um." She mutters nervously, Illidan hums softly in question, rubbing his fingers into her soft skin.

"I want..." Asch was beat red within seconds of speaking, Illidan was overly curious now, very intrigued by what she was trying to ask, though he was patient, trying not to push for an answer.

Asch looks away, shame riddled "what is it darling?" He tries, a little concerned "can you... oh" she buries her face into her hands, sighing deeply, frustrated "it's alright you can tell me" Illidan tries to kiss away her hands from her face, but isn't sucessful.

"I want you... to- to... be" Asch gulps, finally showing her face "rough" Illidan blinks, be rough- oh. Oh... something switched inside Illidan. Most all his life, he, Malfurion and men of their kind devoted themselves to women, praised and adored them. They weren't rough or barbaric as humans were, weren't selfish or terrible. The demon instincts inside of him roared to life, abandoning the elvish nature of careful.

Purring, Illidan asks "do you?" Asch nods meekly, still blooming in colour "I-I've read about demons... the way they..." it was very sweet how she couldn't even say it "I thought since you were half, it was hard for you too battle with instincts...?" Asch punched out the words as if she was afraid to offend him, but it was quite the opposite. It was true, while their sex was intimate, it was sometimes hard to ignore his base instincts, things he wouldn't allow himself to do, but wanted desperately.


"Are you sure?" He asks firmly "I don't want to hurt you" he could, so easily it frightened him. Asch, among the shame on her face, was determined "I want you to... to do what feels right anything- please?" That sent him over the edge.


Asch gasps as Illidan drives forward, making her crash into the bed. The loom of his shadow was frightening, but it made the heat between her legs grow. Illidan was- to the best of her knowledge a nathrezim, a dread lord. Illidan resembled one closely, but she couldn't be sure. It was a pressing issue that Illidan was having a hard time dealing with both halves of himself and Asch wanted desperately to help. Nathrezim were violent, they were a war culture and anything you had was fought for, little was known about them and very few women existed, which was why only powerful nathrezim were permitted to mate with them.


Most all of the information was assumed in texts and figured. But still, Illidan was a demon. Nathrezim were said to kill their mates, Asch was not worried about such a thing, she trusted Illidan.


Illidan was purring, rubbing the insides of her thighs, mushing the skin and making little spiderweb nicks with his claws, something had changed. His eyes were wild and predatory, dangerous even. Asch felt like a lamb sent to slaughter. Illidan takes ample time to make bleeding dents with his teeth, soiling her nightgown. His claws cut shallow patterns, marking up her body while purring like a kitten, lapping up the crimson. Asch was fascinated, his mouth played with her nipples, distracting her from the pain he was causing.

"Everyone will know you're mine" he hisses proudly, "they'll know how good you are for me. Made for me." The elf part of Illidan vanished, left was a possessive demon. Illidan had bitten her, marked up her neck with very harsh and painful bites. Fingers made bruises where he touched, but even the littlest of his hints shows in his actions that he wasn't so far gone.

Whenever he hurt her, Illidan would pleasure her. Mask over the blooming pain before it became to much. Asch was bleeding everywhere and Illidan was looking more and more pleased as he continued, Asch was already panting and he hadn't even started. "You're so wet." Illidan praises, pulling her legs further apart, staying from his half seated position "do you like this? Do you like being used?" His claw drags down her leg, blood beads along the open scratch "or do you like the idea of people seeing you used?" Asch felt hot shame at the idea, but that alone made her cunt flutter, clinch around nothing as Illidan coos.


A single finger runs softly between her lips, pressing minutely against her hole "you're dripping darling, do you want my cock so bad?" Asch fumbles for words, babbling as he teases her.

Illidan relishes at her whining, licking up the blood as it trickles out. The demon half loved marking her, seeing the bruises and cuts, the elf part was squirming, quietly pleading for him to stop. Asch bared her neck, much like his brother did when overpowered. Seeing Asch submit made the demon purr.


Torture, it was slow torture. The drag of his cock was slow, intentionally. Illidan was baring down on her, teeth clamped into the meat of her neck, sucking the flowing blood. Illidan rolls his hips, enjoying as Asch writhes, frustrated and trapped under his heavy frame.

Deep, grinding and full. It couldn't be described as anything else. Dominating maybe, Dangerous. Trapped at a demons mercy, Illidan was latched into her like a leach, his cock pumping, pulsing angrily. Illidan hisses around her clamped skin "please..." she rasps, fingers twitching against the sheets, trying for purchase. Illidan snarls, burying his cock and spurting, finally the relief.


Asch laid under him, shiver as his fingers work again her swollen clit, Asch wiggles against his cock, moaning and Illidan holds her. Asch gropes behind her, clasping at his horn as she comes, shrieking.

"Illidan..." Asch composes herself, Illidan licks the wounds the created, "thank you" he coos, kissing what he could reach. "Mhm" Asch turns, Illidan lets her up, "I love you." Asch smiles tiredly "I love you too."


There was a underline knowledge, everyone halted, staring and tried to ignore the obvious for the sake of professional. Illidan was a subtle as a giant walking through a forest. Asch was mortified, regretting the whole thing as people looked her up and down, judging her. Illidan at least didn't allow such a thing for long, his massive wings would beat or his face would catch and the offender would look at their shoes.


"Illidan!" Khadgar was moving with purpose, Maiev on his heels. Asch couldn't tell what the warden was thinking, but she knew it wasn't pleasant. Asch and Maiev did not like each other, for some of the obvious reasons. Illidan looks behind her, pressed to her back like a gargoyle. The Mage doesn't notice the tension, or for the matter is interested in other things. "We've broken through to the tomb!" This excited Illidan into drawing in action, moving to round his mate in slow curious steps. "You have?" Khadgar nods eagerly "we've broken though the seals- we are now able to storm the tomb!"


Illidan set to work, preparing his team the depths of the demon stronghold.


Khadgar was mulling over plans as he spoke. "This venture could take months, longer if we do not fully prepare our troops." Illidan grunts, knowing this. "I will spend as long as I need too incrhe tomb, ridding ourselves of the demon scum is the most important." Khadgar agrees, hesitantly. "What does Asch think?" Illidan eyeballs the human. "She is not coming." Khadgar shows surprise on his wrinkled old face. "Does she know this?"

Illidan hisses behind his teeth, glaring. He had no time to tell her. "I will- get troops ready for tonight. We enter the tomb at dusk!"

 

Illidan had thought he would just tell her and then leave to greet the raiding party. How horribly was he wrong.

Asch exploded in rage, deeply hurt she was being left out. "I'm going! You cannot force me to sit idle like this while you enter that light-forsaken place!" Illidan bares his teeth. "You are my mate!" He roars. It wasn't as though he intended to get her mad, but Illidan never had been good at sitting silently. "You will listen to me!" Asch flintches backward, hurt struck across her face.

"You say it as if I'm your pet!" She spits. "Shall I sit at your feet too?" Illidan narrows his eyes "women I did not-" "lick your cock until you order me into my belly? Am I some toy to you?!" Illidan had had enough. Slamming his hand into the wood by Asch's head, he snarls, panting in rage.

Asch shrivels, caged between his arms. "I'm not doing this to be cruel!" He growls. "I'm doing this so I don't lose you in that fucking place!" His voice grows soft as he limply lays his horns into the wood, trying desperately to touch his head to hers.

"Do you think I want you to be lost?" Asch leans up, bumping his head, grabbing his arms to stay on her tiptoes. Illidan loudly sighs "I will never be lost. So long as I have you- please my darling. Just stay. I promise I will return..." Illidan waits, watching conflict and anger rush across her face. Then acceptance.

"If you leave me alone in this world again I will not be so kind the next you return too it" Illidan droops, smiling down at her as their lips meet. Asch parts from him, panting in his face, still inches apart "when do you-" "tonight" Asch never looked more upset.

"That is so soon!" She looks frantically behind him to the window, where the sun hung low. Illidan chuckles lightly "I can be a little late..."


Asch laid there, watching Illidan dress. Panting softly. Illidan was heaving, but he had to leave. He could not stay wrapped around his mate. Sweat still lingered on his back.

Asch got up, pulling the sheets off the bed. Quietly, Asch reaches Illidan. Touches his back with a firm hand. Illidan's head turns, eying her with interest. "Don't die" she mutters, afraid. Illidan tucks his wings, turning to face her. "I give you my word." Asch quivers, tears welling in her eyes. "Don't cry" he nearly begs, forced to watch as she breaks. A shutter of air and she's balling silently, sniffling as he drops to his knees, pained.

"Please" she begs pathetically. Hands touch his face, as if trying to map and remember each groove. Illidan pulls her into him, forehead against forehead. "Please don't go, please don't leave me alone again." Illidan feels weak, a lump in his throat. "I will never let that happen. Please don't be sad darling." Illidan tries to wipe her tears away, still more spill from her eyes.

He gets an idea.

Slowly, he lets go. Reaching up to his head and loosing the knot of his blindfold. "Asch?" He prods, smoothing the folds from the cloth. Asch wipes her eyes, looking down at his hands. Asch watches as he brings it up to her, tying it taught to her neck like a chocker. "Give this back to me when I return" he says, a small smile upon his face.

Asch desperately holds onto his arms, shaking in fear. "When? When will you come back?" Illidan can't say, nor can he promise a time. Still, he comforts her. "I will, I promise this. Just... wait for me here. I will come home." Asch's lips quiver, as if she wants to say something. Illidan doesn't allow her too.

Quickly and full of passion he claims her lips, tasting her tears.

"I love you little elf" he whispers into her lips "remember this."


Asch tries to reach for him as he lets go, making her stay put as he leaves. The last she sees is the best of his wings speeding away from their home.

Then she wails.


Malfurion cringes at his wives nagging, angered by him.

"He has gone again and left her in pieces!" She spits, still ever elegant. Two months have passed since Illidan and his adventurers had begun the raid in the tomb. Two months of endless crying and hollowness. The grove was suffering. The house so full of flowers had all but died. The constant moaning and wailing was an upset. Asch had refused and company. Her door was permanently shut to everyone.

Tyrande had had enough. "He has not left her!" Mal tries to smooth his ruffled wife, but it does nothing to quell her rage. "All but in words he has! Look at what Illidan has let happen- again! I should not be surprised! We warned her my love! Why does she not listen?!" Tyrande meant well, always meant well. The first time Tyrande made Asch come to their home and slowly she returned. Became one with her studies and quickly stood on level with Malfurion himself in the Druid arts.

Although it was suffering. Without ones lifemate it was all for not. Illidan had been dead, it had strained their bond. Arguably it was worse that he was alive and away.

"We have to do something. She is distraught!" Mal furrows his brow. What could they do?

"My love, what do you suggest?" Tyrande looked at him angrily, Mal wasn't being helpful, putting it all on her. "Will she stay with us? That worked before?" He adds, a frown marring his handsome face. Tyrande tuts, shaking he head. "She won't leave..."

Mal sighs hard, rubbing his temples "have you seen her?" Tyrande shakes her pretty head "no, she won't allow anyone entrance." Mal glares at nothing, fuming quietly "then we make her."


Illidan stood facing down funnels of demons, rushing toward the platform. Velen was attacking crazily, slaughtering demons with burning light and molten hatred. It was artful, impressive. The adventurers struck at Kil'jaeden. Fighting off his attacks while dolling out their own.

It was harsh, the battle drew out, the blackish dark had Illidan giving his sight to those in need. The deceiver was on his last legs, few more well placed blows and it would be over.
Illidan could go home.


The roar was fantastic, the ship titled suddenly. "Khadgar!" Illidan shouts, "take us home!"


Asch saw the sky become ripped in two, the fowl planet of demons came into view and sorrow filled her outright. Was it over? Had Illidan fallen? Was this the punishment Kil'jaeden saw fit to reek upon those who dare challenge him? Asch falls to the floor, staring out her window.


Illidan was greeted first by his sister in law, the angry bellowing had him wondering what was at all attractive about her in the first place, but her words held points.

"She's been locked away for months!" Four to be exact. Illidan counted the days dilligently. Awaiting the day. His muscles were tired and his eyes were sore. The cloth that usually veiled the sharp world was still in Asch's possession. Still, he did not regret giving it to her.

"Stop nagging me women" Illidan hisses, pushing away from her and his brother. Tyrande flushed terribly, but Mal stopped her from reacting. "We will have words later." Mal says, letting his brother go. In a gust of wind and wings, he takes off. The faint noise of Tyrande's yelling can he heard through the clouds.

Illidan heard cheers as he soared over the Grove, watching the excited faces greet him in victory. Puzzled by this as all they step back for him as he lands. All Druids alike make a path for him as he steps toward his home. Down the stream and buried slightly in the overhand of trees.

Illidan sees no flowers.

"Asch?" He calls, awaiting outside the locked door. Upset that it was shut rather then open like usual. The door creaks open, "little elf?" He chirps. Finally, the door swings open and Asch springs forward, into his arms.

Illidan chuckles "I promised." He teases. Illidan was glad to be home, the horrors of the tomb were much to bare and to finally be in the arms of his mate was a euphoria.


Asch balls, so happy. Illidan sees flowers sprout all around him and bloom in her hair. Illidan leans back, taking on the sight, she was just as he left her, cheeks puffy and eyes crying. Although for different reasons. One thing that stood out however...

The bump that rested just shy of his own taught stomach. Illidan makes it no secret as he stares. Asch catches him and takes her hands from his, resting her palms against as if to hide it. "You aren't...?" He says stupidly. Illidan's clawed fingers poke gently at the clothed belly. It was hard, unyielding. Protecting the thing hidden inside.

There's life, he now sees. A swirling ball of lime green and pale yellow, swimming under her skin. Tainted. Demon fowl.

Illidan arches away, disturbed. "How long has it been feeding upon you?" Asch didn't look hallow, gaunt. As if she was carrying a normal child. Illidan knew, all too well what was inside her. A demon, a watery third bred. Still a demon. They fed upon their mothers. Females could handle it, thought of it as a gift if they didn't miscarriage or birth a still born. Thus far the thing was alive and twitching inside his mate.

Asch looks displease by is choice of words and angles away, upset. "Four months and it's not feeding! It's growing!" Growing. Yes, it was. Into something fowl. Illidan narrows his eyes, choosing his next words very carefully. "It's not... elvish." Asch winds her arms around her middle. "I didn't think it would be." Asch huffs. "I thought you'd... be happy- it's a baby Illidan. Our baby!" Asch sounds more excited as she finishes. Illidan's mood only blackens.

"It's a demon. Tainted because of my befouled seed." He didn't mean to hiss at her. Asch looks equally upset and stunned. "What would you have of me then?"

"Kill it." Illidan responds easily.

Asch recoils completely away from him. As if he was an enemy himself. "I will not! Gods take you for saying such a thing!" Druids revered life, so much in fact that they would risk such foolishness and carry fowl spawn.

Illidan snarls, not imagining his return be at all like this. Asch was crying again, silent tears as she hides her stomach. It did not do anything to hide the shifting ball of fel inside her.

"To what end?" He barks, anger consuming him. "Are you willing to risk your own life for that of a demon child?" Mothers of pure demonic energies barely survived birth, if at all. And almost always it ended in both the babies death and their own. No good could come from this venture. Asch was being foolish. "You're asking me to kill our baby Illidan! I cannot!" Illidan bites his frustration away. Snarling his lip at her words.

"Are you going to let it kill you first then?" Illidan revolts. Asch has a nasty frown, one that Illidan hated to see on her pretty face. "I have read the risks! I know what to expect!" Does she? Illidan almost asked, but held his tongue.

His gaze grows soft, eying the tie around her neck. Sighing, he relents, only because he knew this would hold no end. "I do not want to fight." He says passively, watching her unfold with hesitation. "I have missed you for months. This is not what I wished to come home too." It was unbearably honest. Asch's feet scrape the ground as she moves toward him. Cupping his face gently. "I... want to keep it- please. I know what can happen." Asch shakes, tears beading down her cheeks.

Illidan feels the gently press of her swollen belly, a odd warmth spreads through him. Illidan's lip twitches, his mouth trying to find words. "I won't allow it to kill you." He warns, allowing no argument. Asch doesn't give one. Simply, she folds into him.

Illidan plucks her, easily picking her up in his arms. Asch stays glued to his throat, hugging him as he moves into their home.

Base instincts surfaced more now then he remembered they had. It made Illidan feel like an animal.

The bump between them made him edgy, upset. A fiery feeling inside him made Illidan feel disgust. His hindbrain said, mate. Young. Pregnant and good. While his real thoughts were pleading at him to purge the foul spawn.

Illidan touches it again, feeling the protruding shape. Asch was asleep. All he wanted to do was sleep, but the nagging discomfort kept him awake. Illidan imagined this. Long ago when he was still whole. Imagined babies.

His mind would not rest until something was done.

Chapter Text

A dead hush fell over the crown as Anduin watches the grim face of Greymane walk with heavy boots up to the arches. The crowd around them now dead as wind.

"Anduin" soft, softer then the prince ever imagined the old wolfs voice could be. Anduin seals his eyes shut, head dipping in defeat. Greymane clutched a letter, and his father. No where to be found.

Gently, Anduin steals his hands away from his bride. Today. Today he was to be married. The look on her face, the beautiful but sad eyes trying to comfort him.

"It's okay Asch" he finds himself saying. It's not. It will never be. At least, she relents, looks comforted by his words. The dress billows around his ankles, pulling him back. The maids help unwind him, Anduin stumbles for a moment.

"He's... gone" Anduin knew, but the words struck him. Sent pain right through his body. Pinging his heart with waves. The assembly was here for a celebration, but as the old wolf spoke tears welled in their eyes, not from beauty of a young couple marrying. The mourning of their beloved king.


Asch gasps behind him, covering her mouth as tears well up, slowly she falls into her knees, dress belling around her like a lily pad. Anduin hangs his head. Nuptials must wait, for now they plan a funeral.

Anduin shows a rare moment of anger, throwing aside the food and treats laid out. The bedroom wasn't clear of honeymoon things. Made up for an excited couple. Asch flintches away "my love-" "clear this away- all of it!" He bellows, upset as the maids spring to life. Tears of shame, anger and emotion fall off his face, bitter.

He's shaking as Asch comes to him "come lets sit down" Anduin can't function right. He allows Asch to take him to the bed, now clear of roses and petals. "Much will be asked of you today" the funeral was hastily put together, Anduin didn't want this for his father, Greymane said there wasn't even anything to bury. But it wasn't his choice, the people of the alliance need to know they have a leader. He needs to be crowned today of all days, his wedding day, his fathers funeral.

Everything was ushered away, nothing but the announcement of their wedding was left.

"I had hoped I'd have my wife to face it." They share a sad smile. Asch sighs, eyes crinkling with sadness. "We will. Soon." Anduin rubs his eyes, scrapping the cuff of his sleeve over his wet, red face. "Stay with me tonight. I don't want to sleep alone." Anduin would never lie, not even if it made him appear weak. Asch smiles, brushing his hair away from his forehead. It was improper he knew, but he could not bring himself to care. After all, she was suppose to be his wife today.

"Of course Anduin." They share a moment, hands tightly wound together "I love you, Asch" his heart clinches desperately "I love you too."

The hours that followed were taxing on both Asch and Anduin. The prince of Stormwind always thought his father would be here, old and full of life. Giving his son the crown and finally, resting. Not this day. Anduin stood with the bishop, peaking at his bride while the heavy crown was placed on his head, burdened.

Anduin followed the words, said the oaths and sucked in a tight breath as he accepted his duties as high king of the alliance. Velen calmed his soul slightly, Asch did as well, offering her support in chaste kisses and embraces, letting her love wash over him until he felt it nudge at the numbness he felt. Everything was to be rushed now, preparing him for leadership. In the days following they would have their wedding, and Greymane would hiss about children.

Time, Anduin thought. None left now. Was it all business for his father? He wished he could ask. So many things he wanted to ask, to talk to his father again. Hear his words of wisdom and comfort. Was it rushed? Was he rushed into the roles by impatient advisers? Or did his father have to luxury to slow down. Anduin knew Asch. Knew her since he was little and his father was gone. They had met because of Bolvar Fordragon. Anduin was a shy boy and Asch said she liked that, liked him.

After a while he became very close to her, after his father returned, Varian pressed him to marry the little spark, claiming that excitement was to be had with a girl who could challenge him. Anduin thought about it for a long time, but didn't act upon his feelings until he faced Garrosh and the Devine bell shattered his bones. Afraid for his life and what was to come of it, he cemented his place, asking for her hand with a little courage from his father and teacher.

Asch said yes.

Happy, it was. So very happy. He remembered the feeling of his father clapping his shoulder, laughing with him as he excitedly told him the news. His father was suppose to be there to give Asch away. Excited to do it even.

Even now as he stands, glass poised to his speech. His throat catches, unable to form words, even sounds. No one blames him, simply they all wait, looking at him with attention.

"My father" he says it like a croaking frog, a broken man. Anduin flinches at the sound, turning his face away from the embarrassment, what he finds is Asch, smiling at him through tears, egging him on with all she could muster. He tried again.

"My father-" a deep breath "was one with faults" pigheaded and foolish at times, stubborn and argumentative. The list would stretch on. "But he never did anything that wasn't for his people." Arthas comes to mind, Bolvar another. "In life he showed mercy-" Garrosh. "Love." His mother "and wisdom." Anduin.

"Most of all he showed courage."

Facing throngs of demons, alone.

"My father died for his people. Gave everything- sweat, blood and now, his soul. To the alliance..." Anduin bites his tongue, trying not to cry "I hope, pray. That I can be the man my father was. Devote myself to everything he was. For in death he left a long path for me. One will now walk for you, for his people. My people." Anduin tips his glass, everyone does the same, some crying over their wine. Anduin wants to do the same, but now he must be strong. Like his father.

He drinks. The liquid is thick down his throat. Greymane nods to him once.

The leaders come to him, one by one swearing themselves to him, to the alliance like they must have for his father. It was custom he knows. He wishes it wasn't. To see his teacher, Velen. Bend the knee and promise his people wasn't something Anduin could bare. Tyrande's commanding form, bowing for her king. It felt strange, wrong somehow.

These people, the leaders. They frightened him when he was younger. They were all older then he, a thought crossed his mind. They shouldn't be bowing to a boy king. Venom spat. You aren't ready for this. Anduin shakes himself, accepting the dwarf lords fealty.

Asch, as if sensing his inner turmoil came to him like a light in the dark, standing by the arm of his throne, resting her light hand upon his shoulder, squeezing. Looking up, he sees her kind smile, the happy yellow of her eyes making him feel bursts of safety, calmness.

Asch was beautiful today, her hair was taken down from its elaborate twists and braids, the flowers replaced with black ribbon, but not to create another alluring style, simply to hold silver locks away from her face. Black did not suit her. It did not suit him.

"You're okay" she said. Anduin felt better, did as she told him and simply, felt okay.

Guidance was something he needed more then ever now. Anduin had no idea how to do this, yes. He had been trained to rule, but to actually do so. It was terrifying. It dawned on him suddenly that he was to guide people, he could not seek it and watch others take charge. It was his duty to do so for others.

Asch was tripped by his sudden movements, she stumbled and scraps the throne for balance, watching Anduin with confusion as he rushed away.

People watch the scene, Asch coughs, gaining her composer "he needs a moment" Asch wasn't sure what had happened, so with a side glance at Greymane she picks her dress up, trotting after his retreat. Greymane understands what is needed to be done and takes over.

"Anduin- darling!" Asch yells after him. Anduin ducks quickly into a side room, gulping for air "my love!" Asch isn't unwanted, but Anduin doesn't know what he wants now. Reguardless of his feelings, she comes, grabbing his face to look at her "I... I can't do this" he says. Voicing his fears makes him feel weak, pathetic.

Asch doesn't say anything and he continued ranting. "I don't know what I'm doing- it's... it's my job to figure everything out for everyone! Asch I don't know what I'm doing!" Asch hushes him, prodding them onto the floor. Asch strokes his face, bringing him to her breast like a child. And much like the boy Anduin feels he is, he curls into her, scared.

"It's alright not too" Asch presses, stroking his hair in circles, surely messing it up. "Your father didn't always know what he was doing. You don't have to-" "but I do! And my father did Asch... he always knew what to do..." Asch quiets his raving with a simple, motherly hush.

"He knew because he asked. He asked things of you, didn't he?" Anduin nods, hiding away and holding her close as he could. "With wisdom he learnt from you, he showed mercy to Garrosh. Varian didn't know everything darling. Neither do you. I'll be here, as will Velen. He is still your teacher" she teases him in a light voice.

"What if I fail? What if I fail them all- and you... what if I cause the downfall of the alliance?!" Asch responds by removing his face, kissing his lips fully before he can dig deeper into his despair. "You will not fail, Anduin. So long as you draw strength from Varian- from me. You will not fail your people. The light will not let you fail."


Anduin reguards the strong willed look of hope in her eyes, the determination in her speech and realizes how foolish he was. "Anduin" Asch says, bringing his attention. "You don't have to shoulder this all alone. I will do everything in my power to help you" as will Velen and Greymane. Tyrande and the Dwarfs...

Anduin colours, shamed "I'm sorry I-" she hushes him again, firmly pecking his dry lips "none of that, you're allowed to be scared darling." More and more he felt the weight lift. "Thank you my love." Anduin shifts them, pulling Asch into his lap. In a bold move, very unlike himself. Anduin kisses her, cupping her hips with solid hands.


Asch makes a soft noise, surprised by his sudden advances, but doesn't push away. Anduin feels her hands scale up his chest, gripping his neck. Anduin deepens the kiss, probing his tongue into her soft lips. They yield, parting open for his adventure. She tastes like crab. Varian's favourite food.


It's funny, Anduin thinks. Breaking the heated kiss with a laugh. Asch looks at him, a little dazed "my father is probably shaking his head at us" Asch snorts adorably, looking around. Ah. How interesting would it be to be caught in a broom closet groping his fiancé at his fathers funeral.

"I think he would shouting 'finally!'" Anduin throws his head back laughing joyously into the dust air of the closet. "He always did say the best time for anything was at inappropriate times" Asch agrees with a hum, adjusting heself to press closer, hugging him suddenly "everything will be alright." Anduin takes comfort in her, wrapping his arms tightly around her body.

They sit there for sometime, revelling in the warmth of one another. Until Asch makes them think better of it. They did have guests that they so rudely passed off to Genn. The old wolf likely wasn't appreciating it.

Anduin lets her up first, playfully nipping at her knee. Asch calls him a devil as they leave. In much higher spirits.

Genn was indead winded and casts a very annoyed look their way. However, Anduin can't help but grin at the wolf. Puzzlement crosses his old face and Asch doesn't care to elaborate.

Anduin wished his guests well and waits until each one leaves, making sure guards escort the alliance leaders to their rooms. Some left via portal Mage and promised to return, others such as Velen and the Dwarfs stayed having no reason to leave.

It was late in the evening when finally people were vacant. Asch had insisted upon staying. Anduin didn't want her too, but was grateful for the hand in his as he waits for everything to be finished.

Anduin tucks Asch to his side, ready to wander to bed, when Genn interrupts, clearing his throat. "Yes?" Anduin says. "We've planned the wedding for tomorrow. It's best to do it quickly as possible." Anduin wanted a grand wedding, but seeing circumstances as they were, he could only agree.

The old wolf looks disapproving of them. Anduin can see it in his eyes as he finished speaking "give people something happy" he replied, grinning through annoyance. The next thing they'll want is a pregnancy. More happiness, Genn will say. Use his own words against him. Anduin can't bring himself to talk any longer, bidding the old wolf goodnight.

It wouldn't be long until Asch and Anduin will have to move to his fathers room. In fact he is sure this will the last he sleeps in his own bed. Asch doesn't seem concerned by it. Anduin watches her undress. Staring at the soft curve of her spine. Lucky, he thinks. Not for the first time.

Asch was a beautiful woman, easily one of the most captivating. Even as she turns he's struck with her beauty.

This wouldn't be the first time they shared a bed. His father allowed it when they were young, and as they got older and Asch began to blossom it was harder to just sleep when she snuck into his chambers. Now, looking at his bride too be. Anduin was filled with the need to touch. Asch got into bed, on his side, a possessive feeling crawled into his brain. Animalistic and dangerous. So often did men fall into their hindbrain, forgetting they had any other.

Anduin shakes himself, he was too nervous to act upon his fantasies anyway.

It wasn't proper- not that anyone would know however. Asch curls toward him, sighing in peace. Anduin stares up at the ceiling, dampened by moonlight. Several moment of fidgeting until he's giving up on sleeping. Asch noticed his struggles but doesn't say anything, only holding him. Anduin turns into his side with a huff, watching Asch as she tries to sleep.

Asch peaks at him with drowsy eyes "whats wrong?" Asch whispers. Anduin shakes his head "nothing it's alright... go to sleep" Asch opens her eyes, now fully attentive. Anduin bites his lip, feeling shameful "I.. can't stop thinking about what happened before- in the closet."

Asch gives him a small, devious smile before acting. Asch lifts the blanket up, making sure it was out of the way so it wouldn't hinder her movements. Purposefully she straddles him, resting her pert ass right against his groin. It wasn't exactly like the closet, but it was better. "Did you want to continue it? Or just kiss?" Anduin didn't know, in fact he feft like a lamb against a wolf.

His father always told him, no matter what. Know what you want. He wasn't sure that pertained to sexual matters, but Anduin lets it slide. Though it was shameful, they were unmarried. It was wrong to want too touch her, have her like this in his lap. All on the same day as his father funeral.

Comfort, he thinks. It feels nice. So do it.

"I want to.. to continue" his weak, shaky reply has Asch cooing at him. Stroking his face with faint fingers. Anduin races to her touch, even getting up just so he could reach it. Anduin allows her to puppet him into place, with only her simple touches as the strings. "What do you want my darling?" She says against his lips, quieting his response with full, soft lips.

Anduin can take charge here, this he knows. Asch melds against him as he kisses. The taste of each other lingers as they part, panting.

Asch looks expectantly, awaiting his answer. Anduin gulps lightly "I... don't want to dishonour you" Asch felt a rush of affection "oh Anduin" she gasps, lovingly. "Nothing we do together will dishonour me" Anduin thinks of the light, the rules of priests. He was, on all accounts doing something forbidden. He did not think the light would forsake him however.

"Can... you teach me how to... how to touch you?" Anduin was eager, he wanted to see so much. Asch colours pink, noddingly lightly. They were both shy, Asch moreso, but excitement outweighed her bashfulness, this Anduin was grateful for. Varian wasn't there to teach him about women, but he did talk to his son at length after the fact. Taught him the proper way instead of just leaving with him the know how.

Some women are gentle. Varian had said. Some need firm hands and others don't. Of course this confused him until he got a little older, however. Asch was the gentle type, much like him. Gentle women don't like to be in control.

Asch guides his hands prodding him to slip off her nightgown. Anduin does, trying to make his touch firm. Before him, slowly. Asch become bare to his eye. The slope of her breasts catch his attention, stirring wanton need in him. Give as good as you get. Anduin can hear echo.

Quickly, he removes the same. Making sure she doesn't feel outmatched. Asch graces his skin with her touch. Soft pads run over his scars. Anduin feels powerful just then.

"T-touch me... here" the colour in her cheeks only gets worse as she speaks, Anduin finds he wants to kiss it off. No doubt his own face is flushed. Anduin looks at what she was pointing too, her little breasts heave with her shaky breath. Anduin touches.

Her skin was overheated and her heart was hammering. The mound was so soft, Anduin listened to the hitch in her breath. This he knew what to do. Slowly, his thumb circles over the rosy bud, thumbing it like a button, Asch jolts, making surprising noises. Anduin has never heard such beautiful music. He wants more.

Taking his other hands he cups the other, matching the treatment. Asch wiggles freely in his lap, arching toward him warm hands. The friction feels nice, making him harden from her contestant movements. Slowly, with no idea how to do this, he pulls her higher into his lap, mouth quickly latching into her tender flesh.

Asch squeaks, hand threading in his golden hair, tugging until the ponytail goes loose. Anduin likes this, sucking the soft flesh. He switches, moving his mouth to treat the other. It's okay to leave marks. He hears again. Some woman love that.

Anduin makes a little mark, no bigger then the pad of his thumb. It would be well hidden. Asch purrs in delight, petting the hair at the base of his neck harder. Slowly, Anduin lets his hands wander. Asch doesn't object, too busy writhing in pleasure from his mouth.

Anduin likes this very much, glancing up he can see her face, the beauty in her O shaped lips and lidded eyes.

Anduin released his mouth and used it to say: "you're so pretty" where it had come from he didn't know. Asch is struck, all sense of pleasured haze going from her eyes. She looks at him.

"Gods... I love you so much" Asch grabs him, pulling him on top of her, they fall over. Asch crumbles to the bed, holding Anduin close. The new king was entranced. Asch bumps her hips into him, gaining his attention. Anduin looks down at the soft silky panties hiding the remains of her body "take them off for me- please?" Anduin groans, obliged to do her bidding.

Now he was slow and unsure again. Should he be doing this? What if people found out they were fooling around without wedlock? It raced through his mind as he thumbed the soft silk, scared to remove it. Kings shouldn't be deviants. He thought. But she's going to be your wife...

Anduin shook his head, tugging lightly. Asch lifted her wide hips. Idly he remembered a off handed comment Genn made about her. Birthing hips he said. She'll make fine babies. As if that was all she as for. Children were far off in his mind, no doubt he would want them one day, with his queen no less, but not when the legion was standing at their doorstep, not when she could be kidnapped.

Anduin had strength, but it was all stored in Asch. Just as his mind and soul. He couldn't allow it to be taken. Anduin only snapped back to the present when Asch's knees wiggled into his chest, somewhere along the line of thought he managed to strip the silk off her bottom, now it lazily rests on her knees, clutched with his fingers. Anduin quickly pulls them off, pushing them far off the bed.

Nervousness set in both of them "w-what now?" Varian would chide him. Anduin should know what now.

"You... you can touch" she whispers, fidgeting. Anduin parts her legs. His breath quickens at the sight. "H-how...?" He whispers shamefully. Asch's soft lips part, the flush of her cheeks setting darker "um. With... your hands... or mouth" Anduin heard men used their fingers. Some bolder then he would use their mouth, but Anduin wasn't sure how.

Instead he touches with his fingers, Asch gaps at the contact. Men also whispered about the hard button that if touched sent women into frenzy. Without being obvious, he searches. Anduin poor fumbling has his discovering many things.

His fingers accidentally pushe between her sensitive lips, awaking a yelp from her as they sunk lighting inside. It was scorching. Anduin carefully played around, listening to what excited her. He mushes the wetness, rubbing the skin until Asch jumps away, moaning loudly. Anduin was shocked at first, but realized he found what he sought.

"A-Anduin" she pants, shaking into the pillows. His fingers are coated with slick. Anduin whimpers, resists the urge to lick it off. The king goes to work, abusing this new pleasure centre until Asch is squirming alive at his menstruations.

Anduin fills her gently with his long fingers. It was tight, almost resisting his fingers. Asch pants loudly, breasts heaving. Anduin watches her pretty face flush with arousal, his own straining against his silk pants.

Suddenly she quakes, peaking. Gushing wettly against his palm. Anduin's pants become wet with dribble. Asch's cunt tried to seal his fingers inside, clutching at them in rythum. Anduin carefully removes them, now throwing caution to the wind and licking his hand clean.

Asch watched his lustful face, tongue poking between his fingers to clean them. Like a lazy cat. His heated gaze catches her and her stomach bubbles all over again. "Anduin..." she murmurers, sitting up slowly despite her nakedness.

Anduin looks at her with boyish curiosity. Asch nudges him into the pillows, making him crash into the headboard. "C-can I...?" Asch looks between his legs, eying the clouded wet spot with nervous interest. Anduin harshly flintches, "you... you don't have too" he protests, Asch shakes her head. "I want too." Still breathless, she reaches between them, yanking the hem down. Anduin watches helplessly as his cock is exposed to the warm air. It bobs against his stomach, still leaking.

It wasn't proper. He thinks, disgusted with himself. He needed control. Asch stares at it, before bringing her hand up "no- don't" he seizes her wrist before she touches him. Asch looks up, worried "Anduin?" The king looks at her beautiful face, shaking his head "it's okay really!" Asch is silent for a moment.

"Show me- please?" Asch begs, "let me touch you." Anduin is struck "it's not- not proper for you to-" she quiets him again with a kiss, "please?" She whispers.

Anduin refuses outright for a moment, then chides himself. A king shouldn't refuse his wife of anything. But a priest shouldn't allow such a thing out of wedlock. Anduin was conflicted.

"Please?" She asks once more, eyes pleading "just let me learn to pleasure you- if you still don't want it, we can sleep?" Anduin thinks about it, then with a conflicted heart he agrees. Anduin lets her wrist go and covers her hand with his. Lowering their combined hands.

Anduin rarely touched himself. He knew his hand, but hers. Anduin jumps, yelping. Her fingers were soft, so gentle. Asch kisses away his blush, nipping his red ear. Anduin huffs, keening as her hand wrapped around him in a fist.


Anduin uses her hands to stroke himself, it feels dirty. Asch continues to mouth at his neck, making light marks that will disappear before sunrise. Still it made Anduin pant openly, twitching. Anduin jerks her hand under his, using it as his own and roughly twisting it into the tip.

The warm, new feeling of her hand would make him cum much faster then usual. Anduin was a little ashamed as he bucks his hips, dribbling over their combined hands. Asch arches away to watch, Anduin tugs his cock minutely, pumping out his cum into the back of her hand. Some got in her naked thighs, dribbling down.

Anduin cleans it away, making sure it didn't touch her core. Asch smiles at him, kissing him at every open opportunity.

"Sleep now, yes?" Anduin nods, not bothering to dress.


Xxx


Anduin took a portal to Pandaria. It wasn't unusual for him. Often he found comfort in the breeze, the mountains. He would have liked to stay a while but tonight was his wedding and he needed something done.


Now. Finding what he sought was very easy. Wraithion, the last black dragon sat in seclusion.

"Here I thought you'd be readying for my wedding" the dragon perked, a mischievous smile sparking across his face "here I thought you'd be there to attend your own wedding." Wraithion made Anduin smile.

The king sat. "I sense you come with business?" Anduin nods quickly "is it safe to talk here?" Wraithion shines with interest "oh? My this must be important then." Wraithion ushers him away, heading outside. "Now what is so important?" Anduin looks around, nervous still.

"You're my greatest friend you know this?" Wraithion, sometimes let the veil of playfulness fall and allowed for serious. "Yes, this I know. You are as well little king- what is wrong?" Anduin sighs lightly, looking around at the mountains.

"I'm.. going to be married soon and who knows what will happen after this. My council will want a pregnancy- but... I am terrified." Wraithion tilts his head in thought "afraid of making children... don't you know how?" Anduin grunts. "Of course yes. I come to you... because I need your help. With the legion looming... I'm afraid for my bride." Wraithion jolts alive in understanding "I see! What will you have of me then?"

"You are the only one I can trust with my wife... my children. Please Wraithion if they are in danger, can you help them? Protect them?" Wraithion gives this some thought. "Hmm. Curious. I can see why you wish for her safety. You Wrynn's have a history of being kidnapped." Anduin actually laughs. "I do have a solution however-" from his pocket he produces strings. Anduin didn't understand what these were for. "Here, hold onto this and after the wedding will have your answer."

Xxx


Anduin for the second time, was memorized by his bride. Once again watched her down the isle, accompanied by Genn. Wraithion was watching with the same amused expression he always had, but it hinted seriousness.

Anduin wondered what his plan was as Asch got to him.

Finally, they said their vows. Gave each other words and kissed.

Expectantly, Wraithion found him after the couples dance. "Do you have them?" Anduin nods, producing them.

Wraithion takes them, fishes his solution and takes time knotting them into necklaces.

"This is for you. I consider you family as well..." Wraithion passes them. What produced was something lump shaped, blackish and blood red, like a scale. "It's pieces of my heart" Wraithion murmurs, waving his hand as if that was no big deal. "Squeeze it and I will know to come. Tell your new wife to keep it to her breast-" "what?!" Wraithion chuckles, holding his hands up to defuse the rumpled king.

"To hide it... now take it and go be with her." He prods Anduin like a child, trying to usher him away from the dark corner. "Do not let anyone know what those are. Dangerous in the wrong hands." Anduin halts, puzzled.

"What why?" Wraithion opens his mouth, but doesn't respond right away. "It's.. my heart. I do not give this so lightly." Anduin frowns "will it hurt? If I use it?" It occurred him that he was in fact holding a heart. Anduin could feel the faint beating even as it sat in his palm. "No- ah!" Anduin squeezed it gently, igniting pain in the black prince.

"Alright- only a little!" He hisses as if annoyed at being caught. Anduin snorts, shaking his head. Dragons.

"Off with you now!" Wraithion sounds ruffled, rightly so. But Anduin still found it funny as he pocketed his gift.

 

Chapter Text

Dova looks beyond the confines of the chamber, over looking the plush pillows and sheer curtains. Among him were elves, all seated in a circle. His restraints were magical, crackling violet wrist guards. Dova did not like bloodelves. They were all too cunning and witty.

"Hmm" one titters, aiming his long nose in reguard. "Human. How boring Devous." The elf looks toward another, Devous. Who in turn, shakes him off. "He's a gladiator. I hear they are savages." Dova cannot understand them, squinting in anger. "This one keeps his hair long- how strange..." Dova was a lightly built man, handsome save for some scars. His hair was dark grey, while his eyes as silver as melted steel.

Devous snaps his fingers, a girl comes. A young, shapely elf. Eyes sickly green but hair as white as sand. Devous watches Dova carefully, while groping the girls dress. Dova looks between the two, watching as he wipes away her clothing. Exposing her milky naked skin. "Oh-" says another elf in surprise. "He's aroused..." the girls eyes are cast away, shame blooming on her pretty face. "Interesting..." Dova flintches away, adjusting himsel best he could. "You like our women?" One speaks in common. Dova is shocked. They laugh at him.


The elf speaking to him manhandles the girl, pulling her in front of him. "Why wouldn't you?" He bites, caressing her skin. "You humans. You're like animals." He shoves the girl, she fell onto her knees with a loud thump. "Go on gladiator, show us how beastly you are." Dova sits tall, back curving away. The girl fixes herself, only to be pushed closer with a boney hand. "Go on you whore, amuse us!" Dova watches the girl blink tears away, scurrying toward him.

"Suck his cock!" The elf spits, leaning in his chair. Dova snarls at her, but the elf tuts. "Ah- ah be nice" he says it like chiding a puppy. "Or we'll kill her." A guard, one beside his chair as a crossbow. The girl is quivering. "Please..." she whispers brokenly. The elf in the chair makes an amused sound, "yes, please?" He mimics.

Dova was a famous gladiator. One that brought in money and fame to his keepers. When he was told that his company was bought for the next few nights he didn't assume it would be for this. Yes, many noble ladies paid to see him, but they never touched him beyond a simple grope. It was beneath them to lay with a gladiator. Now another slave, like him. Was between his knees, fulfilling her orders.

Dova watches her move the bare scrap of clothing, he had no obligation to this girl, he could simply refuse and they would kill her... and yet, he couldn't. In the arena it was fair, the fought to the death and only one would leave. This however would just be slaughter.

Dova was already aroused, the timid hand tugging his cock made him grunt. The girl pushed her hair away and takes him into her mouth, igniting a growl from within his chest. She was clumsy, unsure. This girl had never done this before. Her tongue was eager and trying its best, but it couldn't hide her inexperience. The elf in the chair waves his hand, the restraints on his wrists disappear. Dova hisses as her teeth scrape along the sensitive skin. Dova fists her hair with his new found movement. "Take more." The elf snaps. The wide, green eyes stare at him, taking him deeper. This made her choke, throat convulsing around his cock.

The girl struggles, trying to breath. Dova grits his teeth, grimacing at her poor technique. "Stop." He commands in a low, dark voice. The girl halts, looking terrified. "Let me show you." There was no use in her coughing. Dova wasn't sure what could annoy the elves into killing her, so he wouldn't chance anything. Dova pulls at her jaw, pinching it open. Slowly, he lowers her into his cock again. Thrusting lightly. "Breath through your nose." Dova prods, massaging his fingers into her jaw. Frantic, confused puffs of air come out of her nose, flaring just enough that he can see she's trying. Whether out of fear for her life or fear of him. Dova cannot say.

At least now she isn't choking on his cock. The elf sighs angrily behind her, snapping his fingers. Once again, Dova's hands are seized by a guard, forced behind his back. The girl is taken off of him and held there by her hair. Dova struggles against the magic restraints, arms pinned behind his back. The elf snaps his fingers again and the guard moves to her, forcing her mouth open. In one swift motion his cock his devoured by her constricting throat. Her hands claw at his thighs, eyes tearing up. "You took to long." The elf smirks. Dova is helpless to watch as the guards pumps her head up and down his cock, tears flowing down her cheeks as she struggles to breath.

Drool coats his cock as it flows out of her mouth. Wet disgusting noises fill the room and the elves behind them become very interested. Dova has a snarl, glaring hotly at the hand on her head "she can't breathe!" He barks in a rough voice. The elf pays him no mind. Dova looks back at her, distressed by her struggles.

"I... I thought you wanted to see an animal?!" He grunts, trying to hold still as the guard works the poor girl against his cock. The elf snaps up looking at him now. Dova lets a shaky breath go. "Where's the interest in tying me up like a puppet?" The elf beside the him hums in intrigue. "Yes... Devous what's the fun in this? Let the beast do as he wishes. That seems far more interesting..." Devous' jaw goes slack, as if entertaining the idea.

Then with a delicate wave the guard wretches the girl off of Dova. "Go on then. Entertain us." Dova ignores him, slowly he grabs her face with his newly released hands. It's covered in drool and spittle. Dova strokes her delicate neck, it looks very easy to snap. Instead he uses the levarge to yank her forward, kissing her fiercely. The girl is surprised, falling into him. Her hands grip for purchase, slipping on the oil they coated his body in. The elves are amused at this and laugh at her stumbling.

Dova heeds them no mind and invades her mouth with his overbearing tongue. Fianlly, the girl gets steady. Fingers trembling against his chest. Dova releases her, watching her gasp for breath, face hot. Dova pushes her down, making her gasp. Before she can recover, his face is pushing between her thighs. The girl lets out a loud keen, the elves titter excitedly. "Look how he's ravishing her. Utterly barbaric!" Dova works his lips around her petal soft slits, sloppily eatting her out with the same fierce drive he has in the arena.


The girl is inconsolable, thrashing about and arching like a wild animal, wiggling trapped by his hands. Dova forces his tongue deeper, devouring her to the amusement of the audience. In the warriors mind, the better he does, the quicker it will end. "Humans are delightfully savage." Another elf hums, excitedly watching.

Dova can feel her soft hands pulling at his hair, the knot tying up his foxtail is loosing as she pushes him away. Dova persists, knowing why. The girl lets out a broken sob, freezing against his mouth. Shuttering as his mouth steals her juices. Among the things he's tasted, this wasn't the most unpleasant. Dova wasn't allowed to have any company, slaves weren't allowed to have any relations.

Dova wipes his mouth, licking his chops. The girl was twitching, useless as Dova moved her into place. "In your lap, beast." The elf croons, head sitting in his hand. "We want to see!" Dova swallows his disgust, nodding mutely. The girl wobbles against him, slapping her hands weightlessly for purchase.

"Has she..." Dova reguards her, huffing and panting. "Been used before? Oh yes. Don't worry-" the elf chuckles. "Do whatever you like." Dova didn't like the words, or the way he decided to say them. Reguardless, he proceeds. The girls eyes widen as he strokes his cock against her wet hole. "Oh my." Another elf titters in Thalassian. "He's so big!" The elves giggle, watching him sheath this cock.


The girl's face tightens, brow furrowing. Dova knows that look. He allows pride to soak through is bones. She was utterly full. The girl weakly keens, struggling. "Hah..." the girl pants, mouth hanging open in awe. "She's so full look at her!" The elf laughs, utterly amazed.


Dova palms her ass, using the firm hold and thrusting up. The girl shouts, arching into his wet skin. The dirty sound of wet slapping fills the air as he fucks up into the placid body. Her choppy moans fill the space of silence as the elves just watch, infatuated. Some are touching themselves below their robes. Dova turns his eyes away, repulsed.

"Harder slave!" The elf hisses, watching where Dova and the girl were joined. Dova frowns, shaking away sweat from his eyes. Doing as told he drops the girl onto her back, letting her dangle as Dova holds her hip. One hand smacked down by her head.


Dova pumps into her with new vigor, head hanging low between between the slopes of her breasts. The girls mouth hangs open like a fish, "ah- ah- ah-" she spouts with each slide of his cock. Dova's face grows hot, sweat beads off him into her perfect skin.

The girls eyes go slack. One of the elves gets up, Dova's jaw is wretched up by a boney hand. The elf, a woman is smiling at him with her angled face. "What's it like?" Her voice was awful, a high pitched whine. Dova swallows, the elf in the chair jerks his head to Dova. "Soft..." he mutters. The elf mushes his cheeks in, giggling. Dova feels like a dog, but even a dog wouldn't allow being touched while mating. "Can you make him cum inside?" The woman asks, still holding his face. Dova furrows his brow, wondering over the foreign words.

"Hmm... I suppose- Beast!" Dova glares up at the man, hips still rocking into the girl. "Finish inside." Dova's face goes hot, his cock pulses excitedly. "Go on." The elf commands, waving his hands. Dova convulses for a moment, confused. Then does as asked, shoving his hips wildly into her pelvis.

Dova slams his hips, holding onto her with iron grips. The girl looks uncomfortable and full, a worried brow as she's forced forward from the sheer roughness of his pace. Dova cums with a hiss, emptying inside her. The spectators are in awe.


The girl goes limp, hiding her face in her shoulder. "I want to see it again- can he do it again?" Devous cackles at the giggly girls request. "I think our entertainment has had enough. "Slave girl-" Asch scrambles, Dova's cock drops limply with a wet noise. "Take him to his quarters and clean yourself!"

"At once master!" Dova surprised by her voice. "P-please come with me..." she asks, grabbing his clammy hand. The elves continue to make snide comments, ones Dova doesn't understand, but the girl looks shamed as she slips her silky dress on.


They walk in silence down the hall until Dova breaks it. "What did they say?" Dova has a deep and rough voice, one girls said they liked to listen too. This one however looked struck as he spoke, as if burnt by his words. "Nothing- it's alright. Thank you..." Dova's lips thin, annoyed. "Did I hurt you?" Their leavings licked down her thigh like muddled ooze. It looked uncomfortable. "It's alright." She says again. "I'm used to it-" Dova grabs her, tugging her wrist until she's facing him, with a shocked look upon her long, pretty face. "But did I hurt you?" She looks scared, like most girls are when face to face with him. Sure he was handsome, strong. But he terrified most people.

"No... no you didn't." She whispers. Dova lets her go. They walk again in silence before Dova is brought to a door. The quarters were dull, a single fur was left on a small bed. "What's your name?" He watches the girl fiddle about his room, fixing things like she was commanded. "I... it doesn't matter-" Dova stops her again, the girl bites her lip. "Asch..." Dova lifts a brow, considering her name.

"It's nice." The moments ruined by tacky, loud dripping. The girl, now known to him as Asch flames embarrassedly, grabbing hem of her dress to stunt the flow. Dova peers at the mess on the floor. "I'm sorry! I'll clean it-" even before she tries to scurry away, Dova has her. "No." He tells her firmly, eyeing her. "I'll clean it." Asch is puzzled, watching him get down on his knees.

Dova hums inwardly, looking at the trail of dried cume along her leg. Then he moves in, tongue poking out. "Oh! don't-" Dova licks up the inside of her leg, feasting upon the caking semen. Dova couldn't understand himself why he decided to do this. It was by no means pleasurable, in fact tasting his own cum wasn't pleasant. Still he cleaned it all away. Fianlly licking up her messy cunt. It tasted the most sour and salty here. It bubbles out, oozing like molasses. Dova Laps at it, enticing a sweet, featherlight whisper from Asch. Her skirt hides his head, but still Asch shakily places her palm to the back of his head. Dova licks the swollen hole tenderly, strocking his tongue and tasting fresh excitement.

Dova groans, muffled against her cunt, but the vibrations have the elf above him shaking. Her knees knock into his sides, squeezing them. Dova's hands trials up her legs, pulling her soft ass cheeks apart, opening her up more for his invading tongue. Asch gasps around her hand, trying to stifle her crys so no one would catch them. The tongue felt so warm, like before, but this time shame was readily eatting away at her. This time his working appendage felt good.

Her pulse quickens and she wiggles against his face, making stunted noises. Toes curled into the tiled floor, Asch attempts arches away. Although, Dova didn't allow such a thing, his body reacts with hers, moving along like a wave. Asch doubles over against him, muffling her shriek as she claws at his back. Dova is careful to clean her up this time, tenderly lapping at the sticky juices. Purring lightly as he listens to her gasp.

Dova steadies her as he gets to his full height, looking down at the little elf still catching her breath.

"I... I don't know your name" she shutters. Dova smiles lightly, wiping his face. "Dova."

 

Chapter Text

Asch awoke with a chill, gasping she launches upward in the dark. The shadows grew as she pants, hand pressing too still her pounding heart.

Beyond the entrance to her bedroom, under the wide sheer of the curtain stood a ominous figure, the blue- so foreign to her reminded of old times, beautiful times when magic wasn't a crutch. They blink slowly, reguarding her with terrifying accuracy. As if they could see much in the dark, if it wasn't for the subtle moon light that faded from the uncovered window beyond the room Asch would have not seen the figure.

Asch watches those eyes, knees curling into her chest, pressing against her ribs "w-who goes there?!" The ghostly blue eyes tilt, as if they were trying to discern the question "don't you recognize me?" The voice was disturbing, darkly overtoned. As the shadow spoke, frost puffed out, mingling in the air.


The light shines dimly as it moves, taking few steps to enter, its hair was colourless, a perfect snowy white. Asch pushes into the headboard, it halts, sucking in a hissing breath.

"Don't you remember your own husband?" The shadows lighten as her eyes adjust. Asch watches the outline take shape, the high foxtail, ruffled and stands high on a sharply face, forehead creased with concern, the shadows' cheeks were angled, set into a fine jaw. A thin scar ran down a flat brow, cutting down the pale cheek.

Asch sucked in a breath, now cold as stone "Alterius?!" Softly, the shadow recognizes the name, glowing eyes peering into her face "you're... you're dead?!" The globes narrow, angered by her words.

"Get away! My husband is dead!" Asch is pushing into the headboard, terrified at the demon appearing as her long dead lover.

"He's dead!" She yells at it, furious and terrified, gulping down air as it tries to reach for her, halting frozen in place as her accusing words sting.


The demon rights itself, looking at her with wide unseeing eyes "I see" bitterly it speaks, frowning over its shoulder. Asch watches it leave, clutching the bed sheets. The soft falls of its feet thump into the carpet.

Asch found no sleep as she stares at the entrance of her bedroom, looking at the frost gathered on the stained glass.

 

Asch had not thought much of her husband after he died, the pain was still ready inside her when she remembered birthdays that passed without him aging, or Christmas without gifts. Alterius Sunsorrow was declared dead two years ago, buried in the broken part of Silvermoon no one was allowed to enter anymore, Scourge infested the grounds and buildings, a thing Lor'themar was still trying to extinguish. Alterius was one of twenty royal guards sent to Northrend to assist Tirion Fordring.

Champions of the Horde in a trying time as a new Lich King rose to power. Asch had not seen Alterius return for some time, but when he arrived he was coated in flowers and painted armour, not breathing and vacant. Lor'themar was present as they buried him, touching Asch's hand in comfort. There was no comfort that day as she fell to her knees and cried into the sky, tears burring her vision of the intricate and beautiful headstone.

They were freshly married, spent much of it in love and in bed, excited for each other's embrace. Shortly after he was sent off to fight someone else's crusade, dying for someone else's war. It was one week of bliss, the call came and then two years of waiting by the window for the trumpets and hawkstriders trotting with her healthy, alive husband.

When they did come she ran, happy and gripping her dress, so many wives followed her, flying into the arms of their husbands, the men leaping off their hawks to twirl and smile at their families embrace. Some women had babies to show.

The gates shadowed as the carts of flower covered caskets came through, Asch desperately searched for her husband, like eight other girls. As soon as one of the dark haired soldiers came to her with sorrow on his face she knew.

All the girls without their husbands knew and all wept, wailing there like wounded animals. Everyone bowed in sadness as it overtook the celebration. Slowly some girls went, Asch darted toward the carts, looking upon each of the dead elves until she found hers.

Young, they were both so young, Asch gripped the coffin, tears falling into the flowers. His face was cold to the touch, unmarred except a scar, healed poorly on his eye, his hands gripped a sword, stiff and unyielding. Asch cried that day, and almost everyday since.

Many didn't like her company anymore, older women told her she was too young to be a widow, to remarry and make children, but she wouldn't be happy, they said she would, but she wanted babies with his angled face and black hair.

 

Asch thought of Alterius, the demon who wore his face as she picked pears from the vendor, inspecting them with a keen eye, plopping it in her bag. A commotion stirred behind her, along the main road. Asch paid quickly for her basket of goods and squeezed between people until she had a good spot to see what the noise was all about.

Dead horses, silver eyed and tall, death chargers as people called them, massive animals, snorting out harsh breathes, they strode with purpose, slow enough that people could see clearly but quick enough not to linger. Elves among her threw dead fruit and spat curses. Five of them sped by, igniting fury into onlookers "who are they?" Asch says to anyone who would answer, looking at the buring white hooves leave scorch marks in the glossy pathway.


Someone spits out a cruel laugh "what rock have you been hidden under girl?" A man a few people behind her says, rolling his eyes "they-" he points a groomed finger "are deathknights" deathknights? "What are they?" Asch responds, looking at the man for answers "the Lich kings dread riders, since been freed from the grasp of slavery." Guards now shush the crowd, waving them on their way. Asch quickly scurries back to the markets, the image of the mighty horses still present in her minds eye.

What she saw, the riders, these Deathknights, they looked unbothered by the crowds of angry elves. Asch could hear people whispering, some talking loudly about the new arrivals. She heard from passers that they were elves seeking clemency from Lor'themar. Asch frowns in thought, listening to all the gossip around the markets. Wondering what kind of deal those demons could be cutting.


"Demons..." Asch musing over an apple, then it struck her "no it couldn't-" Asch whips around, looking back to where elves now gathered to clean the scorch marks "Alterius!" People around her scowl, shifting away and hurrying "no- no he's dead!" She insists, clutching the fruit "dead and gone."

 

Alterius and his unwilling companions bring interest from people as they dismount in the royal courtyards, they were men he never knew, but became acquainted with during the uprising. They travelled through Northrend to the unwelcoming embrace of Slivermoon, once his home.

"So that wife of yours-" Devon Wingbloom knew of his plight, they all knew each other. In some ways Alterius considered them friends, at least as much as he could. Devon along with Tlyon Crimsonheart were the only other elves wishing to return to Slivermoon that he knew of the five, others that were made into Deathknights, but stayed to fight under the ebonblade.

"She here?" Devon himself was a father of three girls, all grown and married. His wife was in Undercity, a enchanting teacher, once his papers were signed he could go there and see them all.

"Yes" was all Alterius hisses out, frowning deeply at the bare wall. Alterius told Devon of his wife, young and beautiful Devon called her when shown the hidden drawing he still kept of her. Since he drew the picture her hair had grown out.

Alterius mentioned nothing of last night when he slipped into their house, stood in their bedroom, was called a demon by his wife.

Lor'themar's guard ushered them inside, wary of their strange hue and frosting faces. The Regent lord was properly prepared and did not look any bit shocked by the dead that walked into his private solar.

"What is your purpose?" Lor'themar asks formally, Alterius was sure he knew the reason by now, but for such delicate things as this, it needed to be said clearly "to have citizenship returned so we may serve the Horde, as before" Lor'themar regards Alterius as he speaks, the slight echo in his voice did not betray the baritone Lor'themar so clearly remembered.

"Lieutenant Sunsorrow?" He questions, a twitch of a smile ghosting his lips "yes-" he bows "regent lord" Alterius had few, kind and witty conversations with Lor'themar, Alterius was slightly surprised he remembered him.

Lor'themar frowns, clicking his tongue "I'm sorry this is the fate to befall you" Alterius shrugs indignantly "not one I'd have chosen, but here we are" Lor'themar nods "yes here we are. Now..."


Asch was alone, much like always. She ignores people as she walks passed, where she was going, Asch was not sure. But she walked- walked around the perfect bushes and pavement. A thing she often did when conflicted. A vision- a dream or otherwise of her husband. Eyes a blue as ice, rumoured to be the colour of the Deathknights that arrived in their city. Was it a dream or was it real? Asch wasn't sure what to think. The facts were there, gossiped behind hands but she saw five riders, five elves people said were counselling with Lor'themar. Everyone believed it was a trick, said no one could escape the Lich king. That they would ruin Silvermoon and kill their regent lord, rape their women and kill children as they saw fit.

Asch didn't believe five men could do so much before being stopped, but then, she wondered if they could be killled at all. Were they undead or immortal? Like in the stories the people weaved the day their arrived. Asch didn't believe anything she heard, but pondered over the possibilities as she roamed the wide street.

Thundering steps behind her caused a halt, terrified she pushed back into the bush, gripping thorns with her soft hands, cutting them deeply. The dreadsteed reared to a stop, a ghostly bellow reputed from the creature and started Asch's heart.

Atop the horse was the shadow, the demon claiming to be her husband. The elf, pale as death shushed the horse, slapping it with a wide hand to calm it. Asch's chest heaves, panting loudly as he dismounts; the horse is stiff, waiting without making a move, not even breathing.

"Asch" the voice from the night brought her frightened eyes up from the beast, again the demon was there, looking at her "I'm sorry if I scared you-" his hands go to grab her, Asch releases the thorns, bloody hands holds up to defend herself from him "you're hurt" concern crept in the dreadful echo of his voice. Asch trips into the pavement, falling on her backside.

People peaked at them, watching since the horse made a racket. Asch notices now all the eyes watching them.

"Get away!" She screeches, the demon persists "Asch it's me-" Asch scrambled back, "stop- some one help!" Alterius curses "it's me Asch!" His hands shove into his chest in gesture, a pained look crossing his ghostly features. Frost painted the ground where he stood.

Guards poised beyond them, gripping swords and shields at ready, the demons hands go up, attempting to show no threat to them "Asch please- it's Alterius!" Guards rear up "what is the meaning of this! Get away from her Deathknight" Alterius bares his teeth, hating how he spat the word "this is my wife! I was just trying..." he looks back at her, a hopeless look dawns his features "it's me... me! Asch" once more he tries.

"My husbands dead!" She yells, pushing further away into the pavement, her dress scrapping into the loose rocks "you can't be... he can't be my husband!" Alterius looks between the guards, the people.

"It is me! Look!" Alterius pulls the drawing out, letting it fall open, showing her first. The guards look confused, tilting over to see the parchment.

Asch struggles to breath as she looks at the paper, seeing herself, remembering when she posed for that. The day before he left he asked her to sit so he could sketch her, to have her with him while up in Northrend.

"Until dusk" Alterius cries, Asch flintches to life "and dawn.... our vows-" Asch balls her hands, dirt and blood cump in her throbbing hands "Alterius? Is... it's not possible" Alterius kneels, extending his hand to her, "it's me, my stars" a smile crosses his pale face, Asch's lip quivers "my sun" she gasps, pushing forward.


Alterius meets her half way, embracing her fir the first time in ages "you died" her voice was wet with emotion, tears fall into his neck, Alterius gathers her in a protective embrace "I'm here" Asch cries loudly, babbling out sentences surely no one can understand, she doesn't care about all the people watching the display and the guards gathered around them.

His voice was so unfamiliar, so callous and dark, only hints of the original deep and calming sound comes from the pale pinkish lips.

What came after was awkward, not all the people or the guards, but the next. Alterius helps Asch into his horse, it was cold and unyielding, as was her dead husband as he climbs up behind her, caging her from the sides with his arms. The horse was steady, it was as if it was gliding instead of the thundering passed the pavilions, scorch marks left in its wake. Asch was not bumped or jostled by its racing, quicker then anything she rode before. The speed of the horse was unnatural like it's owner, too quick did they make it to the estate.

Alterius dismounts, helping her down like a gentlemen. It was strange, being back home with him right beside her, watchig him hold himself with the same grace as he possessed when alive.

Alterius walks through the house he once knew, looking at everything Asch had changed, it wasn't much really, just a few tables and furniture pieces. The house was new when they bought it, a grant was given to him and they used it to afford a place such as this, Alterius assumes she was able to keep it because the state supports widows of soldiers. Alterius was a Lieutenant, so it was all easily affordable.

The colours were no longer white, the sheer fabric was pinks and greens, some blues and reds. Friends long before decorated the house to be a honeymoon suite, since he couldn't take her on a trip because of the war. Alterius wanders toward the bedroom, their bedroom.

Here he remembered rose petals all over the room, vials of oils and perverted gifts their friends had left for the virgin couple to discover. Now it was less formal and sexual, a loved space. Alterius was sent away before they could finish their honeymoon.


Few things beside the bed were in this room, a table covered in clothing, a closet half opened revealing many neatly packed things, a carpet was put in Alterius had never seen before and the curtains were jaded. Asch changed the sheets from the wedding white to a nice baby blue, it then occurred to him that Asch might have changed the sheets many times. It had been a very long time since he saw their home.

What he remembered was a home made into a impromptu get away, the kitchen was petaled with roses and stocked with silly food that was more sexual then filling, now it was set to purpose. Alterius felt silly and horrible at the same time. They were young and inexperienced, Asch was a new wife, still learning how to be one, Alterius was a military man that rose to his stature.

Men poked fun at him, he remembers, the day they shipped out his new wife came, kissing him goodbye and wishing him safe. They goaded him, asking all kinds of things, like how it felt to be married or how good it was. Alterius wouldn't dare tell them anything shameful, but did divulge how satisfied he seemed to make her.

One older elf had reminisced about his wife, telling him how excited she was to learn how to be a good wife, Asch was much the same. Mostly she was interested in cooking, they all called him lucky.

Alterius didn't feel lucky then, certainly didn't now. It ate away that she was alone, learning to care for a house and do jobs meant for men, for him.

Asch hovers by him as he looks around the house, twisting her hair, not knowing what to do with her fingers.

Alterius turns, reguarding her again with a new light in his eyes "you're the most beautiful women I've ever seen." Asch is struck by his words, head shaking as her brow furrows, where did that one from?

Alterius answers without a prompt.

"I never got to tell you, before I left. I wanted too." He tisks softly "but I didn't want the soldiers to make fun of me." Asch couldn't think of anything to say as he walks toward her. Awkwardness settled again, Asch wasn't sure what to do. What was she suppose to do?

"We should sleep" she blurts. Regret sets in soon after, Alterius backs a little, a stranger in his own home. "It's late." Asch tells him. Quickly, without thinking Asch opens her palm. Alterius takes her hand, letting her lead.

Asch licks her lips, unsure of what to do now that they've arrived. "You... sleep don't you?" Stupid, as soon as she said it she felt stupid. Alterius was merciful and simply says: "yes." Armour and layers were equally discarded, the sides of the room were harshly divided.
Asch climbs into bed, beckoning him to follow. It had been a long time since someone else had been in the bed with her.

Slight relief washes over Alterius as he gets into bed, his side was hard, unused. As if he thought Asch would be unfaithful.

Asch surprisingly cuddles toward him, bringing her hands to wrap around his middle, like he remembered.

Being with her husband was strange, strange because Asch did not know how to be with him. Now it was stranger then before, his new appearance. Asch found he ate, slept and acted like any blood elf. Word of the deathknight and his wife spread through the districts. Alterius was gawked at, distrust and hatred ran rampet among the people.


Some even curse him on the streets, only trying to accompany his wife on a journey to the markets. Now it was mandatory, Alterius had to stay with his wife because of the death threats. They said horrible things.


"Disgusting- fucking a corpse" she heard one say, "diseased ridden scourge" Asch held her head high as she was always told and stood with her husband as they went down the bazaar.


Asch hurried them, buying what she needed and made sure to duck out of sight until they got him. Alterius was quiet, he seemed upset. Asch knew why.

"Asch..." his warped voice brought her attention, looking at his struck face. "Do you... believe them? What they say?" Asch gaps at him, eyes wide. "Of course not! Pure my husband... you aren't really dead-" he was, but he was nothing like Sylvanas or her forsaken. He was frozen in place, a perfect image of what he once was. Alterius was slow to react, slow todo anything in the moment. But he reached for her. Asch gladly cradled him, wrapping together like a pair of vines.

"I miss you..." his fingers clutch and dig into her back, as if trying to desperately hold onto her. "You don't have to anymore," she whispers quelling his fears. Alterius thought she would fly away, like the beautiful dove his wife was. Thought she would escape his reach and forget about him.

His lips ghosted over her own, the cold breath made her shiver. "Can... can I?" Asch remembered his kisses tasted like honey and love. "Yes..." he carefully pressed his soft, cold lips to hers. Like the first time, but worse. He was scared. Alterius tasted new, like frozen dew drops. Asch clutches his shirt, nervous now herself. Alterius deepens the kiss, happy for the contact. Then pulls away, huffing lightly. "I... sorry." He mutters, embarrassed. Asch only remembers him as eager and wanting to please.

Asch smiles fondly, fixing a stray clump of hair in place. It reminded her of their wedding. They were both eager virgins. Now Alterius was eager for a whole new reason. Asch was too. "It's okay," she promises. "You're just like I remember." Asch smiles at his shock. "A little cold, but still you." Alterius looked as though she gave him the greatest gift. Asch hums presently, nuzzling his clean shaven jaw. "Come on, lets go to our room." Alterius was very happy to do so.

Chapter Text

In a culture such as his, Zephyrius found sex and companionship in every vestibule. Finding a mate however was escaping. Zephyrius was of the highest blooded nobles, Only the best genes were permitted to wed and breed with his own. This was the Shadowdawn way. Family and legacy meant everything. It was an absolute. Zeph had atrociously fine taste, anything else was unacceptable.

His skin was dark ashen purple, a very royal shade. His hair was a slick navy blue, almost black. His eyes were dewy orange and his nose was pointed. He was incredibly handsome. His ears were long and covered in chains. He was a Druid as his right.

His father and mother stood arm and arm to his side, looking passed him and the many newborns laid sleeping in their beds. Zeph was to be betroth. Zeph was uninterested in the babies, his father would chose and his mother would acquire the families favour. Thus far he decided upon pink, pale and purple baby girls. Zeph waited them at the entrance. Another child caught his fathers eyes.

"Unique..." he mutters, long fingernail touching the sleeping babe. "Darling what do you think?" His mother peers over, looking down her nose at the child. His mother studies her critically. "Her colouring is nice. It is hard to say much else." How could they it was a baby. "Weathergold. That is a fine estate." His father muses. All the infants here were of fine estates. In fact, they were not the only house looking for matches. All along the rows elves were picking and poking at newly born infants. "Talk to the mother. We will arrange a deal."


It only took three days to square away the details. The girl was named Asch, she would grow under her mothers tutelage until she bled. Zeph continued to be unconcerned, he only spared a glance at the mother. She was tired and still puffy, but the woman was breathtaking. Light skinned and soft eyed. She only spoke when spoken too and dared not look anyone in the eyes. At least his bride would be taught properly. Zephyrius shook lord Weathergold's hand before departing.


The years dragged on and the only one counting the years was his mother. His brides sixteenth birthday had rolled around and Zeph expectantly sent a gift. A fine silk dress. His mother has kept relations with lady Weathergold. Any day now she said in letters.

That day came with a gift of spoiled sheets. Zeph stared at the bloomed stain on the white silk, raising a brow as his mother excitedly clapped, reading aloud the note sent along. "I hope you enjoy this gift as we had. The planning may finally be put into place" even the date was already set. Zeph was to meet his bride in two days.


Asch cried when she awoke to the stain. Her mother assumed it was the pain of her stomach cramping from her time. It was not.

Asch's mother set aside everything that day to dress her for his arrival. Her hair was pinned in intricate patterns and woven with roses and daisies. Her mother said he was a highly respected Druid and they would acknowledge such. Doing so they put leaves and vines in every strand of her hair. It looked strange when they finished and Asch felt like a grape vine, they kept her face clean of any make up and had her only dress in white. The gown was very concealing, the neck was high and no bare skin showed beyond her wrists. Asch was also given flat clean shoes.

"There!" Her mother said. Stepping back toward the servants helping, "he will be very pleased with you!" The arrangement would only be complete if he agreed, Asch wanted so badly for him to find fault. Even if it meant her being beaten, it would be far better then to be married to a stranger. The night was dragging on and Asch felt the weight of all the flowers straining her neck. "Ah! I see them! They're here!" Asch held back tears.


The estate was much smaller then his own, but Zeph didn't judge them to harshly. The Weathergold's were just as wealthy as his own. They chose to live here because this was their ancestral home. Beyond the gates stood both the lady Weathergold and lord. Zeph could not see his betrothed. Zeph willed his black saber cat to halt, easily sliding off with grace.

Lady Weathergold bows in respect and waits for her husband to speak for them. "Elune-adore sir Shadowdawn." Zeph was now lord of his house, so his father was addressed as such. "Elune-adore lord Weathergold." Zeph inclined his head toward the other couple, "shall we?"

They head inside.

Zeph remembered little of his bride. Although she was an infant it didn't surprise him. As they walked into the hall, the Weathergold's took them to their gardens. Zeph found it very peaceful here, but of course he would. If was a very fine trick they pulled, it also made him wonder if they were distracting him from something.

"Asch!" Lord Weathergold called, commanding his daughter forward. Zeph watches the overhang of vines part as the move into the seated area. His bride was awaiting him there at the entrance, standing with her hands folded and head down.

"Ah! She grew up so nicely," Zeph's father comments. His mother hummed in agreement. Zeph idly ignored their meaningless chatting and sauntered forward, for a moment no one noticed and then all at once it became quiet as a grave.

"Look at me girl." Zeph comanded, at first the girl didn't know what to do, but Zeph was patient. Asch swallows her tears, her betroths voice was shockingly deep. Asch tilts her side neck up, blinking at the man that was to be her husband. He was incredibly handsome, his face was stern and his jaw was almost too perfect. Everything about him screamed order and reserve. Asch felt the weight of his eyes and the heavy silence baring down on her.


Zeph watches her, she had become more beautiful then her mother for certain. The wide doe eyes watch him as he cups her jaw, inspecting her. Thus far he found no faults. Zeph pulls one flower from her hair, watches as the pale strands become loose. Her mother gasps lightly, obviously appalled. It was very inappropriate for ladies to have their hair loose in public. Still, Zeph pulls until most of all the flowers are gone and her hair hangs beautifully around her face.

Stepping one pace back he reguards her, rose in hand twisting between his long fingers. Asch's eyes dart to him and the rose, Zeph smirks as he manipulates the rose in growing longer and turning the petals from red to yellow, the shade of his new brides eyes.

Zeph angles the new flowers to her, beckoning her to take it. Their hands brush as she hastily plucks it from his fingers.

"Yes," he says turning his face to speak to the others. "She will do."

Chapter Text

Zeph didn't hate his sisters, but he didn't like them much either.

Weiss, Fey, Temperance and Stella. They were all younger than he and almost all Watchers. Although, they did look beautiful. Since it was a ceremony involving a Druid everything was covered in flowers, vines and moss.


All four of his sisters were dressed in pink and showered in yellow flowers. Zeph was amused by their pains. Weiss, the second oldest of the five was the most vocal about the dresses. "Will you be silent?" Zeph was rubbing his temple. His siblings insisted to be with him, in his dressing room. Stella adored dresses and was quiet, sweetly brading vines that she snatched from the overhang on the roof.


Zeph reached over, pushing the loose lock of hair behind her pink ear. Stella turns as his finger caress her soft cheek. "Shaha lor'ma, brother." Zeph smiles softly, Stella was still a child, not yet twelve years old.

"Mhm," he hums, Stella puts down her braded vines. "Brother, what does she look like? Is she beautiful?" Zeph grunts, moving himself to face his little sister, "come little star, and I will tell you," Stella hops into his lap, excited like all little girls should be.


Zeph indulged his littlest sister since she was a baby, telling her stories of forest nymphs and faries. The sense of wonder was lost on him, but he wouldn't allow it to disappear in his beautiful little sister. Unlike he and his other sisters, Stella was pink where they were all purple. Her hair was mossy green while her sisters had blues and black hues. Stella was by far his favourite.

"She has very long white hair," Zeph pulls a flower off his sisters head, it amused her greatly to see the flower change and colour. Stella watches with wonder as he turns it from red to white. "Her eyes are sunny yellow," the flower turns yellow, "and she is as pale as mother moon." This time he turns the rose to a gorgeous silver, shining in the lamp light. Stella claps, ecstatic as he places the rose back, nearly tucking it away into the windings of her intricate hair style.

"Will you have babies? I like babies! I want to be an aunt!" Zeph tensed a little. "Yes little star, many I hope." It wasn't a lie. He was suppose to have children, it was his duty too do so for his family. Zeph wanted children, pretty baby girls and proud handsome boys. "I can't wait to see the new Lady Shadowdawn, what about you old man, are you excited to see your child bride?" Weiss was snapping like a crocodile, festering like an open wound.

"Enough, don't be rude." Temperance hisses, Zeph stares flatly, "what? He's fifty years older than her." Weiss was always a snippy girl, angry about many things, but never having a reason for it. She was privileged to be this way. Zeph never thought it was a good excuse, but her hot blooded fury kept her alive.

Still, she was his sister. "Yes. Weiss, I am. And I am much older then you. Duty is duty. You yourself are lucky father didn't give you away like a broodmare." This insulted Weiss greatly, and it showed. "This girl is to be my wife. The lady of the house. She had no choice in the matter and you were too close to having the same fate. Don't insult her." Weiss seemed properly chastised. As per usual.

Zeph was very clever. Far more clever then his sisters. Weiss was just angry and always tried to argue with him. She got mad when he scolded her like their father, but she was troublesome.

It was mainly why she called him old man.

Fey stayed quiet, off to the side, out of the four sisters, Fey and Temperance were the sweetest and the most quiet. Fey adored her brother and spoke to him often. Zeph made it a priority to be involved with all his sisters. Make time and learn about their days.
Fey was always quiet, even her laughter was light and sweet. She loved being a watcher but wasn't very outspoken.

Temperance was defensive, she was always throwing herself in Weiss and Zeph's arguments.


"Come, it's time."


Asch sunk in her chair, the dress was made of soft silk, leaves and sheer net made up the train. It had a high neck, also made of leaf designs. Her hair was again up in a bun full of flowers. Her father opened the door and it was time.


Zeph stood, his robes were thick and the massive shoulderguards almost made him slump. Zephyrius wouldn't dare. He stood tall, his back protested from the weight, but he stood tall. The crown on his head felt scratchy, it too was made of leaves and stif sticks.

The isle opened up, his bride came through and the slow strums played. Zeph inhaled, puffing his chest. Asch's hand rests stiffly on her fathers arm. Until they got to him, then it was pressed into his own hand. She was shaking and her hands were slightly sweaty, but he understood.

"Who takes this woman?"

"I do. Zephyrius Shadowdawn."


Zephyrius was tall, almost imposingly so. He didn't smile at her. It was like he had no emotion. Asch almost shrivelled under the weight of his stare. "I do." His voice was so deep.

"And do you take Zephyrius Shadowdawn, to be your husband, your guardian and life partner?"

"I... I do!" She blurted the last part out by accident. People watching thought she was just being eager by the sudden burst and loudness, they cooed and awed, thinking she was excited rather then nervous and terrified. They turn, Zeph making them do so.

"You my now kiss your bride."

Asch tilts her head up. Zephyrius meets her lips. His lips were very soft. His hands held her waist, weightful. He held her very firm. Asch trembles, her hands reach for something, they claw into his robes, too nervous for anything else.

He was so warm, all too soon he parted. Zeph loosened, his hand pressed into her back.

Xxx

Zephyrius scowls at his father, glancing over at his new wife, watching her sit. "You will not do that too her. I will not allow it." His father frowns back at him. "It's tradition boy!" Zeph hated when his father demeaned him as if he as a child. "She's a child! Barely of age and you want strange drunk men to strip her for some tradition?!" This tradition was barbaric. Men would call for the bedding, have the fun of stripping the bride naked and giving her to the husband. And too who it mattered would watch to make sure of consummation. That was unacceptable to Zephyrius.

"She's already terrified. I won't allow it."


His father made a face, he conceded, but he had a look about him. One Zeph knew meant it wasn't over.


Still, he swept away, thundering toward his wife. She was staring at her lap. "Have you eaten enough?" Asch looks up at him. "Y-yes I have, thank you." She was too polite. Zephyrius appreciated order and reserve, but he also had four sisters with all different and bazar personalities. Zephyrius was suppose to share his life with her for the rest of... forever. He wanted to see something more then a timid girl.

"The bedding!" His father's deep voice reverts off all the walls and, seconds after all the male guests voices as well. Asch flinches badly, panting out worried noises of fright. Zeph growled in anger, "come here- behind me." Asch sucked in a shaky breath, eyes pouring tears. "There will be no bedding!" His voice, it was so loud, so angry. His hand was holding her, pressing into her hip. His thumb was pressing so hard, but it didn't hurt.

"No one will not touch her." The fury Zephyrius had in his face was mighty and consuming.

"Come now boy, it's her tradition!" Zephyrius knew many of these men now pawing at his table. They were all heads of noble families. "Brother..." Weiss was the one to get his attention, she was angry but also looked very worried. "Ill stay with her." Zeph fumes "no I won't allow this!" He quietly snarls, Weiss glares at him, about to speak but she was interrupted.

"Give her here, don't make us wait boy." His father gave him a knowing look, one that said he wasn't going to allow any more of this. Zeph let go and glared at his father as Asch was yanked from behind him. Weiss was hot on their heels as they lead his wife into the canopy behind the dinning tables.

Weiss watches as the terrified girl is poked and groped out of her wedding dress. The watcher in her elf hatred for this ceremony, but didn't dare speak against it. It didn't take them very long to strip her down into nothing but the thin silky scrape of cloth Zephyrius was only suppose to see. Weiss hisses, smacking their hands away. "You've done your purpose, leave the girl alone." Some groaned at her annoyed, some didn't listen. To those that thought it wise, she hit very hard.

"We're just having our fun," one noble griped. Weiss gave a cruel, almost twisted smile. "And you've had it. Her purity is for my brother only- now leave!" Weiss was a shrill woman, demanding and beautiful. Two things that men found both annoying and hard to ignore. Weiss watches them go, grumbling about unfairness. It was all disgusting. "T-thank you s-so much" the poor girl behind her hiccuped. Weiss reguards her. She was crying, her hair falling in waves of white. All the flowers crumpled at her feet. Weiss felt terrible for arguing with her brother.


This poor girl could have been her once. Weiss swallows, giving her best smile. "Here let me help-" there wasn't much they could do. The wedding dress was long gone with her father, taken away somewhere. Weiss helped untangle he hair a little, getting the knots out best she could with her fingers. "Come lets get you into the bed..." the wedding bed was massive. All the sheets were white and soft. Weiss pulled off all the unnecessary pillows and drew back the heavy comforter before reguarding her brothers wife, now curled up in the middle of the bed. She looked small, although given the size Weiss imagines anyone looked small in that bed.

"He will be kind," Weiss promises, her brother had a gentle heart. He liked to hide it behind his nature. "I have to leave now. It'll be alright. No one can get inside- I will make sure." Asch nods quietly, letting her go. Weiss felt awful, a pit in her stomach.


Zephyrius was very angry, stif as girls giggled about him, removing his robes and crown. They touched his arms, squeezing the muscles as they tittered. Zeph just wanted this to end. They pulled his heavy robe away, leaving him only in pants. The girls weren't permitted to remove those however and for upset at how quickly it ended. Zephyrius was grateful and unconcerned as he pushed passed them into the room.

What he found didn't surprise him. His poor little wife was huddle in the middle of their bed, wiping tears away with the heel of her hand. Sniffling softly. "Are you alright?" Of course she wasn't, but Zeph didn't know what else to say. It got her attention, she tried to smile at him, "y-yes.. your sister was very k-kind." Relief filled him. Weiss would always argue and fight with him, but came through when he needed it most.

"I'm so sorry this was done to you." And he was, Zephyrius was furious and he would be discussing tonight at length with his father. Zephyrius never understood the need to shame the bride like this. "It's.. alright, it's not your fault." His duty was to protect her.

The door opened again behind Zeph, another elf, only slightly shorter then Zephyrius bowed deeply. Asch was puzzled, staring at the other. They were suppose to ignore him, but the mortification upon her face made the guest speak up. "I am here to assure consummation." Zeph nodded once, acknowledging him before striding forward. "He will only stay until he is sure we are joined," Zephyrius knew that it didn't help.


Pushing his personal feelings aside, Zeph steeled himself. He would what was needed and nothing more. Asch yelps as he pulls her under him, hiking up the little dress. Zephyrius took a moment to admire his wife before parting her legs. He allowed her to keep the dress pooled at her belly, but Zephyrius removed his pants completely, unashamed of his own nudity. "It will hurt," he says, gracing her with a moment to compose herself before moving forward. Asch cried out as his forced forward. Zephyrius did everything he could to ignore her until he heard the door close.


Then showered her face in apologetic kisses, pecking away her salty tears. Asch whimpered, miserable. "I'm sorry," he whispers, removing himself. The blood dotted the silk sheets, smeared all along his dark coloured cock. Asch lays there in tears, snivelling. Zephyrius felt wretched. He was about to turn away let her hate him as a hand came to stop him. Below him, Asch swallows her tears, rubbing them away with her other hand "please..." she whispers, "come b-back." Zephyrius was astonished and showed it upon his face, "what?!" He doesn't know what else to say, "why?"


"It's my duty as your w-wife to give you children," she says it as though it was and easy thing to do. Her soft hand caresses his face, pulling him to her. Their foreheads rest together can Zephyrius only stare, "please" she whispers again, "you are my husband."

Zephyrius frowns against her, feeling his skin bunch along her forehead, "you... you want this?" Asch nods against him.

Asch was terrified of him, even now. What she was more scared of was her father. Zephyrius was handsome and showed her kindness, if not for her intervening he would have turned away and left her alone. But they couldn't do that. Both knew it was important to have children. They were now sharing their lives. Asch didn't want to be terrified of her husband forever. It seemed to Asch Zephyrius didn't either.

"I will be more gentle," he says to her. Asch shakes her head, "you don't have too. It doesn't hurt now." She was lying. It was throbbing like an opened wound. He looks suspicious of her. This time, Zephyrius goes slow, careful. Asch gasps, the ache increases, Asch digs her body into the pillows, whining out as Zephyrius fills her. Zephyrius mouths at her neck, biting the flesh. "Shh," he mutters around her throat. Asch bites a cry, taking comfort him his strong hands on the back of her thighs. Zephyrius easily fit inside the passage easier by blood.

Zephyrius likes the way her hands cling to him. The soft noises swim in his ears. "Zeph..." she gasps. For the first time his name was spoken from her lips. Zephyrius kisses harder, pushes his hips harder. The pain melted into pleasures and his name was sung into the beds canopy.


The morning brought Zephyrius' rage. It was blistering and destroyed everything in its wake. The first he turned it on was his father. The wave of absolute fury was astonishing. A bear raged, so would Zephyrius. "You dared after I told you! What do you think this is? A game? Was she your fun? That's my wife you fucking fool!" Zephyrius was lord of his house, his father held no power.

"It's tradition boy! All girls go through it-" "and my sisters? Would you allow that? Allow them to be touched by drunks?" This awoke something alive in his father. "They are my daughters-" "and that was my wife. I am yet your only son and you let them befoul the lady of our house. She will carry my heirs. And the future of this house and you fuckinf encouraged that disgusting-" Zephyrius hisses out, so enraged he can't think.

"I'm taking her to my home. And I will not see her disgraced again."

Chapter Text

Asch watches him pace with a mix of pity and anger.

Kil'jaeden had her chained to the floor, locked at each limb. Her clothes were in tatteres, almost falling to pieces.

Asch's own misfortune stares her right in the face, but all she managed to say was, "how could you?" As if he'd have an explanation for all the horrors. He whips around, the foul green of his smouldering eyes burning boldly at her in wide fury. "I did what was necessary!" His voice was befouled. Awful in its own hellish way. Gravel scrapped across rock. Asch forgot what he used to sound like. "You had a choice, you could have fled, but you forsake your own people instead... your own wife-" Asch broke off in a sob, her whisper almost silent to any ear. Kil'jaeden heard her and raged.

"You believe yourself so high and mighty- you're all fools if you believe Sargeras will fall to your light!" Asch narrows her eyes.


"You have." Kil'jaeden lurches forward, stomping his massive hooves into the rocky ground and advancing himself so close to her face, Asch can taste the fel consuming him. The burning scar upon his face leaked tainted blood. Kil'jaeden's wings flapped, exposing the shreds and broken bones that was left. The champions had won, leaving Kil'jaeden to lick his wounds in the bellows of some dank hell, where he held his wife captive.

Argus, their poor home world hung meekly above them, burning and dripping. Looking as though it was due to fall right out of the sky. Asch had fled from that accursed place many years ago, but Illidan saw fit to gut the space between their worlds. Seeing it now, looking at it burn freshly. It hurt more then the day she watched it explode with demons and war. So many died. So many wept as they clung to the glass, begging for their people.

Velen was on his knees that day, crying silent tears as their beautiful home was ravaged and raped. Asch remembers clinging to him, sobbing.

Even now the gash was still fresh, renewed not only by Illidan, but by her husband as well. His illusion had worn away, he was no longer a massively tall Eredar, but one who was only a head taller then his wife. As Asch remembers him being. His blood dotted the floor as he stares her down, snarling foully.

"You are a fool." He tells her once again. Asch felt deeply hurt by him, remembering how they used to be. "Why am I here?" She demands, instead of thinking of the past. It was better where it was, out of her mind and best left forgotten. "To amuse me," his grin was sickly, "don't you remember? You used to be very good at it." Asch frowns, eyes widening as his voice grew taunting.


"Don't tell me you forgot already?" He mocks, taking a claw and running it along her face. Asch did all she could to push away, but he followed her every move like he knew what she do before she did. "You use to wake me up at insufferable hours, begging me." Asch swallows a lump, jaw tightening harshly as his black nail curved around her chin. "You were a wanton little whore. Tell me- who do you spread your legs for now?" His smirk was wide and unforgiving. Asch had never once let herself be touched. Not as though many were interested. The wife of the deceiver. The defiled. Asch let a tear slip down her cheek and he laughs.

"You weep for him? Such wasted tears. He will not see them when I am finished." Asch trembles, shaking her head as much as he allows. "Stop it!" Kil'jaeden laughs again, a cruel sounding noise. "Do you give him what you did me?" His claw cuts the scraps away, exposing her beaten and bruised flesh to his feasting eyes. "When I find him, I'll let him watch. Show him all the things I did to you." Despite his wounds, Kil'jaeden pushes her down, forcing her legs open, "make him see how good you take my cock and then, I will kill him." Asch can only cry into the stone floor as he has his way.

Asch remembers those nights. Kil'jaeden always liked too indulge her. Only because he knew just how much she wanted to make a family. Asch always spoke about a little boy, with his skin and dark hair or a baby girl with adorable pig tails with her white hair.

Kil'jaeden once wanted many children. Now Asch wondered what he wanted. In his wake was destruction.

Kil'jaeden pushed her back, forcing her down while his other hand curled up her inner thigh, making her hips raise to his groin. His beard brushed her neck, the tentacles curling dangerous tight. "Say my name- like you used too," the last part was hissed angrily. Asch cried loudly, quivering "say it," he demands, squeezing her.

"Jay...!" She gasps, Kil'jaeden hums pleasantly. "Good girl."


Asch's hands were bound tightly but the rest of her limbs were free. The room was bathed in darkness and it was almost like it used to be. Kil'jaeden laid on his side, his broken wings faced her. Asch could almost see them. Crippled beyond repair. Demon magic would fix them, somehow.


Xxx

Kil'jaeden slams the door, turning his attention to her immediately. "You..." he starts, tapering off as he approaches. It's as though he doesn't know what to say. Kil'jaeden hesitates, watching her and choosing his words carefully. "My spies cannot find your paramour." Asch stares at him, "of course not," she barks. "There isn't one!" Kil'jaeden looks oddly baffled by this, both angry and happy somehow.

"You never found another lover?" Asch scowls at him, almost forgetting their situation as a whole. As if it was them, back home in their beautiful villa arguing like they used too. This time it wouldn't end in sex and laughing. "No!"

"Why?!" He snarls insidiously, looking borderline confused. Asch knew that look, remembered it on his old face. Kil'jaeden used to pout when he was confused, his thick brows would dip just enough that he had a stuble frown, his lip juts just so that it almost looks adorable. Now it was jaded by demonic features, but Asch could still see it.

Why had Asch not remarried? Found another man? She was scared. Velen offered her annulment, but she said no. Because?

"Our people don't believe in divorce." That was true, while it was allowed, most times it wasn't needed. Eredar believed in soulmates, if you were chosen, they were your mate.

Kil'jaeden, for better or worse was Asch's chosen. Even despite the fact that he didn't choose her.

Kil'jaeden snorted, laughing at her. "Oh I see how sweet," his voice was taunting, full of laughter. "My wife believes I can change, don't you?" His dark rumbling laughter reverts off the cave. "You stayed married to me all these years because you still love me..." his wings clapped grossly. Asch doesn't say anything. Doesn't look at him.


"My my. What an interesting development," he moved like a snake, snaring her ankle and yanking her forward. Asch yelps, terrified "how much do you still love me?" Asch shakes her head, "stop!" Kil'jaeden bites her, looming like a gargoyle. Asch cried out, "I thought you liked it when I bit you?" His teeth were wet with blood, the marks were deep in her blue skin. "You liked it when people saw you with my mark- hmm..." Kil'jaeden purrs, "interesting indeed. How would Velen see you now? Broken under my heel... I think I'll give you back. Once I've finished..."


Xxx

Asch was handled without care, dropped nearby deliverance point. Forced to walk up the hill toward the safety of the army.

Illidan saw her first, tilting his massive head. Then he yelled after Khadgar and Velen. Velen pushed to get to her first, covering her with his own body. "Bring her clothes! I need to take her to Dalaran at once!"

 

Chapter Text

The eclipse of Argus hung like a wound, gushing with new and old emotion. The burning embers of Kil'jaeden's body float at Dobera's feet.


He whirled his massive body, his tail ripping at the embers. Dobera's nose was filled with burning flesh, putrid so close.

"What have you done?!"

"A means to an end." Was his only defence for this atrocity, "a means- you're fucking mad!" "Perhaps-" Dobera roars for silence, which is given. "This is unspeakable!" In his train were many Draenei, many who escaped like him from Argus. They were inconsolable, wailing and staring at their dead home. Dobera and his party were thousand and thousands older then Illidan was, but he glances at them, as matron would stare at unruly children.

"I have brought Argus so we may finally rid our world of demons." His reason was righteous, but Dobera did not care.

"Did you overlook the pain it would cause my people? No one has suffered under the legions foot longer then the Draenei!" Illidan turns, fianlly looking at him as if equal.

"I will not deny your importance. You were instrumental in Kil'jaeden's defeat. However this outweighs your pain and importance," Illidan spits his last words, Dobera couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What then, you expect me to storm my home, fight your war and retake the demon hell because you've brought me the convenience?!" Dobera aims his mace at illidan's face, snarling.

"I killed Gul'dan, I stood and suffered Kil'jaeden- they were my victories. You were just there!" Illidan returned his feral snarl with equal measure. Dobera however was not scared. "I defeated you once Betrayer. I will do it again." Dobera did not like Illidan, because Illidan held no love for any people, naive he was to think Illidan at least respected Dobera's people enough not to hurt them like this, but he has been grossly wrong.

"I've no doubt you will, Defiler's end." He used the title mockingly. As if Illidan was also calling him a betrayer. It was true. Now both Achimonde and Kil'jaeden were defeated, by Dobera's own hand. In a way, it was a betrayal. Dobera huffs, Lowering his mace, thrusting it into his belt. "You know not the grief you cause- don't care. But fine, Stromrage. I will once again walk the maw of the damned and fight your battles and kill your enemies."

Illidan laughs at him, crossing his arms "they are not your enemies?" Dobera reguards the flying embers, catches one in a gentle fist.

"No. They are my brothers."


Velen had always wise words, nothing he said was without purpose or meaning, Dobera envied him so. "You do not celebrate," he observes, coming to sit with Dobera. Dobera inclines his head, a half bow in respect to his high priest. "There is nothing to celebrate." Velen raises a brow, "it was a great victory. You saved Azeroth."

"At what cost?" Dobera's mutters into his ale.

"Do you miss them? Kil'jaeden and Archimonde?" Dobera felt his heart burn the day he cut down Achimonde and today it felt numb and hollow.


"Yes, with all my heart." Velen was a confidence, he wouldn't consider this traitorous talk or scold him for loving Legion scum.

"Draenei!" Illidan was leaning against a pillar. Staring up at the mess of a planet he summoned. Velen touches his back, allowing him leave. Dobera heaves up, scowling.

"What, elf?" Illidan snarls at his tone. "I need to know you're solid." Illidan was aksking him... Dobera curls his lip.


But then slumps.


"You hunters... all the same," Illidan quirks a brow at the now defeated tone, "you believe yourselfs martyrs that you're the only ones who've sacrificed anything."


"Oh? What have you-" "don't." Even though it wasn't demanding, Illidan shuts up anyway. Dobera hangs his head, sighing brokenly.

"You want to know what I've given? I've given my mother, two brothers, four sisters and my children." Dobera can remember all their faces. "How many children?" It as an honest question, so he answers.

"Three. A boy and two girls. None of them lived to see five years." It was a ruthlessly short time. Dobera was almost as old a Velen and his children hadn't even seen their fifth year. "Your wife?" Illidan asks, "she lives. As a Paladin, her name is Asch. You have met her many times. Dobera knows he doesn't remember. But it doesn't bother him.

"I'm sorry. She should not have suffered the loss of your young." It was a real apology, one Dobera could accept.

"I did not bring Argus here to bring you pain," Illidan whispers, "I brought it here to end this." Dobera shakes his head, "you have brought ruin. If we succeed it will bring the Titan down upon us. We have spat at his doorstep. Sargaras will come for us." Illidan huffs, looking pompous and proud. "We will defeat him, like his legion dogs!" Dobera hears childish naivety when he speaks.

Dobera wants to get mad, let his anger wash like a total wave until Illidan is swallows while. Instead, "I am solid, Illidan." It was the first time he used the betrayers name. "It is time to go home."

Chapter Text

"Who knows?" Illidan squints at his mate, staring at the bulge of fel green and yellow inside her. Asch was not even trying to hide it.

Illidan was torn between his demon and his elf. The elf side was begging him to kill it, save his mate. The demon was purring, a dark desire to see it born. "Just you," she huffs, lately Asch was puffy, poets call it glowing. Illidan calls it a gift. Her hair was shinier and her breasts were bigger. Visibly it was enjoyable but he couldn't bring himself to like it.

"Why?" Illidan recoils a little bit, "it's a demon. Do you want people to know your carrying a demon?" This argument was the same one they've had for three days now, different but always about the demon within her. "It's your baby. Our child. I'm proud!" She cradles her belly, smiling happily at him, despite her angry eyes.

 

It took nearly two hours until all of the grove, Mal and Tyrande had figured out the pregnancy. It took an hour longer then Illidan expected and he was prepared for it. The wraith of Tyrande was nothing compared to Mal's. Both were furious, both were yelling.

Saying he was careless, stupid. That this was wreckless and that he shouldn't have fathered a monster.

Illidan snapped, "shouldn't have fathered a monster?!" His bellow was loud and terrible. "It's a fetus! It's... it's a fetus-" Illidan just realized. It's just a fetus.


Illidan, after not explaining anything leapt away and flew to where he knew his wife was. "Asch..." he got her attention, she waddled away from her students. "I... was wrong." That was all she needed to hear. The fel inside of her was too bright to ignore. It made Illidan uncomfortable. Angry, but then he remembered Tyrande calling it a monster. His whole attitude changed on a dime whenever he remembered that.

It grew within her, she wasn't dying for it to grow so Illidan relented on that front.


In fact he was able to start sleeping better

 

Argus was putrid, burning and hateful. Illidan had no choice but to uproot his mate from her place, because she insisted upon coming.

Now the den and his demon hunters were covered in flowers. It wasn't unpleasant, the hunters quite literally stopped and smelt the flowers. It was a calm atmosphere. Asch was happily sitting on pillows, tending to his injured scouts when it happened.

All at once the flowers died and Asch made the faintest of sounds of pain before the most vile colored liquid gushed from between her legs.

"Asch?!" Illidan was guarding the entrance to the den when it happened, one of his hunters grabbed her before she fell to the ground. The ooze split from her and painted the dirt floor, covering an alarmingly large area. It was gooey, Illidan saw. The hunters had stepped in it, making an effort to move her. It was still leaking from her as they got her down on the furs.

"I-Illidan!" Asch was scared, confused. Illidan frantically looked, trying to find an answer in her face. Than it struck him, he looked at her swollen stomach. There was only black, no living green or bright yellow, it was blacker then a hellish void hole. Illidan moves into action, pushing the hunter out of his way. "Find the Paladin and bring him here!" He barks, fixing himself in a kneeling position, spreading her weak legs. "O-our baby?!" Asch tires to sit up, but one of his hunters knows better and holds her down by the shoulders. "Push." He commands, Asch is terrified, he can see it in her face. "It's alright," he lies, "just push!" Asch howls in pain, louder then he's ever heard before. The fel green liquid gushes on his hands, painting them almost completely. It was an absolute mess.


Turalyon came in a burst of light from the transport, Illidan had no time to answer the questions he obviously had, "keep her alive!" It took only moments before the grand exarch set to purpose, bathing the elf with light essence.

Illidan could feel the soft flesh as it came out of his mate, it was almost boneless, already lifeless and she struggled to produce he rest of their child's body. Illidan ripped away at a hunters cloak, making it into a make shift blanket. Already that hunter was hissing for people to disperse, intending to give privacy. Turalyon was focusing his healing to much to notice the eerie silence that fell over the few remaining hunters. Illidan felt it all too well as Asch screamed her lungs out, finally dispelling his spawn.

"Paladin!" Illidan screeches, aiming the weightless baby away from his mate in a flash of speed. Turalyon stumbles up away, going to him as he placed it on the makeshift wooden table.

"Save it!" He bellows. Turalyon gapes at the lifeless thing, his hands were shaking, Illidan shoves him toward the table, "save it." He doesn't repeat himself again. Illidan cages any sight of the table with his vast wings, willing his nerves to stay calm. He refused to look at its aura, not when he finally saw what exactly came out of his wife.

It looked just like any elf. It's ears were longer then it's cubby little arms and it's face was soft and fat. It had black hair, like he did and it had all it's fingers and toes. No claws, or deformities, not even spikes that littered his own body. It was a boy. They had a boy. It wasn't a monster, or a demon spawn. It was completely natural looking.

"It's... it's too late!" Turalyon expels, a guilt ridden. Illidan won't accept that. "Bring it back!" Illidan isn't in control, his voice is warped beyond recognition, "your light is worth damn if you cannot do something so simple!" Turalyon glares, but tries again despite Illidan.

"Illidan..." Asch is calling for him, her voice is weak and wrecked. The hunter behind her has no trouble quelling her attempts to escape. Illidan forces himself to look back. The flowing of the liquid has stemmed off, other putrid birthing messes start forming into a heavy puddle of mucus and discharge. Illidan glances once more at the table before moving to her.

"Clean this." He tells the hunter, hoisting Asch up in his arms. It smelt natural, at least what Illidan remembers, Tyrande had delivered babies before and said a bit of blood and strange colourless and oily liquid was good. Illidan cuts off the wet mess her dress had become and stuffs Asch under a few piles of furs, staving off the unusual chill Argus had. Asch could barely keep her eyes open. "Sleep," he begs, pushing her sweaty hair away. Asch trembles, grabbing his hand weakly. Illidan lets her, upset by how hard a time she was having moving his hand. Illidan helps, locking their fingers together, she was alright, she wasn't going to die, but seeing her so weak was painful.

"Please," she rasps, "is... is it o-okay?" Illidan offers a small smile, nodding curtly, "yes. Now please sleep." Illidan did not like lying, but for now he had too, she couldn't handle it right now. There was still a small hope that the paladin and his light could save their child, Illidan would only allow hope. For he did not know what kind of devastation it might bring if it didn't survive.


Illidan takes care of the mess between her legs, lovingly cleaning her thighs. The hunters were no where to be seen.

Then his ears caught the most gentle sound, a coo no louder then wind blowing through the air. "Illidan," it was a solid call, one that had relief and weariness. The coo sound was made again and Illidan moved, looking over the paladin's shoulder. The baby fidgeted, looking around him with big, fel smoking eyes.

"I will leave. Call me if anything is wrong." Illidan was passed paying attention to him, Illidan cupped his hands on either side of the baby, lifting it up to his chest and examining it. It looked at him with demonic eyes and wiggles his hands to try and touch Illidan.

Illidan dips his head, letting the baby caress his face. He smiles toothless at his father, happily slapping his leathery skin, it was amusing too see the joy in the babies face. Illidan strokes his fingers into the cloak, rubbing the soft parts of the babies back. He was so very small.


Illidan brings him to the bed, he remembers Tyrande bouncing babies to sleep so he tries, holding the baby to his chest and shaking his hand just enough to bounce him. Illidan watches him drool, wetting his skin. The baby makes little noises, the florescent eyes close, drooping as his little fists curl.


It was silent, the planet was eerie and cold, strange but Illidan could appreciate the quiet.

Chapter Text

Ares whiped blood off his sword and spat in the ground, heaving his head menacingly as he eyed the bodies. He was named after the god of death, because when he walked bodies fell. Ares walked, foot crunching bones as he stomped along.


"Gods boy." His commander was always astonished, "how many persons are on you?" Ares glances at his armour. Leaking with blood and even bits of flesh. "What?" He shrugs, the commander shakes his head "you've got something in your hair," Ares swipes at his head, blood was caked to the flesh, chunks of unrecognizable bits came flying off into the ground, surely it was flesh of some kind. "Disgusting. How do you stand it?" Ares was a blood elf, however he was born and bred into war and killing.

A child of Odin worthy enough of the name, Ares. As a child the way of the warrior was drilled into him. Made his flesh stone and blood burn with rage. Ares was ruthless, messy and uncaring. He would honour his foes, a swift death but he was not kind.

"Go wash that filth away boy! We dine with the regent lord!"


Ares had sun kissed skin, scarred and burnt in many places. The women around him swoon and giggle as they help him out of his plate. The commander insisted they be here, that he didn't know how to scrap off the bloody mess. They aren't unwelcome. Ares winks at the girls, groping them every chance they gave. It took them a while to get Ares in the tub, but finally he sat naked and covered in bubbles.

"My lord, please face me..." the girl had a soft, nervous voice. Ares looks at her with a dangerous smile, "face you? Face me-" Ares winds his wet arm around her, yanking her down into his lap. The girl cries out, splashing as the warrior laughs, kissing her neck lewdly.

The other girls laugh, excited by his lax behaviour and clamber in, getting their dresses wet. "My lord!" The girl in his lap gasps, face flushed "there now," he grins nipping her long ear, "better?" Ares was handsome, he knew this. His face as chiseled, without a fault or even scar.

His hair was black as death, though somehow you could still see the blood all along his skull, the girls lovely white wash clothes proved he had more blood on him then in him, stained completely red. "We are finished my lord," one timid girl said not meeting his eye. "Are you? Pity, I thought you'd like to stay..." he tilts a long, groomed brow. All the girls look at him as if he's silly, "we can't my lord... we are ladies in waiting-" the timid girl was interrupted by another, one who was more stern and wringing her dress loose of water. "Our lady decides who we give our virginity too."


The difference between savages and warriors was that warriors held an honour code. Ares inclined his head toward the other elf, understanding. "I will tempt you no longer then." The ladies smile, the one speaking to him looked rather grateful. "Come girls. We have done what is asked. My lord-" she bows, Ares watches the pretty girls scurry away, now bored.

Ares did not own painted armour, as a warrior is was disgraceful to have such a thing. Lord Lor'themar Theron didn't seem insulted by his black armour or massive swords. Dinner was interesting, Lor'themar was quite facinated with his ventures, the lord regent himself was a battle hardened archer, but what interested Ares was his work with a sword. Lor'themar spoke of close combat, Ares was interested for the first time that night.

"But enough of my tales. What does my commander have you doing these days?" Lor'themar was not a squeamish noble. Ares could speak to him of war and death and the other wouldn't even bat an eye. "Killing, mostly." He shrugs effortlessly, people around them pause, appalled. "Demons and the cultists. We made a new front on the shore." Lor'themar beams, looking happily surprised. "How fortunate. How is the new land treating you?" Ares didn't like it. It was wet in Azsuna, hot in Stormheim, Hard to breath in Highmoutain and to jungle-like in Val'sharah. Suramar was just yellow and suffocating and the shore smelt like fel fire and death.

But Ares was calmed by battle so he couldn't say it was all awful. "Fair enough I suppose." Ares didn't like talking much, Lor'themar didn't make him talk a lot. It was one of the reasons he liked the regent lord. "Mhm that's good too hear." After that Lor'themar left him alone, didn't ask anymore questions, but sat and drank with him for two hours before finally saying goodnight. Ares didn't want to sleep yet, didn't feel tired.


Among them as company of all kinds. Company that would come home with him. Ares from his spot gets the attentions of one girl. She's confident and very pretty. She saunters over with her hips swaying, "hello handsome," her voice was like sin. Ares smiles, slow and devious. "Hello sweetheart," the girl is bold and perches herself in his lap, "you're a Lieutenant" she coos, batting her long eyelashes. "I am. What are you?" Her red lips stretch into a pleasant smile, "bought and paid for. Shall we?" Ares likes the way
she talks, but doesn't move to accept her offer yet. "Is everyone?" Around them were many pleasure workers, something that was often at a nobles party. The girl hums with interest, "aren't I enough?" She giggles at him, playing with a clump of his long hair, "I don't mind. So long as you don't play favourites."

Ares grins at her answer, "how about him?" His cocks his head, the girl looks. "Oh, yes of crouse-" she jerks her hand, getting the others attention. This one was handsome and very lady like. His hair was groomed and his silks were sheer. "Yes my lord?" Ares adjusts the girl in his lap, pulling her tighter to his body, "have you ever had a cock in your ass?" The girl was delighted by his question and laughed very loudly at it.

The pretty boy seemed nervous to answer, "y-yes..." Ares nods "good. Come with me."


Ares was disturbed in the very early morning. The pretty boy draped over him was shocked awake and nervous as his commander eyed them. The girl however acted as though this was par for the course. "Deplorable you know," his commander chided, shaking his head in disapproval. "Come, its time too go."

Chapter Text

The den was near silent as the hunters wearily came back, drifting in toward their master and examining the baby. They weren't very good at hiding it, so Illidan let them all have a good look. It was like they've never seen a baby before. Maybe it was that or the fact they've never seen a demon baby.


The aura was more green then yellow and he looked tainted, but outwardly he looked just like any normal baby would. The hunters were curious. He didn't allow them to touch or linger, it was already bad enough Asch was sleeping because elves need to imprint on their mothers, form a bond. Illidan let the baby sleep on her chest she. He wasn't wiggling so much. It had been maybe four hours since the birth and he was quiet for a newborn. Illidan expected crying and fussing.

But the baby just slept for the most part, only waking up to gurgle and coo. Illidan coos back, as strange as it seems to him it felt natural. It was most likely his parental urges coming to surface.

Illidan knew he would be hungry, he couldn't do anything about it but Asch was dead asleep and it was hard to wake her like that. The females in his Illidari were cooing at him, offering to assist him. The demon part of the women wanted to indorse the spawn, the other half, the elven part was attracted to him, seeing him with a baby. It was no secret just how many of his Illidari were interested in him. It got worse when he brought his mate and now with a baby? It made him delectable.


Illidan touches his wife, increasing the pressure as he bounced the baby against his chest. "Mhm..." she mumbles, blinking open her shiny eyes. "My love," he smiles, watching her get her barrings. Illidan rests the baby on her chest again, watching her become confused then gasp, "its- Illidan!" Illidan hums, petting the babies back, "he's okay." Asch shutters, crying, "perfect he's perfect."

"You've been asleep for some time, he may be hungry," Asch mewls, "is he?" Illidan was struck with arousal and affection as he heard her motherly voice. It made him feel strange but it felt right. Illidan banks his wings, bathing his wife and child behind their influence. The baby latches on, suckling in earnest. "How long was I asleep?" She asks, touching his soft hair. "Four hours. He was very good, very quiet." Illidan was always told he was the quiet baby out of he and Mal. It did not surprise him that his child was rather shy.

"Does he have a name?" Illidan shakes his head, "I didn't want to name him without you."

"Oh... Illidan-" Asch sounded choked up, Illidan leans forward, kissing the babies very soft hair. "Well," he says against his head, "what will his name be?" Asch rubs her cheek into his rough horn, kissing an imperfection. "I want you too name him," she tells him, head leaning into his horn.

"Edan."

It became routine to spend hours with the baby. Asch had somehow made a crib of roots beside their bed. Edan was a very pleasant baby, but that made it difficult to understand his needs.

Illidan was worried about how Argus was effecting Edan. He wanted their son off the planet along with his wife. Asch kept saying no, that their place was with Illidan and she would go no where without him. Edan was a very small baby, he was two months early and slept a lot of the time, usually preferring to fall asleep against his fathers breast then his own bed.

The hunters were very amused when he was being demanding with a baby napping against his neck.


Still Illidan would forgo his pride and allow the child to nestle, Asch found it endearing as he carted their baby around the den with him or up in the ship. Velen was surprised to see the baby, but happy it was safe. It was mostly fine, the baby didn't impede his progress with expelling demons, Asch knew when it was appropriate to fight with him and when Illidan wouldn't allow any arguement, this made the whole ordeal much easier. When he was busy Asch woul go back to the ship and wait for him to return safely.

Currently Asch had Edan was laying on his mother, holding a clump of her hair and examining it with interest. Illidan was searching through letters until he came upon one addressed too him in Malfurion's hand writing.


"Dear brother," he hisses the start, getting Asch's attention. "It has been nearly two months since you went off planet. And we've yet too meet. I was hoping to see you before your departure, if you could find the time to come see me it would be greatly appreciated. Malfurion." Illidan crumples the paper snarling. Edan looks at his father with caution, but doesn't seem afraid either. "Insufferable. Be damned-" Asch touches his wrist, he intended in throwing the sheet aside, but her soft eyes force him to a halt. "Don't you think it best to see him? There isn't much to be done tonight after all. We could go back and return in the morning?"


Illidan didn't want to see his brother, Asch didn't know that he had called their child a monster. Illidan couldn't imagine the little thing resting on his wife could have been a monster, he felt shame for himself thinking it could ever be anything more then a baby.


Edan's ears were floppy and soft and his eyes were whole but smoky fel coloured, still he was a beautiful baby, very dark like Illidan. Nothing connected him to his mother however, despite being given life by her, the baby was almost exactly like Illidan. Not even her lighter skin impacted his colouring the way Illidan expected.

"Must I?" Asch giggled at his tone, raising a brow, "it sounds important, we should." Illidabclooks at his happy baby, watching him smile at Illidan. He raises a questioning brow, Edan squeals. Illidan quirks a smile. "Fine fine, have your way."


The trip down took only minutes, people were shocked to see Illidan, showing it upon their faces as he passes. Asch hides their baby under wrap-knotted blankets against her chest. The only things visible were his pointed ears and soft hair. Illidan wasn't allowed to fly them there so why have to pay for a gryphon ride. Edan was sleeping and would probabsly continue to if Illidan took them to the grove, but Asch was adamant about hurting or scaring him.


So there he sat, Edan was pressed between his parents as the gryphon flew smoothly.


Malfurion was awaiting them in the entrance of the grove, Illidan walks in front with his wings out, hiding any sight of Asch and Edan. Tyrande was scowling beside her husband, glaring at him thickly as they stalked closer. "Brother!" Malfurion sounded happy to see him. Illidan nods, "you said you wanted something in your letter?" Asch pulls the leather of his wing up, ducking under it as she passed.


Malfurion stops, looking at the bundled baby. "Oh, it's born," he says softly, less offensive then Illidan thought he might. Asch smiles nicely, unknown to their horrible opinion. "A week passed, It's a boy and his name is Edan." Asch unravels the wrap, pulling their son free and showing off his little face, he was still asleep soundly as Asch paraded him. Illidan wills himself not to snap at their pensive stares.


"Edan," Mal tried them name, seeming to like the sound of it, "you named him?" Asch shakes her head, "I did." Illidan answers, showing his offence from the question. Of course he named his own son. "He is very dark," Mal says,


"I am very dark." Illidan snaps, crossing his arms. "Small," Tyrande adds, squinting.

"He was born early." Illidan didn't need to answer, but they would ask again and he didn't care to hear the questions more then once. "He does not-" "look demonic? Monterous?" Illidan hisses the word, the two look properly wounded. "Of course not. He is not infected with his fathers taint." Edan was, Illidan could see it as clear as day when he looked at the chubby face, but they didn't. Both looked shocked by this.

"He is not?" Illidan sighs heavily, tightening "what did you want brother? It wasn't about my son. So what?" Mal pauses, he can't seem to stop staring at the baby. Illidan rolls his eyes, flapping a wing in front of Asch, sparking his brothers attention. Asch snorts, batting at the soft flesh.

"It was actually," Mal corrects, Illidan growls, glaring his dead eyes at his brother. "I will not have you-" "no, Illidan. I have something for him." Malfurion did not call his son an it now, so Illidan drops his defensives, ready to listen.

"Please come with me."


Malfurion had quarters in the grove he didn't use very often unless time called for it. "Will you be staying?" "Only the night," Asch answers, "ah perfect, come in then please."

"My love?" Illidan halts in the door, "will you take him? My breasts hurt," Illidan sees the discomfort in her face. Feeding their child has made her chest heavy and hurt and Edan has grown the habit of nuzzling in the most painful pressing ways. "Come little one," he whispers, nuzzling his nose into his forehead. Edan doesn't even aknowledge being moved. Illidan rolls his eyes, watching Asch laugh.

Illidan doesn't like the clutter around Malfurion's home, papers were askew and the den they were told to wait in was too warm and Illidan banged his wings on more then one thing. All and all Edan wasn't woken up so it was a win.

"Here, this is for Edan," Malfurion holds a leather string and cups something in his hand. It was a green stone, one rough and cut ugly and earthly. "It was fathers. Mother wanted it to go to our children, it falls to you." Father. Illidan had not thought about him for a long time. It was his Druidic apprentice chain. It was full of life energy and emitted warm waves. It should have been Malfurion's, Illidan was no Druid and he wasn't going to make his child follow the order either.


"And this..." Mal produces a fluffy cloth, purple with leaf patterns. "This was your blanket, you were brought home in it and slept with it until we got too old. Mother wanted us to have them for our children." It was matted slightly, but Asch seems so taken by it, plucking it from his brothers fingers and already wrapping it around Edan. Illidan helps, tossing the ripped cloak to the side.

"He sleeps quite a bit," Mal chuckles, Illidan nods, watching Edan huff and yawn, undisturbed. "He was born too early. Sleeping helps growth." Illidan would not admit he got advice from one of his hunters. "Ah yes, you've said. It must make life easier?" Asch laughs, "he sleeps almost all day. Eats, I change him and he sleeps all over again."

Mal touches the edge of the blanket, humming "yes. Soon he will catch up. Enjoy it while you can." Asch laughs, rubbing his cheek. "He's a beautiful baby, Illidan." There was a ping in his heart, "would you like to hold him?" Mal stares, eyes darting toward Illidan and the baby. "I... yes thank you brother." Illidan leans forward, passing his precious baby to his brother, watching the Druid cradle him with care. "Very small," he observes again, "weights nothing-" Edan whines, confused as he opens his eyes, Tyrande grunts in displeasure, both watching his eyes shine with fel energy.

"Oh," Asch coos, looking at her baby. "Hello sleepy!" Edan gets excited at his mother, ears perking, Mal laughs, getting Edan's fleeting attentions, the baby touches his beard, petting it like he was a dog.

Malfurion runs his knuckles against his arm, padding his thumb finger into the side of his mouth. "Very much like you Illidan, very." Mal gives him back, smiling as he gurgles at his father. Edan mewls, aiming his fingers and flexing them toward his mother, "he wants you," Illidan gives him back, Edan is happy, touching her face, very lively.


"I should feed him before he goes to sleep again," Asch kisses Illidan's cheek, then allowing him to kiss Edan before going to the other room.


A long pause.

"He isn't a monster." Tyrande was still fowl, Illidan grows dark. "It's a child. Of course not. You should know by no one is born evil. It's grown." Tyrande glares to the side. "Now the real conversation, if you will."

Mal shrugs, just as confused as Illidan, "this is what I wanted brother, too give you our memories for your son."

"I wanted to see it," Tyrande interrupts, hissing "too see what you made in her." Illidan makes a show of opening his arms, brow tilting, "and what have I made in her?"

Mal looks quietly furious, Illidan has no doubt he had no idea this was going to happen.

"Something I do not want to see again."

Illidan now rages, uncaring if his wife hears this absurdity. "That is not your choice woman." Tyrande rises to his challenge, "it is as your high priestess! You will not chance bringing another demon in this world!"

"You are nothing to me. I am ruled by no one and you will not dare tell me what I can and cannot do!" Malfurion as had enough of the yelling, "enough! Tyrande!" Tyrande glared at her husband, "no! This is unacceptable!"


"What is?! That I dared to move on? That I have a family? That I was part in making a child? If you dare tell me I cannot do it again this will be the last you ever speak to me or her!" Malfurion acts as the middle man, "no brother this isn't what she asks-" "it is exactly what I ask! We cannot risk this!" Illidan has had enough of this. "If you wish to see us before we leave we will be at home. Goodbye brother."


Asch had just finished feeding Edan when Illidan made them leave, she had heard the whole thing and was ready to leave, saying nothing in defence.

Illidan was pacing, raging quietly while Asch just sat on their bed and watched, offering nothing but her presence.


"She is insufferable!" Be belts, mouth in a snarl, telling him he can't father more children. How bold.

Illidan acknowledged the fact he was against it like them at first, but once he realized it was just a child, there was no question.


"She's scared. Scared people say foolish things." Illidan huffs, looking at his mate with softer eyes. "She called it a monster. You heard what she said tonight." Asch nods solemnly, "I did. It doesn't concern me. Let her be angry, but don't let it bother you. Mal was kind, Edan liked him even. Come here." Illidan drags his feet, sllipping on the bed with pain in his eyes, "Edan is no demon, he may have the blood of one, but he is your son. And if he grows a tail or wings, even claws it won't matter. He's my beautiful baby boy." Illidan smiles at that, nuzzling her nose with his.


"Sleep my love, we will see Mal before we leave and thank him for his gifts."

Chapter Text

Asch could remember everything with far to much clarity. The way his hands felt, gripping her skin. How his tongue brunt her flesh as it laved up her spine.


Velen was there, in the room as they cleaned her, his light was calming, but she was tainted from the inside now. No amount of light or help will ever change that. Velen held her, cried with her and offered to let her stay with her for as long as she wanted.

"I missed him," she whispers once the nurses are gone, "I missed him so much..." Velen touches her knee, smiling sorrowfully "I know. I do too." Velen's wife was taken by the legion, his son corrupted by the legion. Asch's husband was consumed by it now. The two Draenei sat together in sadness. Velen was clutching her hand, squeezing it just tight enough it reminded her of before.

The ship, their home world burning, and her bloodstained dress.

Two days after they feld, when everything was calmer. Asch stood with Velen, looking over the bustling people, watching as they sat crying or helping each other. Beds were shared by everyone, all made out of tattered cloth and spare clothes. Pillows were arms or bags or others bodies. The children at least looked somewhat happy.

Then it happened. Asch doubled over, a rush between her legs, gushing blood and mucus. Guards came to Velen's call, they took her to the medical wing and the doctor told her she lost her baby.

A baby Asch did not know she had, the only purity Kil'jaeden had left. Asch had to wear the blood soaked dress for months until they came to Azeroth.


"I... I love him," Asch whimpers, blue eyes filling with tears, "even after everything he's done-" Asch broke into an ugly sob, Velen coos sadly, wrapping her in his arms. "There is nothing wrong with that." He promises, petting her hair with gentle fingers, "he is your husband. He is my brother. I love him as well." The omission crippled her, even as the nurses come back and whisper to Velen, what they said she didn't know, but he understood them and nodded against her forehead, beard tickling her and envoking a feeling beyond the numbness of her sorrow.

Velen cradles her, mumbling words of comfort in their language as he exits the building. People don't look more than a second, the entirety of Dalaran heard the news. Even adventures bow and look away as the great Prophet strides to purpose. The journey wasn't long, Velen had quarters in the violet citadel, the mages see them and Khadgar personally open the portal to his room.

Asch feels herself being placed atop a bed, soft and spongy. Velen's weight makes the bed dip to one side, but the unbalance isn't unwelcome. In fact, Asch curls into his leg, gripping his thigh hidden under his robes. "It's alright little star, I am here." Kil'jaeden called her little star when they were courting. It stings her chest in a warm and painful way.

Asch holds onto Velen for dear life, her only anchor to reality. Once upon a time Velen was almost her chosen rather then Kil'jaeden. Velen had been courting her for weeks, but the great beastly warrior that Kil'jaeden was had won in the end. Velen, the gentle and loving soul held no ill will or resentment in her choice and married and cherished a beautiful woman, made a beautiful son. Asch wondered if her fate would have been just as Velen's wife if she had married him. If her son would have become Kil'jaeden's pawn. Asch loved Velen, loved him dearly enough that if he would ask again, she would say yes. She was young however, much younger then him, her husband. Some called her a child bride when she married Kil'jaeden.

It was strange.

It had been weeks since Asch had been with Kil'jaeden, but she could still feel him.

It was why she wondered the shore, she was seeking him out, or rather where she felt him to be. Why? He abused and raped her, yet there she was getting sand stuck in her hooves as she clomped through the muddy wet ground.

Asch came upon a cave, the entrance was barely a crack in the wall, but she fit through easily. Asch tried to stall the echoing her steps made, but wasn't very successful.

Beyond a few turns, he was there, pasting his broken wings with green ick and black cloth.

"Did he like what he saw?" Kil'jaeden asks, not acknowledging her arrival. "Did he like seeing my leavings upon you?" Asch felt small under his voice, scared. "He didn't notice-" "liar," he teases in almost an amused voice. "Of course he did. He's to pure to say anything, show anything."


Kil'jaeden had made up the bed beyond him, it was covered in soft looking furs, all beautiful colours. The demon eyes her "go on and sit. I made it for you." Some part of her was touched, but it was behind the veil of knowing he was doing it to somehow hurt her, manipulate her. Asch still goes, sitting on the bed, feeling it.

"You always did look marvellous in my bed." He's said that before, and just like before, it worked. "You hurt me." She said, overcome with sadness. Kil'jaeden eyes her, "that's what I do."

"Will you fix it?" This was like asking the devil for a deal without expecting to pay.

"Yes."


His claws weren't malicious this time, they carcasse instead of bite at her skin. His teeth nibble instead of rip. It's real, right now in their little bubble. It's as real as she remembers.

Kil'jaeden licks his fingers when he's finished preparing her, licking his mouth clean as he uses his other hand to try and roll her over. "No..." she pleads, wiggling back "wanna see you..." Kil'jaeden tilts his head, brow raising. "Do you? You want to see a demon mount you?" Asch bites her lip, thread her fingers through his white hair, twirling the hanging locks "I want too see my husband..."

"Is that right? Do you still see your husband?"

"I want too- is that wrong? Aren't you still my husband...?" Asch knew whatever he said was going to be a manipulation, but she was in the bubble. Nothing could ruin this.

"You're the only one who does." Asch spreads her legs wider, distracting him. Still the same man, Asch smiles to herself. "Do you want to be?" Asch has never seen him so off base, so thrown by her body, all like before. Like a virgin, like their first night. Kil'jaeden was a rough warrior, but that didn't mean all of him was rough.

"Yes..." he practically hisses.

Chapter Text

A slow dangerous smile caught the lips of the lord of Scourge when it found out just how important his new batch of prisoners were. Now Arthas knew who Lor'themar Thoren was, met him once when he was a princeling and Thoren was an advisor. But his interest stopped there, even in life. So he very eagerly listened to the deathknight as he told him the whole, exciting truth.

Lor'themar was having an affair with the princess. The one promised to Kael'thas, the one Arthas had never seen but heard once about. The prince was quite in love if Arthas remembers, expelling his deepest wishes to marry her soon and make children with haste. Arthas never knew there would be more to that, but none too surprisingly elves always had many secrets.

This was almost the best kept secret in all of Azeroth until just before the Illidan problems arouse. Asch was her name, the deathknight told him. A beautiful queen. There were hints of longing from the knight, but Arthas could allow that, the subtle poke of his ears told him that the knight was an elf.

The truth has spilled out like a crashing wave, Lor'themar had married the princess in secert and consummated their marriage the night of. Elves revered virgins, held it very scared. Like humans did. After the prince went mad Lor'themar became regent lord and Asch his lady thereafter. The union was accepted, because the elves adore romance and convoluted stories.

Now the two were in his captive. Arthas could see them. Lor'themar was broken and bruised, stripped of his plate armours. She was gripping his pinky, weakly at that. They were staring at the wooden floor of their jail, crammed in with a few other elves. Asch was gorgeous, despite her tattered clothes. She sat between his open legs, on her knees. Her hair was long down her back and almost obscured her face. It was as white as Arthas' own hair, an odd colour even for elves.


Her breath was shallow, tired but she wouldn't sleep, he looked like a dog, haggard but still a little fight.


"You're going to collapse," Lor'themar was worried sick. His words were hushed, despite being in their tongue. Asch gave him a weak smile, "you won't sleep either." Lor'themar shrugs at that, "who will protect you if I do?" Even now he was being romantic. Asch feels tears well up, but speaks anyway "do you remember when Hal made us leave to that forest? The tent you made?" Lor'themar smiles sadly, bobbing his head lightly. "You wanted to teach me how to hunt and I shot you with an arrow-" Asch barks off into a sob, trying to laugh. "I was too scared to pull it out- you had too. I screamed so loud." Lor'themar snorts quietly, "you scared some villagers into coming and looking. They caught us in the midst of our passion. Your face was so red." Asch wipes the heel of her palm against her cheek, rubbing away the tears.

"I wish we were back there. In that tent." Lor'themar looks up at her now, face full of emotion. "We will, once we get out of this. I will take you away on my strider and I will build you a cottage so deep into the woods. And we will stay there as long as you want, forever if you want." Asch puts pressure on his pinky and Lor'themar locks their hands together, squeezing her fingers. "I want that. I want a big cosy bed a-and a fireplace... I want to go home Lo." Lor'themar heaves a pained sigh, "we will, my love. I promise."


Arthas watches the elves, listening to their curious language. He doesn't care to understand what they were saying, rather the little change in touches. His hand gripped hers better, the other on her knee. Their eyes were locked but there ere no more words now. Arthas supposed it wasn't too different to what Jaina used to do. Like talking without talking. Jaina was better at it than he was and always knew, just by staring at him with a tilt in her brow what he wanted.

Arthas remembers being amazed and Jaina saying it was no magic.

There was though, magic. He saw it in their eyes, watching them as the carts pulled to the gates. "Icecrown m'lord." One of the cultist say, Arthas shakes the memories off and gets Invincible to trot forward, the cage wheezes behind him.


Two days had passed and two elves had disappeared. Besides Asch and Lor'themar their was five other elves captured. All men from his army and one personal guard to his wife. The guard was still there, sitting with his back to them, blocking any sight of the regent lady as if it was still his job. He tried, Asch said, but there were so many. Lor'themar believed her and if they got out of this, he wouldn't be punished.

Lor'themar sat with his back against the cold wall, Asch still sitting between his folded knees. She was leaning against his leg, pressing the side of his knee into the back wall, her own head resting against a brick. They were looking at each other, saying nothing but offering the other comfort. Hal said how creepy it was, but found it endearing nonetheless.

After the second elf Arthas had become bored. Tomorrow he would bring the rest and finish the reanimation without trying for information. Simple soldiers didn't know much of anything and it wasn't worth it too ask anymore. Tonight however, he had ideas of what to do with his prized captives.

Asch had fallen asleep, finally. Resting her whole weight in his body as she slumbered silently. Lor'themar was relieved, she hadn't slept the whole way here. Lor'themar was exhausted himself, but wouldn't sleep yet. What he was waiting for and why, he didn't know. But he wouldn't sleep while she was. It wasn't safe to do so. Lor'themar was right to be weary when the shambles of armour against stone echoed and two knights appeared beyond the bars, Lor'themar shook her awake, scaring her as they pried the door open. Two others came behind them with dark shackles and hidden faces.

Asch was yanked from him, a sword at his neck when he tried to fight. Asch struggled but it was nothing to the knights as they clapped her hands and ankles. Lor'themar put up a better resistance, struggling and even managing to shove one over. It only prolonged the process and they were unkind to him, bashing his head into the stone wall, making Asch cry out.

Asch was wiggling, struggling against heir hold as the two carried her. For some reason they held her off the ground, making sure her feet weren't damaged, but Lor'themar they didn't have care for it.

They came to a dark room, lit with few candles and by a desk, was Arthas himself. The lord turned to see them enter, scowling at Lor'themar, "I told you not to injure him. He didn't sound pleased at all. "He struggled overpowered us." Arthas laughs, a bitter and awful sound, "one elf caused you trouble?" A beat of silence, "no matter. Chain him there." Asch watches the two handle him to the floor, linking his chains to the wall. Lor'themar snarls, glaring hotly at Arthas.

"And her?" Arthas observes Asch before speaking, "the bed. Keep her wrists bound, but only one leg." They did as asked, undoing a few shackles before linking her ankle to the one attached to the bed.

Arthas did nothing for a few moments before speaking in a sneer, "I always hated elves. Picky and far too proud." Idly he walks, boots making a thunder clap as they hit the stone beneath his feet. "Tell me regent lord, have you been humbled yet?" Lor'themar doesn't answer, but Arthas isn't interested anyway. Instead his gaze falls to Asch, who sits on the bed, caged by his knights. "And you, I have heard much about you." Arthas smirks at her disgusted shiver.

"People claim you as the most beautiful creature in all of the Horde. I don't doubt that. Filthy orcs and trolls. They say men would fight for just a glance at you," his fingers ghost up her arm as he speaks, making goose flesh perk up in his path. "They say men would topple empires for a night with you." Arthas had done his research, elves were passionate beings, his knights had their memories and he dissected every elves he could find. One had memories of being in a camp, they all spoke of their lady in vulgar ways. Which way they'd twist her, how long they would drown between her legs. What they would do just too see her.

Another elf in the memory boasted that she smiled at him, no one believed him of course. Humans were the same in that regard, Arthas knew many adored Jaina, wanted the Mage the way he was only allowed.

"What now, would you do too keep him alive?" Asch gasps openly as a sword is draw too her husbands neck, exciting tears from her eyes. Lor'themar grits his teeth, snarling like a caged animal.

"Anything! Please anything don't hurt him!" She cries fisting the sheets of the bed.

"Asch no!" Lor'themar barks, struggling against his chains, as if it would do anything.

Arthas was amused by the whole scene, chuckling as he watches the two strain for each other.

"Anything? How putridly sweet. Get on your knees." Asch does as told, scurrying like a trained dog. "Asch please," Lor'themar pleads, their eyes locking. "Pull his chains loose. Bring him close." The knights haul him to the bed, dumping him by the foot, so close their noses can barely touch at the tips.

Arthas had already decided the outcome and sits pleasantly by on a plush but tattered chair. "What a sight," he taunts, watching Lor'themar glare at him. "Koltira," he commands, the knight bows in respect. Arthas takes a moment to appreciate it. "She said anything. Do anything you like." Koltira was the one to reveal all the details of their little love affair, so Arthas wished to reward him.

Koltira is conflicted for a moment, shocked at such a reward, but quickly masks it, removing him helmet, "yes my king." Asch's eyes flutter, a fresh bout of tears falling down her cheeks as the room grows silent, save for armour clinking. Asch mewls pathetically as her dress is ripped open. Lor'themar is growling, yanking at his chain.

"So help me if-" a yelp rips from Asch and she's pushed forward, bumping into his face with her own. Koltira hisses behind them and Arthas laughs. The disbelief, shock and rage on the regent lords face was almost too much. Watching it play out in front of hm was better then he could have imagined.

The lewd noise of his hips slapping into her ass echoed off the walls with too much clarity, her whole body behind fucked forward into Lor'themar was enough to make her sob outright, shame and embarrassment her only company as the deathknight rammed into her. Arthas watches with his chin propped in his hand as the knight's cock sheathed between her legs, the twitches she made below him and the rough little grunts of displeasure erupting from her mouth.

Lor'themar was grinding his teeth, the little fangs shining in the candle light. Koltira leans over, biting her long ear. Asch lets a straggled cry go, shaking her head as if to disturb a fly away. Koltira pulls her hair taught, making her head go ridged as he assumes her flesh to his bidding. Asch scrunched her nose in a cute little snarl, trying to eye her captor. Koltira groans against the dip between her shoulder, humping her like a mindless animal looking for release. Lor'themar is heaving, breathes coming out in great puffs as his rage doubles.

Asch tries to reach for him, but Koltira squashs that idea, grabbing her shackles and keeping her still. "I'll kill you!" Lor'themar finally bites, tears welling up in his eye, Arthas spares him a glance. "Will you?" He mocks, watching the elf struggle. Asch hiccups, raising her eyes to look at him. Arthas returns the look, smirking.

"Is he humbled now?" The question has her breaking again, a wail bubbling from her chest, Arthas cackles.

There was sweat and tears and other nasty fluids gathering on the bed as Koltira continued, unimpeded by her unabashed crying. Lor'themar looks properly defeated, his face is dead, but his eyes are emotional. Asch had grow quieter, but she still moans in sorrow whenever Koltira rams his hips enough to gauge a reaction. Her legs tremble and she's well passed keeping her head up. Instead it's pressed to the sheets, her gaze falling into the wall beyond Arthas. Her eyes are hallow and her tears seem to never stem. It made a dark, wet pool under her cheek.

Between her legs it was the same wet mess, the clear fluids roving down her spred legs, her body betrayed her but she made no noise to it. Arthas could tell when she reached her peak, the shiver that ran from her spine up, the expel of air rushing from her nose. And the sound Koltira made at the tightening of her cunt around him. It had to be the forth time, each time Arthas wondered if she would make him follow, if it was enough to milk his orgasm from him, yet he only shook and continued.


Arthas was well passed making his point and motioned for Koltira to finished. It awoke both the elves when he pulled her up into her earlier position. From the side he couldn't properly make out their faces, but once the two realized what was happening the shock and discomfort was legendary.

The tightening of her face and the utter sheathing his as Koltira went at his demand with vigour. Koltira whines low, stilling inside her as he spent himself, rocking gently as he allowed her cunt to flutter around him. There was enough to leak from her, even as his cock plugged most of it inside, a steady flow trickled out and wetly dabbed against the sheets, making a distinct drip noise.

As soon as his cock slipped from her grip and slapped wetly into his thigh Arthas waved them away, taking Lor'themar from his spot and Asch up from hers. "My lord," Koltira bows, fixing his britches. Arthas hums, amused by it all.

"Hmm. Take them with you tomorrow at lights chapel, Darion may find delight in her."

"Yes my lord."


No one yet had found delight in his wife, in fact Darion wasn't amused by the idea at all. "We have business here. I won't be be responsible for this."

Asch was horrified, watching as people were cut down and raised seconds after, Lor'themar covered her eyes, holding her to his body until the subtle noise came next to them. Koltira stumbled, holding his head like he'd been struck, the sickly colour from his eyes was all but gone and his mind looked unclogged, "regent lord!" The ghastly echo was still in his voice, but held distinct emotion. "The spell-its been-" the both are jolted into the sound of Tirion Fordring. The unmistakable shine of the Ashbringer.

Koltira scurries to their cage, wresting it open, "can you get away?" Lor'themar heart was beating out of his chest, but he thrived on pressure. "Yes."

It was easy to tell which way to go from there, the path that the soldiers took. Tracking their movements was child's play for a ranger.

It wasn't long before he found the camp, a few soldiers were lingering and stopped them in shock. "I am regent lord Lor'themar Thoren!" They recognized him instantly.

 

There was a long, drawn moment that finally made their escape sink in. Lor'themar sagged in his chair, looking out the grand window at the broken an bruised land. It hadn't been right between them, it wasn't noticeable until now, but there was a drift. They weren't as close.

Lor'themar hated it, hated how she wouldn't look at him anymore.

Lor'themar got up, his wife barely registered his leaving. Hal would help, he was his best friend.

The ranger was sharpening knife heads, squinting at the tips when Lor'themar interrupted, "ah! My friend, come to help?" There wasn't much ceremony when Lor'themar came home, Hal didn't make it a big deal. Their shared a few rough drinks and let it go.

"I need help Hal," it came out a weak sigh, Lor'themar shook his head, upset. Hal wipes his hands, the clink against the wood tells Lor'themar that Hal's attention was all his. "Something... happened-" Lor'themar chokes, Hal looks worried, "Arthas- Asch... he... he forced one of his... death knights on her- because they were going to kill me." Hal kept his eyes straight, taking his information without any look of disgust or upset. "Do you... blame her?" Lor'themar shook his head vehemently, "no no! I... she won't look at me, talk too me- I... I need your help."


Hal and Lor'themar were top rangers, finding a deepest, dense clearing was the easiest part of it all. They marked the spot, got plans together and soon started to help carve and chop wood to build the cottage he promised.

Hal said it wasn't his fault, wasn't Asch's. What happened was terrible and Lor'themar wasn't angry, not at her at least. Some might think her tainted, it must be why she won't talk to him. Asch must think he doesn't love her after another man... no. It was wrong and he would prove it.

"It's small..." Hal muses, looking at the shell of the house. Lor'themar breathes in the wood, enjoying the atmosphere immensely. "She wanted it. Just like this. It's perfect."

Hal smiles, fully and quite happy with it. The bed was pressed against the wall, taking up a whole space on its own while the fire place made up the back wall of the house, directly in front of the open door. Besides filling it with furniture and finishing a few minor details it was ready to be used.

"Is she... talking to you?" Lor'themar shook his head, leaning against the frame of the door. "No... she's still-" "it's alright. Not for much longer."

Hal agreed to bring Asch to the cottage.

 

 

Chapter Text

Silvermoon had a yearly, almost month long festival called the creation festival. Since the black temple and now, with the scourge their numbers were in the low fifty-thousand.

The creation festival was a scared, very secretive event where all the blood elves were invited too the city, they would close the gates and all around the mages endeavoured to blanket the city in sunsets and stars. Lor'themar was in the grand room of the citadel, watching as the sunny sky became overtaken by magic stars and milky pinks. It was his favourite event, not only did it help repopulate their dwindling race, it created life bonds and mates. Lor'themar had shared his first festival with his wife. It was her idea, since thousand upon thousands died in the war against Illidan and Kael, her promised prince.

Asch believed it would be what everyone needed at the time, and it was.

The number of babies born that year had tripled along with marriages and the morale of the people. Today was the first of the event and he watched people decorate the pavilions in pinks, purples and reds. People laid blankets in the parks and opened their doors and windows. It was truly one of the only events to bring all his people together.


And here he was, alone. They had been married for three years now, and the second creation event together. The first it was meant to test, to see what their people thought. And the second they had tried the hardest they've ever to make a baby, with no luck. This year... this year was hard. Arthas had drove a cliff between them just weeks ago. Asch wouldn't look at him, kept to herself and just two days pasted, she began sleeping by herself. She refused to go to their bed after a while, making half hearted excuses about work, being lady regent and all. Lor'themar had the same amount of work, but still found their marriage bed before dusk settled.

He had created it himself, carving the figures in the headboard and shaping the columns. It was all for her and she loved it, a wedding gift never forgotten. Lor'themar watched as two young elves embrace, the girl giggling visibly as he picked her up and twirled her in the air. He smiled too himself, happy despite the pain in his home life.

Hal sauntered in before he had a chance to be upset.

"The creation festival seems to be going underway, exciting, no?" Hal loved the event, always disappearing for days before coming ack to the castle, full of secrets he wouldn't even tell Lor'themar. Rommath even snuck away somewhere. It was a time for love and conception, two things Lor'themar felt very far from.

"It is, it looks like it will go well this year." Hal comes too lean next too him, resting on the railing. "I wonder if Rom found a girl he won't tell us about, I can't find him today." Lor'themar chuckles, shaking his head.

"You care far too much about his personal life." Hal looks scandalized by his words, "why shouldn't I? He goes off the first day of the festival and you don't find that interesting?!" Well, yes. Lor'themar did. But he wouldn't go asking what the other man was doing with his time. It was a private event after all. The festival was about creating life bonds, not caring about status or rank. Lor'themar encouraged noble ladies to wed and bed bread makers, or Rom to find a simple girl from a simple family, so long as it was love.

Hal chuckles through the silence, shrugging his shoulder, "oh well, I suppose I'll never know..." a serious note, "hows... your home life?" He didn't ask because he wanted to pry, he asked because he knew far to much already not too.

Lor'themar gives a pained sigh, opening the wound again. "I don't know where she sleeps now. I... don't ask." Hal's face twists sadly, "I didn't know, I'm sorry Lo." Lor'themar shrugs, waving it off. "She won't let me talk too her, won't let me tell her that what happened... that what happened was okay, that I don't blame her- that I'd do anything for her." He swallows, watching the couples below become happier as he becomes sadder. "Arthas-" he bites the name, "she trusted me, with everything... now she.. now she's- I don't know. I don't know what's going on with her anymore. She won't speak too me."


Hal has always been there, he was there when Lor'themar was seeing Asch in secret, was there when he heard about the betrayal and right next to him when they were married under the sun trees.

"Do you want me to find out, where she goes I mean?" I'm sure guards have seen her around. Then you could talk too her, figure things out." Lor'themar felt his heart ache, Hal was his brother. "Thank you, Hal." Was all he said in response. Hal inclined his head, pushing off the railing, "give me ten minutes."

It only took seven.

Apparently Asch had be frequenting the abandon study that Kael used to use for magic and practices. Lor'themar saw no need in removing it or making use of the space, but he found it very strange that she would be there.


True to Hal's word, Lor'themar found the steps cleaned of dust in the space of feet, multiple sets going up and down, some steps even hand drag marks from dresses. When he entered the chambers he found no sign of her yet and took the liberty too look around.

The sofa was being used as her bed, many pillows and blankets were thrown across its lavish red cusions and the dust cover was stuffed under its belly. The table was covered in journals, newly opened and books of magic that looked too be skimmed through. Some articles of clothing where askew on an old mirror and hung off a chair. Lor'themar rifles through an open book, principles of fire, it read. Chapter eight.


"Oh," a spot gasp came ahead of him, Lor'themar looks up to find Asch, hands onthr frame of the balcony door. Lor'themar lets go of the page he was skimming over. It had been days since he last saw Asch properly, her hair in a messy tail, braided lazily but still looked pretty. Her dress wss long and milky yellow, like the sun behind a cloud.

"Hi," he say lamely, unable to find any else to say, "hi..." she repeats, looking at her feet. Lor'themar feels pain in his chest, look at me! He almost cried aloud, but instead he says, "why are you in Kael's apartments?" Lor'themar knew the man spent much of us time up here alone, because Asch was not allowed inside. It was how he got to spend so much time with her in the first place. Always working, she said. Always ignoring her.

Asch fidgets like a child being lectured, "I don't know, it's quiet." That it was. The offices were so high up in the castle that almost all the sounds of the lower levels were but distance echos, if that. It was why Kael liked it so much. "You've never bothered too come here before." Lor'themar would know. Because they shared everything.

At least, they used too.

"Oh," is all she says at first, "I guess I didn't." Lor'themar wonders if he was the one being ignored now, if he wasn't allowed up here like she wasn't all those years ago. Her response doesn't leave much to say, so Lor'themar doesn't try.

"You sleep here now, is there something wrong with our bed?" Asch doesn't dare look up from her feet when she responds, "it's too far, it's easier then having to climb all the way back up here." Lor'themar frowns, "and what are you doing up here that you can't do anywhere else exactly?" She had her office, it was connected to his by a den, one that why would often go to sleep in if they were tired enough. Lor'themar remembered how he would start a fire and she would fall asleep against his chest and he wouldn't bother to move.

"Reading his books," a poor excuse.

"You could've had them delivered to the office." A hefty retort.

"Oh, I guess I could have." Again she leaves no opening, Lor'themar grinds his teeth. "Asch why," her brow furrows in response, Lor'themar fumes gently, "why won't you talk too me? Come to our bed? Why make excuses for... for all this!" He gestures angrily around him, hating the dusty space already, "why won't you look at me?!"

She doesn't answer, Lor'themar actually becomes angry, "god dammit Asch! Talk to me!" She flinches a little, but doesn't answer, Lor'themar snarls, shoving books off the table. "Can't you see I love you? Don't you know that anymore?! Arthas hasn't changed that! What happened doesn't change anything!" Asch fell too her knees at his words, hiding her face in her hands, crying.

Lor'themar rushes to her, falling on his knees to wrap her in his arms. "Please," he begs, "say something..." even if it was to yell at him, Lor'themar didn't care. Just something, anything.

"I... I let him-" "no!" He refuses to hear that, "you saved my life, they were going too kill me" Asch fights him, trying to push away, "no! I... he- he touched me I... I'm ruined!" Lor'themar hushed her, shaking his head "no you aren't- nothing's changed between us you aren't ruined." Lor'themar pulls her face up, holding it too look a him "I love you darling."


It was rocky, but it was a start.

The creation festival was brought to an official start with fireworks, it had been a week of preparing, but now it was in full swing and couples were finding each other left and right. Lor'themar and Asch were slowly finding each other again as well, it was touch and go sometimes, she would slip away, but he wouldn't let her fall for long.


Lor'themar inhales, breathing in her soft scent. Asch smelt like moonberrys and honey. Lor'themar kisses the spot under her ear, Asch sighs against him. Lor'themar winds his hands around her waist, pulling her back to his chest, wetly mouthing at her sweet spots. Elves ears were sensitive and easy to play with, Lor'themar liked the shivers she had when he licked up her ear lobe.

"Lo-" she gasps, squirming in his iron hold, the regent lord merely hums, "Lo... Lor'themar- stop...!" Lor'themar was baffled when he heard her speak the words, unlinking his arms as she scurried off his lap. "What's wrong my love?!" Lor'themar was puzzled, she never rejected him.

"We can't-" "why not?" The idea was forming in his head, he didn't need her to answer why. "B-because!" Tears were filling her eyes, the distinct noise of sniffling could be heard, even though her back was turned.


"Asch- why?" He knew why. He knew. He still needed to hear it.


"Because..." a hard pause.

"Because he... he ruined me!" Lor'themar digs the heel of his palm into his scarred eye, feeling the pressure before he spoke, "ruined what Asch?" Lor'themar had to admit the frustration was mounting, how could he fix this if she wouldn't let him.

"I don't see anything ruined. I see my wife. My lover. My beautiful sun and air." Lor'themar saw the tears fall freely now, running like a river down her face. "He's still... his touch is-" "let me erase it!" He desperately begs, "let me help you forget about this, don't you want to feel my touch? The love I have for you?" Lor'themar was practically on his knees, pleading.

"Let me hold you like before, love you the only way I can. Please my love, my Asch." Asch was broken by his words, slipping on the floor in a pool of her dress. "I was always there, wasn't I? When Kael wasn't, when he left you alone, I was there! Let me be here for you. Don't shut me out."


Asch snivels terribly, crying, than a response.

"W-when he was... was in his study y-you kept me company," Lor'themar nods frantically, easing onto the floor, "when he... he betrayed our people- you... you were there by- by my side."

"Yes," he stresses, "I'll always be here."

"I'm... I'm sorry I- should know... I should know you'd never- oh Lo," Asch falls forward, Lor'themar expectantly catches her in his arm, the dress at bunched and twisted annoyingly around their legs, but Lor'themar didn't care. "Let me fix this, all of it."

"Okay."


Lor'themar wasn't sure how he could fix it, but he tried to show her all the love he had in the kisses and touches he gave.


Nightmares came frequently, at night she would scream awake and scare half the castle into alert. The guards would rush inside, worried and ready to defend their lords consort, eventually the guards knew to stop coming. Night after night she would wake them up in a fit of tears and Lor'themar would cradle her in his arms and tell her it wasn't real.

Even sometimes during the day, Rommath and Hal were shocked the day it happened. Lor'themar got too his knees and hushed her in the middle of a meeting, the other two elves were worried sick, what happened, Rommath had asked when it was all over. Hal figured it out since Lor'themar had told him before, but Rommath was struck by the sudden outburst, so Lor'themar told him, the whole painful truth of what befell them in icecrown.


Rommath was the one to diligently stand by her, the two had always bonded because of Kael, but this was something else completely. Rommath gave her tea to drink before bed that would make her nights even dreamless. Lor'themar was grateful.

Sleep for them both came easier, she slept through the night with no issue. During the day was harder, her mind would wander, but when that happened she silently gravitated toward Lor'themar, hid her face in his shoulder and squeezed his arm until she came back. It was working, it was fine.


Lor'themar put a hand on her hip, absently squeezing it as he spoke with an emissary of their warchief. The creation festival was going, but the elf was under special order to reliever the reports and words from the warchief. Sylvanas would not be ignored, not even for a festival. Asch breathes in heavily, leaning her fully weight against his back.

Rommath leans toward his shoulder, whispering to his wife, "are you alright?" Lor'themar's eats perk and he glances back at her down drawn eyes and trembling fingers, "y-yes..." her warm breath tickles his skin, "here my lady," Rommath held his arm up, Asch wrecthed away, almost collapsing in the Grand Magister's arms, Lor'themar hesitated, watching as Rommath walked her away to his throne. "Continue..." but Lor'themar stopped listening already.


It took quite a while for the meeting to end, Rommath was kneeling at her feet, rubbing her hands between his and muttering conversation. Lor'themar finally said farewell to the emissary and hurried over to Asch, Rommath spoke first. "Just memories, we've calmed down." Asch gives him a weak smile, eyes shining "I'm... I'm sorry I did that in... in front of-" "it's alright my love, perfectly alright." Asch pulls up from the throne, hugging him.

"Can we... can we go to our rooms...?" Lor'themar glances at Rommath, who nods curtly, "yes my darling, we can."


When they got there he was met with trembling lips and scared touches, Lor'themar thinks it's much like their first time, but than. It was just that. This was the first time since what happened. Lor'themar holds her hips, kissing her gently on the lips. Lor'themar was sternly patient, as a ranger, a hunter. He knew how to stalk prey, how to calm it in his jaws.

Lor'themar paces forward, pushing her back into the wall of the bed, her knees bumped the frame. Lor'themar pulls the seem of her dress, pulling it apart and exposing her milky pinkish shoulders.

"My beautiful wife," he coos, kissing her neck. "May I?" She nods timidly, helping his remove her dress. Lor'themar eyes her flesh, then smirks, chuckling warmly. "A ribbon?" She squeezes her thighs, "y-yes..." he kisses it, kneeling between her legs, it was ripped and frayed at the ends, "where did it come from?"

"Your... favourite cloak- I'm sorry!" She all but squeaks, Lor'themar rubs her thigh, excited to hear this, "it was?" He purrs, kissing the thigh it was placed on "why did you do that?" Asch is shaking like a leaf, "I... I did it the day we- we got home..." Lor'themar hums, tightening it everso slightly.

Lor'themar's father taught him there were burdens and then there were soul crushing burdens.

Burdens were things that people shared, his father said only men who have things to hide keep their shoulders slumped with weights. But this burden, the Icecrown burden they both shared was hard and terrible. Rommath was her extension, Hal was his and the four together lifted it.


Lor'themar felt the horrors she did, knew the pain. Tonight they would share, they would let go of the pain.

Lor'themar ached, groaning as he sank inside her, kissing her ruthlessly, making sure she knew he cared with every ounce of his being.

"I love you," he whispers "so much."


"I love you Lo!" She whines, clawing at his shoulder blades, pulling him closer. It was everything he wanted, exactly what he needed, what they both needed.

They came in ecstasy, shakin against each other until nothing was left but to lay there and pant. "You are my everything," Lor'themar whispers breathlessly, Asch looks up at him, eyes droopy "Lo..." he leans to look at her, a soft smile crosses his handsome face, even his blind eye looks at her with love and adoration, "you are, you're everything I have ever wanted."

 

Chapter Text


Jarod stares at him, taking in the son of the Betrayer as he stands with his parents, between his father and mother. Nothing in the world was more protected then that child.


His eyes were smouldering, full of life as Malfurion leans over to talk to all of them, the inner circle of their family. Illidan touches his shoulder, the prodigy of the Stromrage clan smiles at his father. The boy was only a little taller then his mother, dark as his father and looked like a demon, but his eyes.

His eyes were innocent.

His build was thick, smaller then Jarod's own but very stocky. Edan's hair was clipped short, just shy of his shoulders. He had a trimmed beard that was kept and soft looking. It framed his lovely face, which still looked like his father. Jarod dares to infiltrate the circle, strutting up with no intentions other then introduction, but then the boy looks at him with those tainted eyes and he is at a loss for words.

"Commander," Illidan sees him, nodding in recognition. Jarod gulps, bowing lightly. Asch smiles, curtsying "hello, my lady, my lord. Little prince." Jarod sees the blush on the dark cheeks and feels smug. "S-sir," his voice cracked, but it was light, much lighter then Illidan's. It did however sound like the elder Stormrage before his transformation.

"You have grown quite a bit, how old are you now?" Elves grow much faster then humans do, "eighteen sir," Edan says proudly, chest puffing lightly, Jarod perks, "ah, old enough to begin your apprenticeship, what have you chosen?"
Edan from what Jarod had heard was more like his mother, far more passive and less to anger, a little nervous about authority it seemed. Jarod hadn't been called sir in quite a while.

"Father won't allow me to be a hunter-" "with good reason!" Illidan interrupts, smiling dangerously, Edan huffs "he also said I am not allowed to be a Magi..." this time the boy glares at his father, who only seems to look on at his son with foundness. "I want to be a warrior- you're a warrior aren't you Sir?" Jarod is taken aback by this. He had assumed the boy was going to be a priest or healing Druid like his mother.

"I am, what made you decide this?"

"I want to be like father and help people!" Illidan laughs at how proud his son sounds, "you've heard those tales my child-" "you still helped people father!" Illidan snorts, amused completely. "Oh hush," Asch smacks her husband, lovingly cooing at Edan, "yes just like your father my moon," Edan blushes embarrassed by her. "It is a noble desire, your father is a great man." Illidan's redemption was this child. Over the last years of the legion Illidan and Asch had made two other children.


One other boy and a daughter, Edan was the eldest, the turning point in the demon hunters life, while his other son, Tadeas was very young, they were all around the gathering, Tadeas was clutching his mothers leg looking nervous at his brother, Their daughter, Kairos was behind her brother, hanging off her fathers arm and looking rather bored and hardly paying attention.


All of Illidan's children looked just like him. Jarod had heard of such a thing studying demons, children fathered by demons would always look like the demon, rather then the mother. It was to insure the demon wouldn't abandon it, the more the offspring looked as it's sire the more likely it would raise it. The only one of the Illidan's brood that looked different was his daughter, Kairos had slightly lighter hair then her brothers and held her mothers leaf markings.

"And what do the rest of your children wish to become?" Illidan sighs out a laugh, pulling his wife right to his side, Illidan touches his youngest boys head, "this one isn't sure and Kair also wants to be an Illidari. Even though I have said no."

Kair huffs, "daddy thinks I should be a priest-" "or anything else." She glares, bumping his hip, Illidan shoos "go find your uncle Ezra." Kair is sweeping grace as she stalks away, flicking her long ashen hair over her shoulder.

"I hate girls. Never have one." Asch laughed under her hand, shaking her head, "she used to be my little princess. Now is she moody and demanding."

All of his children were beautiful, "da!" Tadeas calls from behind his mother, Illidan makes a show of leaning over, flicking his wings, the little boy stands on his toes, whispering something to his father. He couldn't be more then three. "Ah..." Illidan has a smile forming. It had been a long road but Jarod is happy too see how light and playful the demon has become.

Illidan picks him up, "my love," he says in a teasing voice, "would you like to dance with us?"

"How can I say no?"

Jarod watches as she moves with them to the floor, both taking Illidan and her babies hand. Mal even takes his wife's hands, bowing deep before offering a dance, she accepts, leaving Edan are left behind with Jarod. Kair is dancing with Asch's brother Ezra and Jarod chuckles.


"It seems you have no partner," Jarod says, watching the boy look around at his family. "Yeah..." he looks puzzled, Jarod bows, extending his hand out, "if I may- I would like this dance?" It wasn't odd to see two males dancing together, in fact it was very commonplace. Edan looks nervous, but accepts the hand, Jarod leads them over and takes lead. Edan knew how to dance, but he wasn't very good.

"How old are your siblings?" Jarod was very curious about the Stormrage children, seeing as Illidan wasn't exactly the family type of man. Edan coughs a laugh out, sucking in a breath, "Kair is fifth-teen and Tadeas is two. Don't tell anyone but I think mother is pregnant again..." Jarod blinks, looking over at Illidan and his wife. "Father isn't very careful- at least mother tells me so." Jarod can believe that.

"Mother thinks he does it on purpose," he's shaking his head, "does he?" Edan thinks a moment, swaying with the commander. "I think so... it's nice but I worry a little- mother has had two miscarries because father isn't... completely elven," Jarod had heard about that, the child after Edan was lost in the early stages and the third after their daughter was lost five months into her pregnancy. After a long time it became easier for the family to talk about it, Malfurion reguards those times as the darkest he's ever seen his brother endure.

"No one can really ever say no to Illidan-" this has Edan bursting out in laughter, "except mother. She's the only one who can say no." Jarod smirks, nodding along to his words, pulling him closer. Edan doesn't noticed at first but once he sees it, the young elf becomes bashful. "What kind of warrior do you wish too be?" Edan feels his breath tickle his face, "I... I don't know... whatever is close enough to what father is."


Jarod dips him, sweeping him off his feet for a moment before righting and getting even closer, "you adore your father very much,
Don't you?" Edan eagerly nods, looking over to his father, watching him dancing intimately with his mother despite his little brother Tadeas betwen them. "I've heard all the stories, how he was imprisoned and what he's done... father wasn't wrong but not right either. I want to be good as he is now."

"This makes you want to be an Illidari?" Edan nods, their noses brush for a moment and the young elves breath hitches, "I-I do, very much." Jarod hums, cupping his back, holding his hip gently. Edan was beautiful, as capturing as his mother, "but he won't let you become one?" Edan shakes his head, "no, I understand why... it is painful and may even kill me... I've seen how it's done. Father showed me." It was a beastly process and elves that endured it became very powerful.

The song ended but Jarod and Edan didn't notice, immersed in their own little world.

 




Watching his mother, his father. It was like seeing the stories come to life. She wasn't much of a fighter, but father made up for that in heaps, while she gave him strength back and healed his wounds. Father didn't even flinch as he was gashed, no sooner it happened it was gone with one of his mothers spells. Edan was in awe, mother said she fought Gul'dan, brought father back and continued by his side as though ten thousand years of separation didn't exist between them.

Edan wasn't allowed to help, he was only permitted to watch because Jarod was there to protect him and his siblings, should any demon get passed. Argus was a hell space and it was his fathers duty to clean it.

There was finally, finally a pause in fighting where Edan was allowed to scurry into the field, dodging husks of demons as he made his way to his father and mother, no sooner were they joined by Maiev and the archmage, Khadgar.

Edan had only ever heard of Maiev Shadowsong, the warden that imprisoned his father.

"Maiev," Illidan greets with a short snarl, wings beating behind his back. The warden doesn't even look at him, for one terrifying moment, Edan thinks she's looking at him. He can't tell, not with that helmet of hers, but the way her body jerks and how her throat bubbles with a disgusted growl, he knows.

Father always was a serious man about things, about his mother and his children and even simple things. He taught Edan to be clever. He taught him not to feel bad when people tried to make him. But something in Edan went cold, helpless when the warden looked at him.

"Ah," her awful voice rasped, fist on her propped hip, glaive clutched "the Betrayers spawn. How sweet." Edan had been called this before, had heard many call him worse. Fowled Stormrage children, third bred whelps. He was especially called the tainted prince.

Kair was glaring, closed off and clintching her fist, Tadeas was too little too understand and was clutching mothers staff.

"I had heard you'd given life to one son, not three," Maiev makes a show of looking Edan from the ground up, seemingly unimpressed.  "I'm a girl!" Kair snaps, making her pretty face fowl with a frown and scrunched nose.

"It seems as though I have a whole new generation to chase-" "my children are none of your concern." Maiev laughs at this, making father angry. "Of course they are. Look at them. Demons." She sounded so sure.

This time mother speaks up, in a voice Edan has never heard before, "you forget your place warden. Don't make me remind you." Maiev ignores the jab, focusing solely on Edan now, "my my," she drags on, "he looks just like you Betrayer, too little for his wings, maybe I should cut them off?" Father looked furious, "sister enough. What have you come here for?" Illidan whips around, facing mother.

Over the years Edan has watched his parents, she looks up at him with golden eyes and his pain and hatred is all but vanished, it was as if they were speaking to each other. It was amazing to Edan.

Jarod and his sister were arguing, hushed yells, but yells all the same. Edan goes to his father, looking worried. "Do not listen too her little moon," mother says as he comes. Mother was beautiful, Illidan has her hand in his, Edan shakes his head "it's okay. I have heard this all before, father said to let it go," Illidan nods, ruffling his feathery hair.


"You are no demon, son." His father had a warm voice, one that resonated in Edan's bones and made him feel safe. "I know." Out of the three of them Edan was most like his father, although Kair was a girl and wouldn't look like a dread lord, Tadeas might one day. Edan hasn't reached his full maturity and father said he could not say what would befall Edan when he did. Illidan was turned into a demon, not born. It was a scary thought.

Mother kept saying he was only a third of one and father was half, arguably father looked more then half, what with the hooves and horns and all. Mother promised it wouldn't matter, that nothing would change at all. Edan was content with that much.


Edan stays up, listening to the sounds of nature around him. Mother was humming a song upstairs and father was laughing at something. Kair was asleep in Tadeas room last Edan had seen, but here Edan sat, upset and confused.

Edan knew disturbing his parents was wrong, but he goes anyway, talking the wooden door until he was called in, mothers soft voice rung out, Edan goes through. Father was laying on his belly, hooves on his pillow as mother tended to his tattered wings. She had a wet cloth in her hands and he was looking lazily up at the door with a content, dopey smile.

"Hello little moon, come here" mother always made him feel better, even if he felt babied. Edan was careful of his fathers wings as he sat on the bed. "What's wrong?" Edan huffs, shrugging, where too begin?

"Why are you and father together? How did it happen?" Mother seems to perk up at his question, smiling wildly "oh my. Let me see. Your father and I grew up together, he was smitten-" "so smitten," Illidan chuckles, flexing like a cat. Edan finds his father amusing, laughing behind his hand. "We both were... we had a lot of trouble finding each other however, one day he disappeared." The trouble was aunt Tyrande and the disappearing was the black temple. "We've always just been.. connected in a way I suppose." Edan nods, playing with their blanket.


"Were you afraid of father? You said I look just like him, so when you saw what he became, did it frighten you?" Mother seems to pause her cleaning, looking at him with a little worry, Illidan turns his head, thick brow tilting, "no... he didn't- I was more angry that he left me and died-" father snorts loudly, interrupting her. "But no, not afraid... what has you asking this little moon?" Edan bites his lip, "well... I-"

"Who is she?" Illidan is smugly smirking at Edan, "w-what, father I-" "you wouldn't be asking why we're together or what your mother thought of me if it wasn't about a woman." Edan clamps his mouth shut, embarrassed, should he even say?

"Oh Illidan," mother scolds, batting his wing "it isn't. It must be what Maiev had said. Little moon if you think people will be frightened of you if you grow to look more like your father-" "no mother... fathers... right." Illidan looks triumphant, mother doesn't look amused by his posturing. "Well, who is she?"

"... Jarod," a beat.

Silence.

Edan felt crippled by the quiet, he shouldn't have spoken.

"She is a he..." Illidan muses, more pondering then anything, "you couldn't have picked any other man to be interested in?" Edan almost chokes. Mother sighs, going back to his fathers wings, "so the real questions than, little moon" Edan is frazzled.

"How did you know you loved father?" Mother shrugs, "this, I just knew. I love your father with all my heart. Since we were young, all that time apart." Illidan looks struck with affection, melting into the sheets as she cares for his wing, "do you love Jarod?" Edan didn't know, he didn't know what it was suppose too feel like, so he shrugs, "I... I want too- but... but what if I grow horns or claws or-" "slow down," Illidan tells him, "if you do than you do. This is something I have cursed you with-" "not cursed!" His mother stresses, upset.

"But have given nonetheless. If Jarod or any other is not accepting of this fact than they are not worth the interest." Mother was nodding to his words, little annoyed by his earlier statement. Father told him once that power excites interest and father has gotten plenty of attention. Edan was born into a powerful name from a powerful sire. He would carry the Stormrage name, but everyone else would be saying it. Mother was a powerful woman without father, his uncle Mal and aunt Tyrande were all marked in history. It was a massive burden to bare. Another thing father said he has cursed his children with.

Edan was afraid he wouldn't live up too it all and said as much in a terrified whisper, Illidan grips his sons leg with a firm hand. "I'd be glad if you didn't. I'd rather this name fade with me. It was never yours to take, humans want so much to be remembered. I'd rather be forgotten and left too peace." Asch shakes her head, smiling, "he's lying. Never once has your father been humble about anything." Illidan flinches badly, looking offended.


But he didn't dispute her claim.


Edan knows what love looks like when he looks at his parents, feels warm and safe when they look and speak too him, but he didn't know what it would feel like. What it meant to be in love. Edan has heard Illidan and Asch, the story of his parents love. It was one of the most known and ageless tales. Their love made him first, the redemption of the Betrayer. Mother liked to say that they made Edan with so much love nothing inside or out of him was tainted by demonic energies. Mother romanticized it of course, father told him the truth of it.

He was as much demon as his father was, but what mattered was how he decided to act upon it. Edan had no connection to any demonic powers, that he knew of. Edan wasn't about to try and make one either.


"Little moon?" Edan snaps back, blinking at his father, who is right side up on the bed and looking tired. Edan realizes how late it has become, "so-sorry!" He squeaks, clambering off the bed, his mother smiles "if you need to talk about this or about anything else, we will listen little moon," Illidan nods, yawning lightly. "Now off too bed," he commands, Edan does as told, wishing them a goodnight.


Edan was too little for his wings, this was obvious to anyone who watched him carry the massive weight. Still Illidan made sure he held his head high. And like his father, Edan's wings acted upon his emotions, flaying and twitching. They would open in his flurry and almost tip him over. Mother said he looked very cute all puffed, it reminded her of his father. Edan felt a little proud about that. They were the exact same size and shape as his fathers, although less tattered and beaten.

"Edan! Watch it!" Kair was behind him, getting batted in the face, she smacked and pushed the offender, growling at him with hatred, "mama helped be put this braid in!" It was thoroughly ruined, Edan puckered his lips, biting into his cheek not to laugh.

"Daddy!" She wails, bouncing her body in bratty frustration, their father saunters in, looking pensively at the two, "he ruined my hair!" Illidan frowns in confusion, "what am I to do about it? Go find your mother" Kair stomps off growling all the way. "I didn't do it on purpose..." illidan chuckles, leaning into the bookshelf. "Smarter men than I say that without tails or wings animals would be unbalanced and clumsy, apparently that didn't apply to animals who weren't born with them." Edan makes a confused hum, all his father does is flick out his own wing, batting the air.

"The lord of the temple was not very graceful," Edan blinks, connecting the pieces, than laughing outright. His wings shake with his body, "you? Really?" Illidan nods, a smug look on his face, "I knocked a few people over more then once. Khadgar even. Don't tell him I told you. It was his fault- he shouldn't have been behind me." Edan hasn't toppled anyone over yet, he's come close with Kair but he's only gotten himself stuck or knocked inanimate objects over.


"Sit still," his father says in a more serious tone, Edan feeezes, taken aback as he approaches. Illidan grabs his sons jaw gently, tilting his head down, "is it inching here? It's bruised- have you been scratching?" The pads of his fingers touch the tender spots on his crown, light fanning over them inspecting it. "Y-yeah... what?!" Illidan strokes his hair back, looking at his son with a light expression. "You're getting horns" his father always had the ability to make terrifying things seem like no big deal at all.

Still, Edan gulps, looking up at the incredible poker face his father wore. "Oh," is all he says at first, touching his forehead "that's okay... right?" Illidan snaps out of whatever trance he was in, "it will be."

The horns broke his skin and made his hair matted and bloody only a few days after his father discovered he would have any at all. His mother was cooing over him and tendering washing the clots of blood away around the stem. "They are thick, wide." She muses, touching the still blunted tip. They didn't poke more then an inch off his head.

"They'll grow big... for the shape- I can't say right now. Does it still hurt?" It was hurting now. But Edan lies. Father told him too since mother worries so much about all the changes he was going through. Father said he'll never forget when his wings sprouted, how loud his mother had screamed. They thought he was dying.

It was like something was trying to push out of his brain. Father said that's exactly what was happening. They were dormant on his skull, waiting like wisdom teeth to rip out of their hiding. It would hurt until they grew a few more inches away from his head. Then he wouldn't feel it at all.

His father even offered to help him cut off whatever emerged. Edan said not to brother since they would have to keep doing that.


However, more and more people kept looking at him as an enemy. Friends of his parents said just how much he looked like Illidan, Edan looked at himself and saw something that scared him.

He had no claws, but his hands were dark and blackish, when he bled it was green. The tainted prince indeed. Edan stares at the figure in the mirror. Pulling his hair back. Even without the tattoos he looked like his father. He looked like the lord of the temple. Father still had the royal air about him, but it was softened by family and his mother, who tempered out all the poison his father had. Edan was born without poison, created without taint.


Yet...

Edan flexes his wings, he hadn't been getting better with controlling them, but he could fold them out to the real size. The water at his feet ripples as he tilts his head, looking at the figure before him. In the shimmer he almost looked like it.

The Betrayer.

Edan shakes his head, heart pained. Father wasn't like that anymore, Edan certainly wasn't like the demon his father escaped. He wouldn't become it either, no matter how similar everyone said they looked.

"Well well. The little prince." Edan's chest caved, but he didn't show it. Maiev would eat him alive. "Warden," he tilts his head in respect, mother said always to show respect. Still, Maiev doesn't seem to like the show of it and snarls. "Finally embracing your heritage I see," her head jerks to his horns, Edan lifts his hand to caress one. They hadn't gotten very big yet, but it was obvious he had them.

"What do you want Warden? You wouldn't speak to me unless you had purpose too." Maiev laughs at him, Edan swallows bile and steels himself, like father would. "You're so much like him. It's sickening. Very well prince, you are right. I did want to speak too you." Edan waits for her to continue.

"I shackled your father like the animal he is and I'll do the same to you the second you step from your precious light." Edan can't help but feel anger at her words, it came blazing and hot, ready.

"You're a disgusting woman," he spits darkly, surprising the Warden into actually flinching. "Calling my father an animal, calling me demon fowl. Who do you think you are? No one will remember you save for being a footnote in my fathers life!" He didn't know where this rage came from, but it boiled over like bubbling water.

"You act as if you're the all mighty, that your powerful enough to subdue him, me. If it is anyone- you should be shakled!" His voice howled over in a tone he's never heard before, from himself. Edan has heard it plenty enough before.

From demons.

Edan didn't even realize he advanced her, not until he saw the gleam of her glaive in front of his eye. Edan cranes away, the blade almost slices his throat. Sudden panic envelops him. He has been this close to death. The Warden didn't seem to notice this, Maiev was in her own state of emergency, heaving and panting under her helmet as she undoubtedly stares at him with shock and awe.

Edan still riding his high, says: "animal."

"Edan?!" The battle is struck to the dust when Edan sees from the bushes Jarod, full of twigs and leaves. "Maiev?!" Edan flaps his wings, scowling despite who came.

"What's going on?" He asks, worried.

"She's threatening me," god. He sounds just like father.

"Maiev!" Jarod howls. How sweet.

"Tried to kill me," mother is going to be very mad at him.


Edan felt too smug, he crosses his arms, glaring into the pond as Jarod explodes on his sister. Very much like father. In fact, Edan almost couldn't see a difference.

"You threatened him? Tried to kill him?! Are you insane? When does this crusade end sister?" Jarod sounds just as exasperated as father and mother always do when talking to the warden. "This is Asch Redfires son-" "and Illidan's spawn," Maiev interrupts, as if it was a good excuse.

"And Malfurion Stormrage and Tyrande Whisperwinds nephew-"

"Yes my family is very important," Edan snipes, having enough of it. "But she didn't threaten my family. She threatened me. So I will deal with it. Not my family." Father said he was happy with his son making no legacy of his line, but Edan wasn't going to just be known because of his father, his aunt or mother. He was going to be known for himself, what he had become. And this is where it begins.


"You've said it before, Warden. I am a watery third bred, as is my sister and baby brother. What, if anything- can I do?" This silenced the siblings, "all I have ever wanted was to help people, like my father is now. I do not want to rule over temples, slaughter and enslave. I want to be a warrior. I want to be left to peace." He snarls the last bit, exposing his teeth too her, "I do not want to be the tainted prince."


Jarod looked struck by his confession, pained even, but Edan is too hurt to care. "Leave me be Warden," he says as a sigh, "leave my father, leave my mother. Leave us be."


A long, silent moment with only crickets to fill the gaps.

"Go, Maiev" Jarod commands in a low, hissing sigh, shoulders slumped. The Warden jerks, her armour making a sick clicking noise. She huffs, disgruntled and angry, it tells Edan that it isn't over.

"When did those come in?" Jarod's voice is softer, more welcoming. "A week, maybe more?" Edan childishly tries too look up at his head, tilting it comically, giving the other elf a better look. Jarod chuckles, waking closer and scrunching the grass under his plated feet. "Control your wings yet?" Edan spin around and fluttered them, swaying them and amusing Jarod.


The elder elf chuckles, shaking his head "I can't fly but... it's something?" It was bazaar how easy it was too talk to the other.

"Say..." Jarod smirks lightly, crossing his arms, "you wouldn't happen to be going to Khadgar and Modera's wedding?" Edan knew his parents were attending and he had yet to answer if he was. "You are?" It was surprising considering the Mage and Jarod weren't in the same circle.

"Yes, Modera invited me." Edan inhales sharply.

"Yes of course!"

Chapter Text

Asch was frantic, the council room was askew.

"Where is Anduin! Where is my husband!" Asch fists the fur across the arm rest of the kings throne. No one could really answer her. Genn was gone, as was Velen. No one here knew where he went. Anduin didn't even tell her.


The queen was terrified. What had happened too him? The guards were just as tense. "Beg your pardon my queen, but please. Hold yourself." Asch shoots the adviser a thick glare. Then realizes that she was acting ruler. So long as Anduin was away his queen was in command.

Asch never thought she would have to do this. "I... I-" Asch stutters, watching them all look at her. Anduin would not want her fumbling. "What do I do?" Asch knew it didn't sound very leader like. The adviser gives her a wrinkled smile. "Nothing of immediate attention my queen. Just care how you speak. I know you are distraught but it does no good to worry the soldiers." The royal guard was already tense with worry. Still, Asch nods. Straightening herself and quietly worrying over Anduin.


"You should not be here!" Genn hisses loudly, looking upon the face of his sad king. "I had to see it." Anduin insists, moving passed them.

"Anduin..." Velen protests weakly, watching the boy. Anduin had never seen such horrors as this. Not with his own eyes. The ashes of his father lay in the fel soaked dust. Velen pities him, feeling his own sadness well up.

Anduin brushes the dirt, heart beating in his ears as he uncovers shalamayne. The battered hilt was heavy as he pulled it.

Velen watches curiously as the light shines around him. The he jolts, mouth agap. He was having a vision! Velen could feel the magic of the light, it was so strong amidst the fel energy. The light beats like a drum, humming out waves of power. It blinds Genn but Velen has never seen more clearly.

Anduin turns and in the young kings hands was his father weapon, revived shining with light magic.

"What now little cub?" Velen sees fit to ask, staff scrapping into the dirt. Anduin eyes the weapon, furrowed brow. For a moment he doesn't answer, too focused. Velen watches him grip the weapon in both hands, holding the blade close to his face. Anduin grits his teeth, the weapon resists for a moment. Then, In a magnificent burst of light, it becomes two. Anduin reguards the weapons, trembling.

"Now it is time the king of Stormwind does what he must."

Velen can almost breath in the light magic, it froths around Anduin. It made his light hair even blonder. It looked utterly transcendent. Genn swallows hard, watching it all unfold.

They go without another word and Velen smiles.

The little cub had become a lion.


Asch was perched upon his throne, worrying the hem of her dress, "attention for the king!" Asch whips to the mouth of the hall, gasping lightly "Anduin!" Asch hurries off the marble steps, losing her shoes down the hall as she races too him. Anduin flintches, confused as she bolts. Anduin opens his arms.

"Darling! My love!" Asch babbles, uncaring of the world around her. Anduin chuckles, twirling her. "Where were you!" He slows them, holding her up against himself. "I was worried sick! You left in the middle of the night!" Her pretty face frowns, glaring at him. Anduin lets her down, sheepishly grinning at her blunt anger.

"It was important... I'm sorry." He gestures to the sword at his hip. Asch ogles it, "Shalamayne? You found it?!" Anduin nods, tapping the hilt with his palm. "It was too dangerous for you... I was worried you'd follow if I told you." Asch smacks him in the chest. Anduin is thrown off by it, but then she latches into his middle, hugging him.

"You silly man. Don't do such a thing again!" Anduin pets her hair, eyes fluttering closed. "I won't-" Genn laughs, snorting loudly. Anduin eyes him with a confused smile. Genn waves his hand, chuckling about something to do with women. Anduin thought it best not to ask.


Anduin knows lions. His father always made sure he knew what capable beasts they were, why it was the Alliances crest. Lions were terrifying powerhouses. Made of muscles and rage. Anduin pulls his shoulders back and stalks, crawling along the bed as Asch giggles at him. Anduin kisses up her knee. Running his nose over the flesh. Lions trail their mates, wait from them to present. They mount them, lick and nip at the flesh of the neck.


Anduin's hands draw up her soft flesh. Asch slides down into the bed, hair fanning out and legs spreading nicely. Lions protect and loom. Anduin lowers himself. Fitting perfectly between her legs. Asch paws at his throat, trying to pull him close. Anduin fills her, groaning at the heat.

Asch pulls back into the pillows, keening and shaking. "Oh..." she mutters, scoring his skin with her nails. Anduin nips her flesh, purring around his teeth. Lions were rough, so was he.

Usually, they made love. Anduin was never rough with her, never tried to go beyond light marks and a little teasing. But Anduin was no cub. No white pawn.

Anduin was a lion.


Anduin bites her throat, harshly. Asch bares it for him, submitting like a proper lioness. Anduin finds it alluring. His father always told him base instinct was what made kings mighty. What you feel at your core was right. His father always followed that rule, even in death. Varian's base instinct told him to protect his pride, his kingdom. His son. Anduin was beginning to understand. Following what felt right.

Anduin pulls out, much to his wife's displeasure, surprise overtakes Asch as he flips her, burying his cock before she had a moment to protest. This. Body draped over her, hiding her flesh and consuming. Anduin drops his head between her tight shoulders. Breathing in her scent. Asch pants, groping behind her to catch his foreharm. Anduin allows her to claw at his arm. He was gripping a chunk of her neck in his jaw. Drooling lightly around the flesh.

Asch shutters, looking absolutely ruined in the furs. A mighty lioness. Asch bows deeper. Pushing her plump ass into his ramming pelvis, she whines his name overtaken by lust.

Anduin beats her into the pillow with his hips, forcing her forward with each thrust. The beautiful queen bends to his will, allowing him complete control.

"And-" Asch squeaks, her whole body is pressed into the bed, her breasts flat and rubbed into the sheets.

She was stressed to tightly the bed, no breathable space- "quickly my queen I heard your- oh my," Wrathion yelps out the words, his heart stinging. Anduin shouts, looking baffled and red. The black dragon was equally shocked, the pair were on the bed, the king curled over his queen. The sheets were askew, "Wrathion fucking hells!" Anduin snarls ripping the sheet over his wife. The black dragon only stares at their red faces, sweat covered bodies.

All too suddenly he snaps back, snorting as if it was a joke, "being a little too rough are you?" He gestures to the screaming queen, the piece of his heart clearly hidden between her supple breast. Now he understand what happened. "When I said keep it close I hadn't ever thought..." he almost laughs. Only this would happen to poor Anduin. The king colours and glares, fusing his hair away from his face. "Idiot- leave!"

"Ha!" He snipes, laughing now, "yes yes of course-" "wait!" The queen still under her king yelps for their attention, "what... what if he stayed?" Anduin shakes his head, a confused look upon his face, "what? Stays..? Wha- no. What? No!" Asch glares thinly at her husband. Wrathion quiets, now intrigued.

His ears can pick up their whispers very easily, "it's your fault he's here if you hadn't pushed me so hard into the bed," Wrathion quirks a brow, "and that means he should stay? Why do you want him to stay?!" Asch's eyes dart away, face colouring a whole new pink. "Asch," Anduin says, understanding what she wants "you aren't serious? That's not proper-" "no one knows he's here. It could be our secret. You owe me for leaving without warning!" Anduin huffs, frowning "so you think I'll allow another man inside you?!" Wrathion licks his lips, his mouth was going dry.

"Anduin!" She snaps, but he doesn't back down. "What? It's what you're asking! Unbelievable-" "it isn't like that!" "What is it like then?! Tell me!" Asch doesn't have an answer, by the look of shame on her face. Anduin snarls lowly, eyes growing darker, "Wrathion. Come here."

The black dragon almost feels like he was floating with how quickly and smooth his steps are. Wrathion stops short of climbing on the bed, knees pressed into the mattress. "You will not finish inside of her, you won't leave any marks and this will never happen again. Now get undressed."

Anduin pulled Asch into his lap. Making her squeak, Wrathion hurried out of his clothes, even the turban upon his head, hiding his black horns. Despite his warning Anduin himself bites deeply into her neck, making her cry out and squirm in his iron hold. Wrathion glances at his hands, fingers dipping between her cheeks. Anduin nips her throat and Wrathion watches an uncomfortable look cross Asch's face.

"You wanted it," he snaps, hand jerking between her legs, "come here." He beckons Wrathion, the black dragon clambers behind the queen, the soft pillows cushioning his fall as Anduin pushing him down with his free hand. Now the dragon can clearly see his fingers at work, opening up her arse.


The queens cunt is shiny, raw and pink. The lips were swollen and her wetness was sliding down her thighs. Wrathion inhales heavily, finding it difficult to breathe.

"Have you ever seen a woman before?" Wrathion shakes his head, gulping. Anduin smirks gently, a smile almost breaking the cool exterior, "you never do get used to the sight..." Anduin looks at Asch, winking. Asch grips his shoulders, whining as he opens her.
"Go on," Anduin prods, kissing the side of her face. Wrathion yelps when Asch grabs him, keening as she holds his cock still.


"It's her first too..." Anduin says, helping her down into Wrathion. Asch moans obscenely loud as he's sheathed, "Anduin! F-full- t-to full..." Wrathion feels his cock squeezed, "I know baby, look how good you're doing." Wrathion can actually feel the drag of Anduin's cock inside of her. The black dragon had heard of humans doing this, he never believed it. Just like dragons, humans were horribly possessive. Wrathion himself thought Anduin was too strict for such a thing. Still the king surprises him.


"Sinful," he starts voice wrecked, "isn't it?" Wrathion chokes out a laugh as Anduin moves his hips, forcing them all the move at his will. Wrathion has no control over what's happening. He suspects that was by design.

"I... understand why... why you mortals," Wrathion moans, fisting the sheets as Asch tightens around him, "would kill for this." This time Anduin chuckles, more put together sounding. Wrathion hates it. "I'd kill a titan for this." Wrathion believes him. Asch falls back onto him, grabbing his hands and placing them on her full breasts. Wrathion squeezes them, mouthing at her neck but leaving no marks.

"Mhm..." Anduin grunts, watching while shifting his hips. "Do you want him inside of you?" Anduin asks, ripping at her exposed jaw, marking it harshly. "He- he is!" Asch moans, clutching at Wrathion's hands.

"No, inside you?" Asch halts, looking up at her husband, "o-okay-" sudden the pressure building in Wrathion dies away and Anduin moves off, completely. Taking Asch with him. "Do not finish inside." He eyes the dragon, Wrathion eyes him back, "go on," he instructs, leaning back.


Asch mounts Wrathion's hips, pulling his cock back inside her, this time it fills her warm cunt, Wrathion stares with wide eyes, shuttering at the wet feeling. Anduin watches with no hidden amusement as his queen sets to the task, mounting the ever transforming dragon. Wrathion was terrible at holding his human apperence, the claws that gripped the plush of her hips, flexing but not daring to mark them. "Ah-hah..." Asch whines, throwing her head back.

Smoke billows from his nose frantically, the excitement in his red bloody eyes had Anduin humming, egging the dragon on. "You've told me once before your males are dominate, correct?" Wrathion can only manage a dumb, unfocused nod, Anduin grins. "Then why aren't you?" It was a taunt, it was permission. This Wrathion heard properly. The two share a look and Wrathion lets Asch abuse his cock for a moment, rocking into the bed until he decides.

In one swift movement, Asch is on her back, digging her body into the sheets, mewling. Wrathion is predatory, the slits of his eyes were thin as needles. Anduin smirks at his snarling, head in hand as he watching his wife jolt under the pressure of Wrathion's rutting. It was violent and she was howling. Anduin wonders if the guards can hear.


Asch yanks Wrathion down, consuming his lips with fever, a string of saliva threads between their open mouths, “harder- faster oh god please!” Wrathion hisses, ramming his hips into hers. Asch squeals, arching into his body, their bellies press together. Wrathion puts a hand under her back, holding her without a choice. Asch clings too him, clawing at his hair, pulling him to her.

Anduin sighs loudly, pleasantly. Asch tears away from Wrathion, looking right at him. “Baby-“ she chokes out a moan, “want... you- oh!” Wrathion pistons his hips, Anduin tuts.

“We’ve made her wanton,” Anduin crawls forward, “lift her,” Wrathion mindlessly does as told, Asch falls onto his chest, sucking his neck. Anduin positions himself between her cheeks, slipping inside without friction. Wrathion jolts, the pressure against his cock increases as Anduin fillls her other hole and Asch starts squeezing his cock in pleasure.

The queen lets out a mewl, unable to stay up, Anduin kisses her hair, rolling his hips, “you lift her?” Wrathion was vaguely insulted Anduin didn’t think he could. So he pulls her up in a swift motion, both their cocks almost taken from her warmth before he drops her back down with a force that has her freezing.

Anduin grunts, smirking. Meeting every drop of her body with tilted hips, making the angle erratic and new.

Wrathion watches with hooded eyes as Asch just takes it, head now resting on her kings shoulder. Wrathion’s eyes dart too her open neck, he can hear he pulse and see the cords moving in her throat. Anduin eyes him, rubbing his hand over the soft flesh as his other toys with her swollen breast.

“I suppose it can’t be helped,” his voice was guttural, wrecked and deep, “once. Only once.” Wrathion wanted to snort, he was undoing all his own rules. Wrathion licks his teeth before bitting into her flesh. If he was allowed only once, he would make it good.

Right against her pulse, he bit then sucked until she was squirming and begging for more. Anduin dips his head, creating his own harsh mark.

“C-coming-!” She blurts before screaming, Wrathion lets her jerk her hips, chasing her wild pleasure. Anduin growls, stilling inside. Wrathion eyes Anduin, challenging him as he breaks the last rule.


Anduin wasn’t happy at all.

Asch was laying there, completely used and boneless, reduced too jelly. “I told you not too,” he muses, softly wiping away their copious amount of semen. Wrathion’s was a tad more yellowish in colour and ozzing quickly out of her. Still the dragon helps, holding her thighs open as the king cleans it all.

“You also said no marks and yet.” A big, black and ugly mark surrounded her beautiful neck, lined with teeth and crusted blood. Anduin wasn’t amused with the retort.


Anduin finishes with a kiss too her shoulder and dumps the cloth, Wrathion straightens himself, readying to leave.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Anduin has a brow tilted, Wrathion pauses for a moment and that was enough to answer the kings question. “Oh no. Not after that. Get back here.” Wrathion was very happy too.


It was very normal for dragons to have two or more mates, consorts they were called.

It wasn’t however normal for humans.

Wrathion explained his part while Anduin and Asch did there’s. Asch would become his prime consort, his mate. Anduin by proxy would too.

For dragons this was simple. Alexstrasza had two mates, two males that birthed her children, two that gave her equal and separate attention. Wrathion was not interested in coupling with Anduin, too the kings relief, but he was still his mate. Wrathion viewed them both as such, Asch was his prime and Anduin was hers. However, the human side, their side was the difficult part.


Wrathion knew much of the politics, any children he fathered were bastards and scandals, while Anduin’s would be crown princes and kings, if they’re parentage didn’t come into question. Wrathion knewit would. Humans don’t like dragons, or women from what he gathered. Now that was appalling alone to the black dragon. Woman were the bares and mothers. The beautiful providers of life and love. Asch coos and kisses him for saying it.


The arrangement they made was annoying, but necessary. Wrathion was to maintain their friendship, which was easily done. He was not allowed too be seen entering or leaving the castle unless he was invited to stay. This was also easy considering his nature. Lastly, if he wanted personal time with his prime he needed to do it outside and far away from the caslte so they wouldn’t be caught. Anduin also needed an excuse for the absence of his queen so it wouldn’t raise any flags. Wrathion was a fantastic liar and promised to provide those excuses.


And under no circumstances was Wrathion allowed to get her pregnant before Anduin. What a delightful scandal that would be, the whole of the Alliance awaiting the nine months only to discover upon birth that it was a halfling, a dragon halfling of all things. Wrathion said he would know if the baby was dragonkin, but promised nonetheless to assure the kings line before his own.

Besides, Wrathion wouldn’t allow the humans too know of her pregnancy, he could easily help hide it and birth the child at his temple. But they would figure this all out later.


For now, Wrathion was content to have his new mate in his lap, holding his hands. Anduin looked pleased as well. Wrathion had never dreamed of this, humans were so jealous, so unlike dragons. People wondered how Alextrasza had two mates that never fought or hated one another, but it was easy because they loved each other. In different ways, but still loved. It was so easy too dragons. If you loved another, you courted them and their mates, if they had any.

Wrathion knew many dragons with many mates, the most he ever knew of was a green Drake with five chosen. Usually it was men attached to women, but this one had two other women that also mated with the three males. It was quite the circle, but it worked.

This would easily work too. Anduin was awful at lying or pretending and Wrathion knew when he was doing either. The king only looked fondly at his wife as he held her other hand. Yes this would work perfectly.

 

Chapter Text

Something had changed during her pregnancy and birth of of their child. Now Illidan wasn't opposed to this, watching Asch embrace motherhood was intoxicating and quite amusing. It begin with her snapping impatience, although that was a given because she was they combined have gotten five hours of sleep this week thus far.

Edan finally caught up and now was having difficulty sleeping without being close to his parents. Imprinting had two stages, the first was relating and becoming familiar. It was critical for babies to know who their parents were, know safety.

The next was independence, and Edan was having a hard time separating from them, especially his father. Illidan had spent too much time letting Edan sleep against his neck and now he couldn't sleep at all unless he was under his fathers chin.


Asch was deflating a little however, she was having what Illidan's female illidari call "the baby fat issue" this he didn't understand at all, but he knew when he saw it. She would be uncomfortable in anything she wore and feel unflattened. Illidan was confused by it, she had lost all the baby weight but she was still upset.

Asch was moody with everyone she met now, hardly giving them the time of day, this part Illidan found amusing.


"Shh," Asch softly pleads, bouncing the little elf "daddies busy-" Edan whines, crying despite the attention. Illidan could hear it, was pained by it, but could not indulge Edan.

"Little one, no no" Asch tries, sighing. They were both exhausted, Illidan moreso. His nerves were fraying and he twitches at the bone shattering wail. "By elune!" Illidan hisses, giving up and pushing away from the reports. Asch cringes, pulling Edan under her jaw, even as he snivels.

"I'm sorry-" Illidan waves her apology off, grabbing Edan, instantly he quiets, content now that he has what he wants. "You are a little thorn aren't you?" Edan babbles happily, tugging at Illidan's hair. Illidan glares thinly at his son, Asch smiles tiredly. "Go to bed. One of us should-" she protests, but he isn't having it. Illidan makes her lay down and only two minutes after she's out.

Illidan sits back in his chair, Edan is awake against his collarbone, drooling lightly on his fathers skin. Illidan ignores that, trying his best to return to the reports.

"You are going to be just like your mother," he sigh, idly scratching Edan's hair. That wasn't necessarily a bad thing, but he wouldn't command the respect and confidence Illidan possessed. Then again, looking at his tainted eyes, he had enough of Illidan in him.

There was a sharp knock that startled Edan into crying and Illidan into snarling. The rumble of his chest made his son calm, which amused Illidan for a split second before he swung open his door, shuttering the hinges. "What?" He barks. The Draenei before him was shaken a bit by the outburst, but plays it off quickly. "Your brother is here. He said he wished to see you."

Illidan had had enough of interruptions, even though he and Malfurion were getting along it was annoying he had to deal with this. Illidan takes no measure to step lightly, holding Edan in his palm as he moved to where the Draenei told him Mal was.

His brother looked more out of place then he did once Illidan found where he was. "Ah, brother- you look exhausted." Illidan spared him the obvious and grunts, "you wanted me?" Illidan hated small talk.

"Yes I did- he's gotten bigger." Illidan glances down, Edan was curiously looking between the two, looking with awe at Mal. "Hello little one," his brother coos, it makes Edan giggle and paw the air in front of him, Illidan knows what it means and prompts his brother to take him.

Malfurion always loved babies, most of elven people did, them being so rare. Even blood elves get excited about little ones. "I wanted to see if I could be of any use... Tyrande and I are... at odds in the moment and I believe it best to give her space." Illidan feels a little bad about that, since it was likely all because of Edan and the fight that ensued.
"I'm sure you could be. The prophet may have ideas for you. I'm... sorry to hear about you and Tyrande." Mal shakes his head, softly petting Edan's back, idly looking around the haul of the ship.

"It's no trouble, she needs time to think. What I am worried about is you. You and Asch must be exhausted. I told you this would happen." There was playfulness in his voice, a teasing sort that Illidan gives a smile too. "He's having trouble sleeping alone. Asch is resting now but... yes you are right. We are both exhausted," Mal hums, swaying side to side.

"You know. I have heard a tale about human twins," Illidan's brow furrows, his head tilted in question. "The eldest had a daughter and his wife and himself were run ragged, falling over themselves. The younger twin had taken the baby and the child could not tell the difference between the eldest and youngest. This allowed the parents some peace, for a time."


Illidan's curious frown turned into a wide smirk, "you could've just asked."

"May I babysit?" Cheeky Druid.

Illidan could see the story had merit however, Edan was sound asleep against his brothers beard. "Yes. You may babysit. Thank you." It was a weight off his mind, Mal smiles. "How long has it been since you slept properly?" Between the legion and the baby? "When was the Gul'dan incident?" Mal snorts at his poor attempt at humour. "And been intimate?" Now that was treading into some very deep waters. Illidan glares.

"Not since I saw what was inside of her." This was months ago. Mal looks upset for him, "his aura is-" "demonic yes." Mal peers at Edan, unphased by the news, "even when she was pregnant? You didn't?" Illidan shakes his head, Mal looks fully at him, unamused "I understand now- but mating is healthy. You should know best of all. We form connections this way... unless you...?" Illidan quickly shakes his head, "that has not changed. I still can." Mating in elven culture was how to create a bond, a tie to one another. Illidan had been neglecting this. Not on purpose, when she was pregnant he was terrified for most of it and now they had no time for it.


"Well," Mal says with determination, "I believe it's time you go fix that." His brother didn't allow for a rebuttal, he told Illidan he would be two rooms over and that Edan was completely safe. Illidan didn't doubt his son was cared for, but how he was going to explain this too his wife was a mystery.


Illidan watches her sleep, the slow rise of her chest and how she sighs and turns over into his side of the bed. He didn't have the heart to try and squeeze into the bed, fear of waking her, so he slumped in the chair and awoke only moments ago. Demons thankfully did not need a much sleep.

"Mhm..." Asch stirs awake and Illidan jumps at the opportunity, roving over her and kissing her cheek and neck eagerly.
"Illidan..?" Asch catches her baring and Illidan answers before she asks. "Edan is with my brother two doors down- he wants us to have some time to ourselves," Asch wipes her eyes with a yawn, smiling.

It only took moments to get her naked and interested. The soft pad of his thumb strokes between her wet lips, she bucks into his palm, moaning softly. There was a certain vulnerability when it came to being mated for thousands of years, but even this was new. Asch had never touched anything demonic on him overlong, she wasn't disgusted by any of it of course, but didn't bother to explore either.

Now she had a particular fascination with the base of his wings, right where the bones fused to his back. Illidan purrs at the attention, flexing his wings out because it felt very nice. "Ohh..." Asch arks into his chest, hands laying flat next to the base of his wings, attempting to push him closer. Illidan nips her throat careful of hitting her with his horns, then she grabs one.

Asch had done this a few times, mostly for balance, this time anchors his head down, lovingly petting the hard shell. "What's gotten you so affectionate?" He teases, Asch was always affectionate, but now it seemed much more, like she was trying to understand something about him. Illidan sated her curious touches before, she was honest and loving and never hurt any sensitive parts with rough jabs or callous treatment. Asch runs her hand down the loop of his horn, even touches the jagged spikes at the base. Illidan makes her jerk from his finger, liking how she shivered and lost her purpose.

"I... I like all of you," she says, undoing his ponytail, Illidan's brow furrows at her answer, "I w-want you to know t-that..." Illidan slows his fingers against her, struck by her honesty "I know that, little elf-" "no," she drags out, whining low as he rubs her clit "I like it so... so much-" Illidan feels the little fingers of her other hand distractingly rubbing the base of his wing. It makes him shiver and fault his movements. Illidan felt very loved, motherhood has made her very affectionate. "I-I don't want you... too- too think I won't love our baby-" she gasps, twitching into his palm "if... if he becomes like thi-this... I love it so much, I... I love you so much." Illidan fell in love all over again. Asch loved a demon, a demon who extended his taint to her child. She was the mother of his child and she thought it was a blessing.

"Gods above," he was breathless, amazed "I don't deserve you." Asch pulls him into another heated kiss, melting against him as he sinks between her legs.

They took their time, mapping out and marking each other's flesh like they weren't accustomed too it, like they were excited virgin's just wanting to feel. "Love you-" Illidan couldn't stop saying it, Asch was panting in his ear, struggling to whisper it back. "Love... you-" they both whine as he sinks back in, relishing the feeling. Asch kisses above his burnt eye sockets and Illidan falters again, his chest hurts like it was about to burst.

Asch nips his ear, biting the soft tissue, "harder- please," her voice was beautiful raspy, wrecked. Illidan cants his hips, biting into her flesh with greedy purpose. The one thing that hadn't changed was her enjoyment in being bitten.

"You're going to get me pregnant again," Asch says against his chest, laying sprawled out on the bed. "Will I?" He muses, teasing her. "Don't sound so smug about that." Male posturing was exhausting. Asch didn't even want to imagine how he would be if she got pregnant again. Illidan just laughs at her pouting, rubbing her back. "I should go feed Edan," Asch wretches up, patting the leathery wing as she crawls over him.


Asch and Illidan found Mal leaning over their baby on the plush bed, exciting him into fidgeting and giggling very loudly. Malfurion looked enchanted, waggling his pointer and cooing. "He's been good then?" Mal jumps at his brothers voice, "ah! Illidan- yes he has I was trying to tire him out. He's quite rambunctious." Asch laughs, picking up the baby from his spot.


"I'll be back- yes we will!" Illidan chuckles at her high pitched voice, it makes Edan squeal. "I'm glad too see he isn't being troublesome." Mal looks very happy, content. "No of course not, he's a delight. I can see what's been keeping you awake-"


A bloodcurdling scream erupts from the other room, "Asch!" Malfurion and Illidan. Edan began screaming in agony, Asch was staring in horror, "Illidan-! Somethings wrong!" Illidan slides on his knees as he got down on the floor, Edan was shrieking like a banshee, Asch had him turned on his side. Illidan watches the skin raise and rip off his shoulder blades, bones tearing out.

Mucus and green blood splattered the floor, flung in every direction as the bones fanned out. They were wings. Two little nubs no bigger then Illidan's finger, along with three muscles covered joints. "Heal it!" Mal shouts in a hurry, raising his hands. Illidan pulls Edan off the floor and into the air, Asch raised her hands, "focus Asch!" Her while being was shaking, her fingers vibrating in the air, the greenish healing spell, leaves and flakes of life fluttered around the air.

Before his eyes Illidan witnessed the skin form around the wounds of his wings. Over the joints and even the leather of the wing formed. Edan was still wailing, looking absolutely miserable, but now it seemed to be over. They were tiny and even twitches when Malfurion caressed the soft maroon leather.

"My moon! My precious little star-" Asch grabs Edan, burying him in her chest as she curled around him. Asch was crying against his hair, worrying her fingers into his soft flesh. Edan was sobbing quietly, looking upset rather than in pain. "Elune above! Thank the goddess he's alright," Mal heaves, sitting on the floor along with them.

Illidan is still high on adrenaline, panting though clintched teeth.

 

His was breathing heavy still, hours after the incident had occurred. Edan was now fine, sleeping against his mothers chest while she slept on his. Illidan pulled at the tiny wing, watching it unfold like his own. Edan did not wake, but made little noises and flexed the wing, tucking it back into his body when Illidan allowed it free. It unsettled him and he flapped his own, it jostled them and Asch huffs awake, groaning lightly.

“Sleep Illidan,” she moans annoyed, “you are no good too anyone without sleep.”


Illidan heaves a heavy sigh, rocking the two with his breath, “I cannot.” He grumbles, poking at the wing again. Asch bats his hand, easing upward with Edan. “Tell me then, what’s wrong.” Asch yawns, pulling the blankets off them. Illidan lays there simply watching as she arranged herself to sit up against the wall, legs hanging off his knee. Edan is in her weighted arms, he frowns.


“Do you believe me evil?” It was a heavy question, but she answered it easily enough, “no, I do not. Why do you ask this?” She rubs the sleep from her eyes, rubbing her pointer finger under her bottom eyelid. “Some think I still am,” it doesn’t bother him, Tyrande thought him a menace, a tyrant of evil and gain. “Why so?” She ponders, “because you destroyed the Narru? It was trying to force its magic upon you.” Illidan shakes his head, worrying his lip.

“What has made you love me?” He wonders, angry with himself. Asch frowns, “you know why. What has gotten into you?” Illidan snaps up, a fowl look upon his face.

“Tell me,” he demands, Asch is startled by his outburst, “why do you love a demon so? Birth my child?” It didn't make sense too him.

“Do you really not remember how we were?” He remembers being offstandish and disinterested because he was clouded by Tyrande. “We made love in the forest, the night before you disappeared. You said my hair looked as though it had lily flowers in it, don’t you remember the days we would stay up passed dawn and laugh?” There was not much time between his turning and dying. He had heard or seen nothing of her during the time of the temple, the last he remembers is that night and the nothing.

The next she came in his life was just as he was broken from the crystal. Now all this.

Asch touches his thigh, gaining his attention, “you aren’t really concerned about all that, so what’s wrong, really Illidan?” No he was not, he will never understand why someone such as she would love the likes of him, a demon, a betrayer. But she does, did and will forever now as they continue their future together.

“Edan,” he sighs, looking at the soft rise and fall of his sons back as he sleeps peacefully, “What I’ve done to him. How can you not think me evil, still love me? After what I’ve done to your child...”

Asch looks at him softer, annoyance forgotten, “you’ve done nothing too him Illidan. Look,” she holds him, turning his little body so it was pressed to her skin, her smiling face nuzzling into his chubby body with all the love in the world. “Look at my perfect little baby,” She coos, kissing his baby cheeks. Edan was sleeping still, but wiggles at the attention, “my little boy, how couldn’t I love you? Look at him Illidan.” Illidan does, watches how his mother cradles him, nuzzles him and lets flowers fall on his exposed belly.

“Don’t be upset,” She sounds so sad, “he’s so perfect, you're perfect.” The love Illidan felt outweighted his doubts. Illidan felt responsible for today, felt wretched he caused his baby pain. Asch clambers into his lap, kissing his lips before he can react, “my perfect family,” she coos, “yes...” he finally agrees.


Asch was delighted, but then looked rather serious, “promise me you’ll never say such things again, not ever.” Illidan smooths done her hair, pulling some flowers as he goes, “I promise. I love you little elf.”

“I love you too.” Utterly, undeniably perfect.


“You know,” she says playfully, “I remember saying I would love our baby no matter if he looked like you,” she kisses him again, “don’t you remember?” Illidan smirks, leaning forward like a predator, “I could do with a reminder.”

Chapter Text

A kiss pressed too her forehead, a hand in her soft fluffed hair. "Mhm?" She grumbles, wiggling in her chair. The wood stabbed her back, she hissed from being sore.

A chuckle made her open her shining eyes, "Elo," he teases, chuckling warmly. "Dobera..." the name fell off her lips, "Dooobera!" She rolled his name, enjoying the sound. Dobera liked it too, laughing as he crossed his arms.

The paladin hall was bustling today, but the two were sitting undisturbed by a table. Dobera's thick leg was stretched out on the surface, his tail looping on the length of it. The other paladin had his massive arms crossed, grinning down at her with fulfilled amusement and an all too knowing look.

"Stif, no?" He was making fun of her, Elowinn eases up, with no short of effort. The chair creaked with her movements, enticing an aching mewl from the back of her throat.


Dobera snorts through his nose, "this is why you don't sleep in chairs, Elo." She glares thinly at him, ruffled by his good mood. "Hush! Do not mock me when you sleep in bushes and trees! You forget who pulls the twigs and sap from your hair!" Dobera just laughs, not at all embarrassed by this.

"I don't forget, I am forever grateful Elo," he leans again, this time she pushes up, meeting his delightful smile as it forms into a kiss. His arms unfurl and his callused fingers dance across her jaw as they kiss sweetly. Elowinn's tail curls and her finger clinch the surface of the table, his tail bats at her nails until she grabs on too it.

Dobera's tail wiggles, it was much like the humans pet dogs, Elowinn often watched the thick appendage wiggle and jolt when he was angry or stressed. Now it seemed silly and made her laugh, ruining the kiss as she parts from him. Slowing squeezes the baby blue tail giggling as it acted back, jiggling between her enclosed fist.

"Like a pup," she says, laughing as his face soured a little, "it is sweet!" She tries but the damage is done, Dobera begins to pout, Elowinn giggles before kissing his cheek until she felt his smile.

"How late is it?" She says against his cheek, leaning into his body now rather then sitting. Dobera curls his arm around her middle, pulling her flush to his side. He gives her an amused look, "early. Three in the morning," Elowinn grows stiff, groaning softly again his shoulder, "which is why you are up," he nods, "which is why I'm up."

Dobera made rounds at night, directing and executing duties fit for a commanding officer. He must have been checking the perimeter, never trusting anyone to do it themselves. "Are you still needed?" Her fingers play with the nape of his neck, petting the back of his high fox tail, watching how her pale fingers almost blended with his snowy white hair.

"Another hour, than no. were you waiting for me?" Elowinn colours, of course she was. Dobera smiles, humming softly. "I'm sorry too keep you waiting," Elowinn shakes her head, "duty first darling." Dobera sighs, a deep rumble, nodding slowly. "Yes, I know."

"What is left?" She wonders, Dobera doesn't leave her guessing for long, "overseeing night changes and one more check around the grounds. I found a legion spy the other week. Can't be too careful-" Dobera's brow furrows in agitation, "it was in the grounds, no one noticed it! The on duty soldiers were slacking." Elowinn smiles, exasperated as she was, it was sweet of him too be such a hero about things. Even little things like this.

Righteous protector indeed, a shining example that made all the other paladins inadequate. "Don't be so harsh, it was righted in the end," Dobera exhales, "by me! I cannot trust anyone!" Elowinn coos softly, hugging his arm, "not everyone is Highlord, Highlord." She mocks, nuzzling her nose into his cheek. Dobera's ear twinges and she kisses it, laughing gently.

Elowinn pulls at his pauldron, whining. Dobera eyes her curiously, Elowinn pouts, “I hate your armour.” Dobera looks playfully offended, “you said I looked distinguished!” Elowinn’s pout forms into a seductive smile, pulling his arm closer, despite his plate armour coolness. “I miss your warmth...” this sparks knowing interest in his eyes. “Oh...”


“Oh?” She giggles back, kissing his cheek again. Dobera rumbles a purr, pulling her closer and pintching her hip with his wondering hand, “is my mate cold?” Elowinn shivers at his tone of voice, jumping when his teeth nipped at her exposed ear. “Dobera!” She yips, “someone could see!” He only chuckles, “can they? What will they see?” Her face colours as she leans away, glaring at him.

“Alright, I am sorry,” he wasn’t. It was clear on his face that he wasn’t one bit. “Wait for me than,” he tells her, getting up and leaving her embrace, “I will be but an hour.”

Elowinn feels pain erupt in her breast, but his quick hand pulls her pouting lips into a heated kiss, “I will warm you soon darling.”


Dobera pulled himself away, not daring too look back at his beautiful mates wide seeking eyes, the boarder of the chapel was long and he let his mind wonder with only the cold wind as his company.

It had been years, the longest ones he has ever had in his life. Dobera was by no means a young man, but he was not so ancient yet. To Velen he was a young man, a mere rambunctious and virile boy. To humans he was and other worldly elder, an old relic from a long forgotten husk. He commanded respect from humans and paladins when they saw him and sized his stature. Dobera was very large, a bull even compared to other Draenei. His knowledge of the holy arts far surpassed that of any mortal. They made him into a leader, the light in their darkening world.


Maybe it was because he had too much knowledge of the legion, maybe because they feared him, his lumbering loud and huge body did make him something to fear. Dobera was by no means quiet or sneaky, he had no need too be.

Dobera halted his charger, making it stop on the hill. His gaze fell to the dead of night, wondering to himself if he considered this more of a home now then he did Argus.

Elowinn and he had come from the broken planet, lived there and trained together. Many looked at her as a great beauty, a mysterious and almost unapproachable goddess. She was kind and gentle to those that were pensive of her, changing their minds about their people.

The inhabitants were very apprehensive of Draenei, they saw the legion warlocks and dreadlords and saw Dobera’s one people. They once were, Eredar. Dobera was once a proud Eredar, his people a whole until the separation.

Dobera loved his people, all his people. Even those who were forced under the legions thumb. It brought him no pleasure fighting and killing his once brothers and sisters. It hurt that people of Azeroth looked at him with animosity and fear. Hiding his anger was no easy task when he was looked at as an enemy.


Dobera heaves a sigh, squinting now before commanding his horse into a trot, his watch ended. The guards changed and all twelve said, “hail highlord!” In a loud, ear shattering manner that made Dobera cringe a smile. Those men respected him greatly, so he tried his best to acknowledge each one before he left.


In the same manner, much quieter now the sentinels nodded to him, muttering “highlord,” instead of screaming it. Dobera inclines his head to each, being equally respectful. Apparently the only other to do so was Tirion Fordring, his predecessor.

Dobera saw no sigh of Elowinn as he got to the inner sanctum of lights chapel. He thought nothin of it and ascended the stairs to their private room. Dobera dumped his shield and mace in his office before clambering too their rooms.

A broad smile captured his lips when he saw Elowinn sprawled on their bed asleep. She looked as though she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the soft pillows. Dobera clicked his armour off, pulling the hidden buckles and dropping them onto the side table.


Without making a sound he nestled under the covers, pulling Elowinn to him until she was sighing into his warm chest. Dobera closes his eyes, head pressed into the pillow beneath him. “Mhm-“ Elowinn grunts, wiggling slightly. “Dobe-?” She cracks her eyes open, “yes darling?” She seems calmed by his voice and melts back into place, content. “Safe?” She mutters, nuzzling his neck. Dobera lifts his head, grabbing his hair out of her face before it tickles, “yes. Safe.” It wasn’t long before she felt back into a listless sleep, Dobera easily fell along also content.

Chapter Text

The men were virile and the women were hard to impregnate. It made a lethal combination in bloodelven society.

Like all peoples it drove them, to breed and to continue a line of pure blood that would only hold the pedigrees of the parents. Lor’themar Theron had a plan in place for his people, they needed to repopulate. It meant all citizens, all royal blood. Even the lesser, dirtier people and there were. Despite being proud Sin’dori some were vile and shameful.

Rommath looked around him and found contempt where ever his gaze landed. Parties and celebrations, sex in the streets. Lor’themar was amused by it all. Like the festival of love all over again. It’s what was needed, he knew. It didn’t dampen the sick feeling in his stomach however.

“You need to find a women,” Halduron muses, looking over the fairer sex with a wink and smirk. Some girls giggled, brightly colouring at the attention. Most were staring, most were interested. Animals, Rommath schools his disgust. They were all acting like animals, awaiting too match up and breed.

The men around them were trying too be impressive, look more impressive then Lor’themar Theron or Halduron Brightwing. The two blondes beside him were the most well bred, the most powerful and they were still single.

Rommath was not golden, not a ranger-general, certainly not regent lord, none of the girls were giving him smiles. He wasn’t interested, not in them or their sexual interests. Rommath hardly believed himself very interesting too look at, his hair was inky black, his arms weren’t as big as Lor’themar’s, his legs couldn’t carry him as far as Halduron’s might.

Still a small, scared voice rose from behind the three of them, “h-hello-“ to say they were shocked was an understatement, the girls giggled and preened yes, but didn’t approach.

Lor’themar and Halduron craned their heads too look behind them, Rommath turns only slightly. Halduron was the first to spin, all too eager to say hello. The girl before them was hardly magnificent, her hair was rather long, reaching down to the small of her back. The girls cheeks were stained red and her face was pretty. Slivery blonde, of course Halduron was interested.

“Hello my lady!” He was loud and boisterous, yanking her delicate hand and kissing it before bowing low. “My lady,” Lor’themar adds, far more calm and dignified. Rommath simply inclines his head. “What can I do for such a beautiful lady?” The girl was blinking her beautiful eyes, nervously wringing her fingers. “I... I heard about- about the Nighthold-“ it was quick to dawn on Halduron just what she wanted and gets a devious sort of look about him.

“Oh,” He croons, “Rommath,” He turns on his heel to the Grand Magister, brows drawn in amusement, “she wants to talk to you,” Rommath flinches in confusion, finally looking at the girl properly. The blush reaches her neck and she’s looking at her feet.

Rommath knew his breeding, wouldn’t refuse a lady. He bows lightly, still confused, but speaks in a clipped tone, “yes?” Halduron scowls lightly at him, but he ignores it wanting this over quickly. “Is it true? About the magic?” She says quickly, scared. Rommath frowns, but she cannot see it, “yes,” he saying in his clipped tone again.

This excites her apparently, a little of her face unfolding into something more then nervous bashfulness. “Are they letting people through? Too see it?” Rommath’s brow furrows deeply “of course not.” The excitement dropped from her face.

“But Rommath would be delighted to take you through, won’t you Rom?” Halduron quickly interjects, “it isn’t safe for civilian’s!” He hisses, watching as the girls ears droop slightly. “But the Grand Magister would keep you safe, won’t you Rommath?” Lor’themar smirks lightly, amsused at the annoyed look he was given. “Such a beautiful lady should be protected, don’t you agree?” Anything Rommath said now would unwillingly force him into agreement too all this.


His mouth is in a deep step frown as he speaks through clinched teeth, “yes of course.”

Halduron was looking all too pleased with himself when they were finally alone in the spire. Rommath however was none the sort, “I cannot believe you have forced me into this- this foolishness!” He was appalled, furious. Halduron pouts boyishly, Lor’themar raises an elegant brow “What? The girl? What’s wrong? Just take her through the hold, what’s the problem?” He was a fool, Rommath always knew.

“It’s dangerous! Constructs and Mages still might be inside!” Lor’themar claps his shoulder “but you will be there, what could happen?” Halduron hums triumphantly, looking smug.

“What’s really bothering you? It’s not the Nighthold. Anything in there would be easy to dispatch- it’s the girl isn’t it? She’s beautiful and interested in magic for whatever reason, what’s wrong?” Rommath growls at him, angry at the questions, Lor’themar sighs lightly.

“Leave him be Hal, we should not have done this too you old friend, please forgive us.” Rommath grumbles, going back to his duties.

Lor’themar Theron had been many things, someone Rommath could talk too was not one of them, but here he was. Standing in the private chambers of his regent lord, as if it was usual. “I am unsure about this,” Lor’themar knew what he was meaning and listens, leaning back in his impressive chair, “what could this girl want out of the Nighthold-“ his serious upset was stunted by a snorting laugh from the regent lord.

Lor’themar schools himself, explaining his outburst, “she wants nothing from the Nighthold I assure you old friend. It is you she wants.” This puzzles the Grand Magister greatly, but he inquires still, “what could she want of me?” Rommath was proud, came from a proud family, but when surrounded by golden haired nobles who were far stronger then he... Rommath allowed himself to feel little and intimated. It was weak he knew, but true.

“It is the festival you know,” Lor’themar mocks with a smile, “how devious of her too look for a companion in you.” Rommath scowls at his playful tone. The festival... she wasn’t trying to court him was she?

“You have been no help at all!” Rommath huffs, walking away. The sound of his regent lords laughter vexed him.


Rommath was not expecting to find the girl eagerly awaiting him where he said too meet. She was nervously wringing her hands again, her dress was very lavish. It was a deep red, almost as if she was intending to match his robes. The silver hair was half up in intricate twists, while some hung down freely against her open back. Hanging off her arms was a heavier looking shawl. Rommath approached with hesitation, clearing his throat to get her attention.

The girl snaps up, blinking frantically at him, “oh! Grand Magister!” She curtsies, it was elegant, a sign of high upbringing. Rommath bows to her politely, “are you ready?” He asks, the girl nods, than pauses, laughing lightly.

“I’ve been so rude, I haven’t told you my name!” No she hadn’t, Rommath waits, with a tilt of his head, she wrings her hands again. “It’s Asch Lightbleeder.” Rommath was surprised, “your father is the High priest.” She nods happily, “yes! I wish to follow in his footsteps one day,” Rommath grunts, waiving his hand to open a portal.

He allows her to go first, then quickly gets behind her. The Nighthold was eerily quiet and flowing with magic still burning. The whole structure was supported by magic, the lights and the fictions. The doors and stairs. The Ley power room was fascinating too witness, especially when everything was working properly. Now it was only bare essentials running through the hold, better that way.

For a moment he lets her wonder, looking at the grand fountain as it still spurts water, Rommath wonders aloud, “if you wish to be a priest what has you interested in arcane magic?” She’s reaching on her tip toes to lean over and touch the cascading water, “oh w-well I...” her face colours and Rommath shows his displeasure, brow scrunching into his eye line.

“You do,” She blurts, surprising herself. Rommath is throughly debased by her answer, Lor’themar couldn’t have actually been right could he?

“What I meant- what I mean is...” Asch cringes, her pretty face twisting. “Lady Ladrin said you’ve... you’ve become m-most interested in th-this place and I... didn’t know how else to a-approach you!” The girl before him had two confusing ways of speaking, stuttering mess or awkwardly fast. This was somehow both.

Rommath cranes his neck, staring at her “is that so?” Is all he says, Asch nods frantically, looking ashamed.

“Let me show you the most intriguing parts than.” Her face lit up brighter then a fireball. Rommath lead her by his arm up to the nightspire, where the well of magic was still churning. Asch was bathed in the mesmerizing colours as she looked on, “Oh it’s beautiful!” She squeezes his arm to her chest. Rommath smiles lightly, “come there is more.”

Rommath took her to the high botanist’s gardens and picked her an arcane flower, “so long as there’s magic it shouldn’t wilt,” he tells her, tucking it into her hair. The lily looked too large to fit and dropped slightly, Asch gently touched the petals, pushing it further behind her ear before bending to pick another.

Asch plucks one from the bush they stood next too, gently rubbing her finger over the whitish blue petal before reaching up on her tip toes and feeding it behind his own ear. “I love flowers,” she says, making sure it was secure in his hair. Rommath peaks upward noticing the petal shake with her movements, “father would always bring my mother and I a rose home if he was gone for long.” Rommath feels foolish with the lily in his hair, but she looks so happy he doesn’t remove it.

“That is sweet of him.” And it was, Rommath knew the high priest, he was famous for doting upon his six daughters, at least when he had six to do so. After the wars he lost four and the fifth left home. Leaving Asch as the only child to love. Rommath had never met his daughters before, most knew of them but it was beyond him to be interested.

Until now, he supposed.

Asch took his arm again and Rommath believed it was time to return.

Knowing her name now meant he could be a gentlemen and return her home, they walked gaining some wondering eyes, but Rommath was uninterested in it, rather contently listening to Asch and her questions, answering when she looked up at him.

“Is it hard to control magic?” Rommath shook his head, “for a time, then it becomes easy.” It was draining some days, but not without worth. “What do you prefer to use?”

“Fire,” He was amused at her wonderment,
“Isn’t it the most dangerous one?!” She gasps, Rommath allowed himself to peacock only slightly. “It’s the only dangerous one.” They get to her estate just before sun down, Asch lets go and looks at him with twinkling eyes “thank you for showing me such a magical place!” Rommath bows, “it was my pleasure.” When he rights himself they have a moment of silence before she again, reaches up on her toes, this time kissing his cheek.

It was hard to manage, but she did it. Pecking the soft flesh before smiling, wringing her hands again. Rommath feels his heart warm, pulling his collar down he allows himself to kiss her once, a chaste peck on the lips that has her dizzy when he parts.

“Goodnight my lady.”

“G-goodnight Grand Magister!”


Rommath feels like preening as he enters the spire, his companions turn to his footsteps and he smirks at them, but they don’t know that.

“Why do you have a flower in your hair?” Halduron always ruined everything.

 

 

Chapter Text

Mother looked beautiful, her dress was light and airy, a black colour for father. If Edan was more childish he would be repulsed by how handsy his father had gotten, but it was more amusing then anything else. Even after all the years together and babies in between it was sweet too see father so smitten.


Fathers hands were low on his mothers hips as they swayed their hips together, grinding as the music playing became slow and deep. Illidan was grinning like a shark and mother was far to gone in the music to really pay attention to their inappropriate dancing. Others were doing the same, but it was the Stormrage family that was the interest. Khadgar and Modera were saying goodnight to guests at the entrance of the grand hall. Edan was bobbing along to the music, holding his sisters hand as she had her wild fun. Kair bounced baby Tadeas along to the music and he was giggling at the excitement.


“Your wings are moving again,” Kair huffs, Edan exhales, worried. They were beating with the music, having their own idea. “Mama says I won’t get wings, is that because I’m a girl, why did you get wings Edan?” Kair never asked him about his wings much, she only ever got annoyed when he hit her with them.

“I don’t know why I have them... why do you want them?” Kair shrugs, kissing Tadeas’ chubby cheek, “I don’t... daddy looks upset you have them, at least- ever since your horns grew... mama sounds worried too Tad hasn’t gotten his wings and mama said you got them after a few months.” Scariest time in her life, she told him.


Edan sighs, pulling his siblings closer, hugging them before pecking his sister on the forehead. “Do... do you think you’ll totally look like father?”

Edan snorts out a laugh, moving away “I hope everything but the hooves...”


Edan searches for Jarod, finding him with the couple of the night. “Sir Jarod!” He said that too excited, he cringes at himself, but the other elf perks, even his ears stiffen upward, “ah! Edan, a pleasure.” He bows lightly, smiling around his beard. “Thank you for inviting me, Khadgar, Modera.” The couple thank him and Jarod bids them a good evening before leading Edan away. “Those horns are coming in nicely,” they were, very unlike his father they were curling back over his head in an S shape, the points were sharp.

“Ah, thank you yes... hard too sleep with however,” Jarod laughs, smirking “I can only imagine. How is your mother?” Edan was touched he was asking, “she’s happy- well. Not with father... it seems I have another sibling on the way.” Mother had been throwing up the last four days, Edan heard it from his room and the cursing that followed it.

At the moment mother wasn’t upset with father, dancing by the outskirts of the floor, Jarod cranes his neck, looking over at the two, “is she? Congratulations than, must be nice to have so many siblings.” Jarod loved his sister, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t hard.

“Tadeas pulls at my wings, he’s still little. And crying doesn’t help either.” Jarod chuckles, taking the hand that lay lazily at the demons side. “Dance with me, tell me all.”

Edan spent the better part of the hour babbling on both his parents, his siblings and all that interested him. Jarod listened with an eager ear, pulling his along the floor in a beautiful dance. His parents were lost in their world, foreheads pressed against each other. Jarod smiles, losing their embrace.

Edan blinks his fel smouldering eyes, confused as Jarod tugs him along.

They pass guests and wind down hallways until Jarod sees no guests. It was oddly like cornering a fox, the wild look and the shaky disposition.
The threat of being devoured.

Jarod does anyway, pulling at his hips so he was close, forced too look up at him. “Have you ever been kissed?” A teasing note reaches his tone. The little elf swallows. Wetting his pretty lips, “I- no- I haven’t-“ Jarod angles down, capturing his lips quicker than he can say no. Edan doesn’t say no, doesn’t move away. In fact, he melts a little, arching into the embrace like Jarod was a second skin.

The wings on his back beat timidly, a flutter so light it was like a butterfly. Jarod backs them up, the clatter of his horns thus into the cobble be his them, it forces his head up, into Jarod’s mouth. A soft moan escapes him.

Than all to suddenly, Edan forces his head to the side, a hiss of pain erupting from his chest, the pointed fangs shiny. “Ah-“ his body jolts against Jarod’s for a moment he doesn’t know what to make of it, wondering what had caused him pain, but he sees the prickle of skin forming in odd shapes, a colour seeping through.

“It burns-“ He growls, clawing at his chest. Jarod pulls him to the floor, pulling open his jackets and shirt, the bare skin raises, a fel bloody colour of sickly green swirls along his chest, jagged and burning. Jarod watches in awe as markings, not so unlike Illidan’s own begin to fill out his chest and arms, dipping low on his hips and no doubt passed his legs.


Edan gasps out a pained moan, “Edan?” Jarod calls from far away. Edan blinks, focusing back into the concerned eyes, “Edan are you alright?” And flexes, his muscles are strained. “Yes... yes I think so?” Jarod lets a chuckle pass, relief floods him. “I have never gotten that reaction to a kiss before.”

Edan cranes his neck, looking over himself and the glow of the new markings, “Oh? They mustn’t have been very good than.”

Jarod tanks him up, watching as he fixes his clothes again. “What am I to tell your parents?” Edan makes the most terrified of looks, eyes bulging and jaw slack. “Gods,” he mutters, looking back at himself. “What am I too say?”

“What are you too say?” Jarod has never seen him jolt upright so fast. “F-father!” Illidan looks amused for his part, while his mother is confused. “Little moon?” She calls. Her son was bashful, giving a sheepish smile a he stressed his neck. “I’ve... seem to taken after father-“ Edan pulls his sleeve, making obvious his new markings. Asch gasps, pulling free of Illidan, rushing to her child and pulling him gently.

“Are you hurt? Does it hurt?” Edan shakes his head, tousling his soft hair, “no mother, it didn’t hurt.” A comforting lie, one his mother was happy to hear. “What were you doing?” Illidan asks with a tilt of his head. Jarod is to old too be caught like this. Far too old to be necking at a wedding.

“Edan is old enough for it not too be your concern my love.” Asch is swift to take his arm again, beginning her tugging, “we shall see you later little moon.”


“Yes mother!” Illidan isn’t amused and bites a few whispered words, but Asch only smiles wordlessly, tugging him out of view. Jarod huffs, Edan looks back at him. “Now I believe it is time for me to ask to see you again...”

Chapter Text

Asch was nursing Edan, laying under a pool of thick blankets as Illidan was working nearby.

After last night he seemed better, far happier. Asch was grateful he finally saw it her way. Her heart ached to see her baby in pain, but now he looked just like his father. Edan went back to being a happy baby, cooing and squealing as his mother wiped his mouth and gave him attention.

“Hello!” She says excitedly, “hello hello!” Edan babbles, waving his chubby arms, “can you say hello?” Edan squeaks, “bah!” He shouts, Illidan laughs loudly. Asch just coos, “such a good boy! Mommies good boy!” Edan gets so happy his wings start fluttering.


Edan fists flowers from her hair, pulling them out and marveling at them, Illidan watches in amusement as he puts one in his mouth. Asch laughs, kissing his cheek before plucking it from his lips. “Do you want daddy? Daddy? Do you wanna see daddy?” Edan can’t possibly understand her, but gets excited by her tone of voice. Illidan watches him squirm and squeal, Asch egging him on.

“Daddy! You want daddy!” Asch brings him over, Illidan chuckles throatily, nuzzling his broad pointed nose into Edan’s chin. “Hello little one,” Illidan takes him, letting him balance on his knee. “Whose that?” Asch says, tickling his belly, Edan wiggles, his laughter filing the space, “ada!” He tries to say, fisting the air in front of Illidan, Asch beams.

“Ada! Yes! That’s daddy!” Illidan’s heart clintches, a smile makes its way into his face, “mhm,” he grunts, pulling Edan up to his chest, his baby looks up at him with wonderment and confusion. Big wide eyes gaping at his father, Asch plays with his wings. “He’s being very good,” Illidan praises in a light voice, kissing his fluffed hair.

Asch buries her nose in his back, face hidden between his folded wings, “he is, he’s very good.” Edan still has the new baby smell to him, just like Asch has the scent of a new mother. It was overly intoxicating all at once. Edan smelt like fresh powder and petals while Asch smelt like Illidan and home. It was a lethal combination and Illidan was finding it hard to get work done, especially when all he wanted to do was listen to his baby’s laughter and his mates moans.

“Do you think he’ll be good later today?” Illidan frowns, shrugging. “Must you come? It could be dangerous-“ Asch snorts angrily at him, glaring from over Edan’s tiny shoulder “I am the Archdruid and you are lord of the illidari. I think it will be fine.”


Illidan had to admit it was rather amusing that Edan was against her breast in a wrap made of fluffed blankets. The baby was soundlessly asleep as she lumbered her overly large staff. It thumped harshly against the ground of Agrus.


Illidan watches her, his eyes over his shoulder as he fights off dreadstalkers and imps, while his wife and baby are combating an infernal. Her power was no illusion, Illidan could see that with the way she moved and stuck wraith bolts into the body of the crumbling rock. Druids were fast by their very nature and she was no exception. Quick as lightening he watched her run and slide under its fist. A boom of sound echoes around them as Asch gets to her feet, aiming sideways while cutting the infernal in two with her magic.

Asc arcs her massive staff, swinging it in front of her before slamming it into the dead ground, flowers erupt from her feet and a cool mist of green washes over her. Edan barely shifts as she stalks forward. Illidan finishes another few demons off before flicking his blades, the demon blood splatters across the black ground.

“We’ve finished clearing the campsite.” Khadgar heaves a sigh, lighting the cave with globes of light. It was a massive hole, a hidden gash with a mouth almost too small for Illidan to fit though. It was perfect for a base camp.

Asch extends her hand, willing a beacon to life, connecting the Vindiccar to the new site. As soon as it roars to life Draenei come through with supplies and preparation has already begun.

Khadgar turns, his staff thuds less obnoxiously “we have one more site to clear, its well hidden and across the waste.

As Khadgar said they made their way too the point, clearing the few imps that were hiding inside. This cave was very out of the way, smaller but still as useful. Khadgar hums as more Draenei feed through. “Illidan, Asch!” He calls them. “Which garrison would you wish to over see?” Another reason Illidan did not want Asch coming along.

“I will have this one,” Khadgar wanted them to oversee these points, manage them. Illidan was not happy with this idea, but knew it was necessary for their war on the legion. “I’ll have the other then.” He snaps, the mage isn’t interested in his mood and quickly nods, leaving to his own duties. Whatever those seemed too be.


“Asch,” Illidan says firmly, turning to her completely. Asch raises a brow, rolling her eyes. “Illidan I know what you’re going too say-“ “call me if you need help.” Asch flinches in surprise, “wait you’re-“ Illidan chuckles, shaking his head.

“Despite my displeasure I cannot deny you. Everyone must play a part.” Asch beams, getting up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek “you are a most wonderful husband,” Illidan laughs, than looks thoughtful. “But I am not your husband... shall we change that?”


Malfurion was the first to find out, because out of the three he knew best whether or not Illidan could actually do this. The elder Druid was pensive, saying as much.

“Marrying under the mother moon may be considered sacrilege and Tyrande... may annual it.” Mal appeared very thoughtfully upset, scratching his beard as he watched Edan pull at his mothers hair.

“She wouldn’t?!” Asch was appalled by this, brow crunched together, “so what then? If we cannot marry under the moons light then what can we do?” Illidan stares darkly at the floor, considering.

“We marry under mine.”

Warlocks and demon hunters were very much the same when it came to threads and pins. Finding a ritualist wasn’t hard, having him perform the ceremony was a simple task. Asch stood before Illidan in a dark dress made of silks and satins. Flowers ran down in a train. They were wilted at the ends, she was nervous. It was understandable, Illidan admitting it was more of a blood bond ritual then a marriage ceremony, but it was the only binding contract they could enter with Tyrande on the prowl.

A dagger made of sharp waves and a black hilt stood between them as the warlock uttered demonic words that Illidan translated too her. “I vow to be yours as you are mine.” Aschv licks her lips, “I vow to be yours as you are mine...”


Illidan plucked the dagger, slicing open his hand without a wince, Asch flinches watching the green blood pool out of the creases in his hand. “You do it please!” Asch thrusts her hand and closes her eyes, Illidan quirks a smile, quickly slicing her palm. “Ah!” She yanks her hand, making a fist.

“We must exchange blood.” Illidan lays his hand open, waiting as she places her own atop his. Their palms squelch together in a sick sound and the tinged blood weeps from the pressure. The warlock ties their hands together with twine and holds his own above their joined, uttering words Illidan does not repeat.

The spell creates runes along their skin, they run until they reach each knuckle of their fingers. “It will burn,” Illidan tells her, braving himself for it. It was a warm sizzle, like hot butter in a pan, and felt just as scalding. Asch squirms but tightens her hold so as not to ruin it. Rings form around their fingers, on Illidan’s was red like her blood and on Asch was green, like his.

The warlock pulls the twine away, bowing lightly, “it is done,” he finally says in English, “you have been joined.” Illidan curtly nods, thanking him quickly. Asch pulls his wrist, taking her other hand and healing the damage left by the knife. Illidan looks at the four rings around his finger. They were tattooed to his skin just like the ones upon his chest. They were glowing faintly, life magic flowing through them. It looked a little sickly on Asch, but she touched them with curious wonderment.

“I suppose this ceremony doesn’t involve a kiss does it?” The warlock snorts, rolling his eyes. Illidan smirks, “it can.”

He bends a little, letting her come into his arms for a full kiss. Malfurion claps, coming from his spot on the side, “unconventional, but lovely all the same.” The blood magic clearly had him uncomfortable, it had Asch as well. But she wanted to be married for a long time and Illidan wouldn’t deny her this.

Edan squeaks from his arms, Illidan plucks him, kissing the chubby face, “as I’ve said, I most wonderful husband.”

Chapter Text

Darion hadn't seen a proper woman in, what? Months? Maybe a year? He didn't know.

Icecrown had woman populating it, but they were all undead. It was quite the surprise when Arthas himself requested she stay alive and even more shocking, unharmed. An elf, pink and freezing. Her clothes were that of a noble lady, one from Silvermoon. They were meant for hot weather and light breezes, not at all for Northrend. What on earth was she doing up here? Looking as if she was snatched from a sunroom only an hour passed.

Darion watched, with small amusement and curiosity as she shook, teeth chattering. Breath clouds steamed the air in front of her face, making it just about the only thing warm around her. The pink skin was turning blue as she huddled in the steel cage. Darion huffs lightly, unharmed. His master said. Darion yanked a bear hide off the rack.

The elf was too busy trying to keep warm to notice him, Darion grunts noisily, "here." His voice made her flinch back in utter terror, first she looked at his mask, then the pelt in his fist. She was quick to grab it, Darion backs only a foot away, watching as she curled into a little ball, burying herself in the fur. Darion grunts again, walking off, before leaving he instructed someone to bring another pelt.

It was only two days later when he saw her again, this time in the company of his master. She still had the pelt and had another thrown over her shoulders like he requested. Her lips were still blue, it seemed the pelts did little. Arthas coos, a cruel sounding noise. "Elves are so little," he tells Darion, "they get so cold and are so fragile." Arthas pets the bars with the end of his fingers, the metals scrape together and make an awful sound, one that the little elf detests and attempts to cover her ears.

One thing Darion knew was that their ears were sensitive, to touch and sound. Koltira informed him of this when Darion assigned him to the armoury, where he would be of no use. Apparently it was true. They perked like a dogs, the tips were beat red from the cold and she even gave a small, destressed noise when Arthas did it again.

"What are you keeping her for?" Darion wasn't trying to sound rude or demanding, Arthas eyes him, debating whether to answer. He didn't have too, he could leave his plans all to himself, but instead he does speak. "I need an heir, such as all kings do." Darion looks back at the girl, crystal tears freeze on her cheeks. It actually stirs pity in his belly.


Out of the little he knew, elves were beautiful creatures, Koltira was proof of that, even as a man and dead Darion could see the beauty in his race. Their women however were a thing to behold. Koltira said not one was unsightly, they were all incredibly capturing, the one in the cage was no different. Gorgeous despite being frozen and practically naked. She was regal, Koltira said that was a natural state for his people. Darion believed him, the elf was so pompous.

Darion quickly realized that the people he thought the Lich King had was actually him. So instead of servants, he had Darion. Today he didn't see the elf, her cage was there in full view of everything but she wasn't in it and her pelts were hobbled in bunches on the floor.

Arthas must have gotten bored of her, or realized he didn't want a half elven child. Darion didn't dwell on it for long, he had reports to get from the office so he didn't stay long.

Darion had keys to the Kings apartments,
The office was between the den and bedchamers, in the middle of the rooms. the den was empty and the office was a mess, as usual. He was about to leave until he heard a faint mewl. Darion arched a brow and unlocked the bedchambers, interested in what found itself there.

To say he was shocked was an understatement. Arthas had actually kept her. Not only that, made good on his promise to use her as a broodmare. On the lavishly large bed, laid the elf, her hands were shackled taught to the bed frame and her knees were pressed together. Though it didn't help hide anything. An oozing puddled had formed around her raw pink cunt, tinged with blood. Darion stepped lightly though the door, moving toward the bed and the crying elf.

In one swift motion he carted the sheets over her body, scaring her into flinching harshly. Those wide, green eyes stare at him in shock and horror. Darion left without a word.

The next he saw of his master, he was in a good mood, so Darion asked, "why an elf, master? I thought you didn't like them." Arthas seemed to be in good enough humour to actually answer him. "Whatever is born inside of her, it will be living. Elves live a long time. If I used a human it would die at mere age fifty." Elves lived for centuries. "But can't you give it undeath?" Darion was immortal now, he wouldn't age or decay and he was human was well.

"Not when it's already dead," Darion was confused with his statement until he realized that the child when born would be both alive and dead. Arthas couldn't raise something that was already dead, and yet. Alive. Darion didn't ask anymore questions, figuring it would either annoy his master or he would only become more confused. In the days that followed Darion noticed his jobs were delegated toward the elf.

The worst part of it was coming in after Arthas finished with her. Maybe it was because Arthas was a sick man, or he wanted to dangle the naked girl in front of him, but every time Darion would hear or see the poor girl, she was naked and covered in leavings. She wouldn't look at him, but she knew he was there. Darion covered her with a blanket every time.

It was one of the only things that brought him close to her.


The worst thing happened when he was only grabbing reports and he heard a crash, bang and gasp. Darion went to the sound with vigour, surprised to see the elf, knees knocking and barely able to hold herself up without the help of the furniture. "Stop," he found himself hurriedly muttering, holding his arms out to reach her. The elf gasps and falls, Darion catches her by the waist, pulling her before she bashed her knees into the hard stone.

"I'm... I'm sorry!" Darion didn't realize she spoke common. It sounds nice on her tongue. "What are you doing?" The elf shivers, her naked body pressed into his cold armour, Darion's mouth flattens, "I... I just wanted a-another blanket." Darion grunts, glaring "fine." He realizes that helping her would only make her colder, but Darion picks her up, watching as her face turns. He quickly deposits her on the bed, finding the closet of blankets before dropping the neatly folded heavy pelt by her knees.

"T-thank you so much," she looks genuine about it, Darion grunts again, waving it off. Maybe he should find her clothes...


It turns out Arthas is delighted in his idea.


Darion wasn't at all impressed by what Arthas had put her in. It was worse then the cloth she came in. The poor elf was shivering at the foot of his throne, like a pet. Her skin was ashen and her lips and fingers were blue. There was a moment of silence before the Lich King gestured him forward and everyone else out. "I have been told you are being kind to my pet?" Darion swallows hard, nodding once in shame.

However, the King smiled under his helm, the shine of his teeth glinting in the icy light. "What do you think of her, Darion?" The sound of his name made Darion shrivel a little, but persist. "I think nothing, she is your pet-" "ah-ah," he tuts, "don't be boring Highlord, tell me."

Darion straightens, biting his bottom lip, deciding whether to lie or not. It would do him no good if Arthas found out, but the truth would either amuse or anger him. Darion swallows again, nervous. "She is... beautiful, like all elves." Arthas grins sharply, "but do you find her beautiful?"

"Yes...?" Terrified.

"Good." Intrigued.

"Why...?" Again, he was terrified, Arthas only grins, "pregnant women get in the way, someone needs to look after her. You've been doing just that, so take her and keep her. Once my heir is born you can do as you like."


Darion didn’t sleep much, but the girl slept for hours. He let her have his bed, watching the colour come back to her whole body. Darion kept it warm, making sure the fire was on at all times and giving her as many furs as she delighted in using. She started throwing up after a few days under his care, it was morning sickness he knew. She knew.

Worst of all, Arthas knew.


At first it was unnoticeable, the girl had gained better control of herself, now warm and not knocking at the knees, she would rush to his bathroom, covering her mouth. Darion was no longer alarmed by the suddenness of it and merely glances at her darting figure before he heard the harsh heaving. The wretched sound was sometimes accompanied by sobbing, something he found hard to ignore, but did.

Sometimes she would take a long time before leaving, but when she did it was a pitiful sight.

When the throwing up had stopped he could not remember, but he knew when she begun showing. The day was warming, snow melted in dribbles, all except ice crown was softening because of the overly warm sun. No sun reached here, it was solid as stone.

Darion had come back from his work and made the mistake of looking at her. The elf was stretched out, reaching for an old dusty tomb. That was when he saw the bump of her belly. The spawn of the Lich King. It looked like a half moon, a natural healthy looking protrusion. And yet. It was not.


Koltira had said at the beginning of all this that it was rare and intoxicating to see a pregnant elf, a reason he stayed far away. Bloodelves lived too long to care for children and reproduction like humans, so when one of his peoples women begin showing it was considered very beautiful.

Even Darion, a human, could feel the effects of it. His mortal instincts wished him to protect her, feed her. Touch her.

He quickly cast the idea from his head. She was not his to touch, nor would he if allowed. Some morality stuck deep within him and it felt wrong to force himself upon her. Still, his feelings festered. He wanted so badly to run his hand over the soft skin, feel the life inside, even though it wasn’t apart of him.

Darion still felt responsible.


Now it was altogether hard to ignore.

His work became second and he rather stare at the elf, siting lonely on his bed, furs and blankets pooled around her and the belly that would not be ignored. She could not see he was looking thanks to his helm, but it felt dirty, like he was peeping from outside a window.

She sighs delicately, putting her hands on the sides of her belly, rubbing it with a wounded expression. Darion bites his lip, inquiring before he could stop himself.

“What’s wrong?” That sounded very angry and rough, the elf flinches “it's- it’s nothing my lord!” Her eyes shoot downward, as if she wasn’t too look upon a king, but Darion was no king. “It is,” he dismisses, turning in his wooden chair. It makes a screech in protest, “What is it?” Swallowing she hikes her shoulders, scared. “Kicking my lord... just kicking.”


Darion swallows a thick lump, “Let me feel,” once more he cannot stop himself from advancing, the elf doesn’t know what to do and stays frozen until he reaches her. “Here...” she mutters, reaching for his wrist. Darion removes his gauntlet, letting it drop by her leg before he lets her take his hand.

Slowly she places it against the left side of her belly, holding is flush to her skin. Darion waits with a furrowed brow before he feels the sudden lurch. The elf moans a little in pain, the kicking as steady as a drum beat.

“Not just kicking then,” he surmises, awkwardly petting the flesh. Remarkably the kicks slow and begin to press against the motion. The elf sighs in relief, slumping against the headboard. “Thank you my lord.”


Darion removes his hand, in awe of what he just did, “I did nothing...” he trails off, realizing he didn’t know her name. “What do I call you?” There was a timid smile, “Asch, my lord.”


“Than you may call me Darion.”


“How is the elf?” Arthas was becoming more and more unbearable about the updates Darion was to give, wanting to know the comings and goings of his breeding stock and everything she did.

Darion answers simply, with a shrug “she sleeps and reads. Eating what she craves.” Arthas has a sick smile about him, “and you see to these... cravings?” The implication has him reeling silently, outwardly he shows nothing.

“Yes my lord?” Arthas’ head tilts in the manner quite inhuman-like before he responds, “all of them?”


Darion is baffled.


“What... what do you mean?” Arthas has his grin again, the icy teeth exposed and frothing with fog, “I’ve told you too see to her needs. All of her needs. I mean what I mean, Highlord.” Darion doesn’t know what to say, but manages something anyway, “you can’t mean... she is not mine to do such with, I never supposed I could-“ his king tuts, pretending disappointment.


“You have grown fond of her- ah ah hush. I know you have. My heir grows inside her womb, I do not care what you do with her. Once her purpose is fulfilled you may keep her, as I’ve said.” Arthas grins at the utter silence from Darion, “warm your cock, Highlord.”


Those words slithered in his brain as he walked away, a feeling of dead weight dragging behind him with each step. Permission granted. Permission earned. Darion wondered what she was doing now, was she asleep? Was she reading? Darion hurried to his quarters.

Upon his bed she sat, rubbing the inflated flesh. Asch looks to him with relief. At some point she became very comfortable with him, asking for things he would not deny. Like quieting the raging kicks she felt. Darion went without question, let her move his bare hand in place and pets the spot until they once again slowed and came to a stop. “Thank you Darion,” it took a long time for her to use his name, but now he never wanted to hear anything else.

Usually Darion would remove himself, but this time he refused, Asch eyes him in question and he speaks, only a little nervous.


“You have all you crave?” It came out as a fair question, no dirty interest in his voice. Asch blinks at him, face warming and shining. “Yes...” she tell him indefinitely, looking rather content. Darion raises a brow she cannot see “Truly? Or is there something else you desire?” This time he makes no secret of his meaning, letting his wondering hand touch lower on her belly.

Confusion overtakes the pretty face before the sudden shock of realizing, along with the most beautiful flush. Darion now wishes to lick it off. “D-Darion I... I have all I desire!” Her voice is breathy, Darion knows the sound of a breathless woman well and grins,
“yes you have your books and blankets,” he teases, watching her colour anew.

“But you also have me,” the statement makes her flinch, a baffled look upon her face, Darion looks down to where his hand is idly petting, “you... you won’t hurt me?” The emotion in her voice is enough too pain him. Darion shakes his head adamantly, “not- not even if I... I say no?” Few tales were told along with what Darion saw. He heard the whispers from other deathknights, how she screamed and wailed. Begged for an end. Arthas was cruel beyond measure and probably enjoyed her shrieks of desperation.

“Especially if you say no,” he promises, growing fidgety. Relief flooded her face, a weight gone from her, “may... may I remove this?” A soft hand toys with his helm, touching the freezing steel. Darion watches a shiver overtake her, “I will,” he says before long. Darion regretfully moves his hand, but pulls the frozen metal from his face, revealing his long forgotten features.

Darion was by no means unsightly, in fact he was quite handsome. Of course his skin was overly pale and his eyes were like glowing ice, but he was handsome. Darion kept his hair as it used to be, chin length and feathery, but it was a pale white, much like the Lich King’s own. But where his was thin and straw like, Darion’s was soft and full. Keeping the body it once had when blonde.

Darion was given undeath at the young age of nineteen, he had fully grown but not quite. His height was never reached, but he was still fair sized, but he was still stuck between young man and adult. His beard would never grow but he looked too young without stubble, he would never be big or bulky, but not thin or lanky like some boys his age.

The woman before him must thought of him as a pup, it never occurred to him just how old she was, elves lived for a long time, much longer then he ever would have as a man.

“B-be nice!” She squeaks suddenly, “my hips hurt.” Darion snorts at the overly cute words, but is delighted all the same. “I will be nice,” His voice makes the words echo, closing the space between them. For now the swollen bump does not hinder his seeking lips and Darion presses a fine kiss upon her, exciting her interests further. How he was to go about it... well. That was another matter entirely. Hardly in his life did he have time for sex, now in undeath he could not stomach it with any woman not living. Until the elf came, there were none living.

Asch weeds her hands through his soft hair, fingering his skull as he invaded her mouth with his seeking tongue. The action itself was a bit clumsy, being Darion had only done it once and wasn’t in control.

A mere four years before when he was still young, coming into his body like all boys, he met a stable girl, like all boys do. She giggled and pulled him into the hay, the cover of night their only hope of not being caught. She opened his mouth with her tongue, more eager then he was. It was the first and since the last he had ever touched a woman. Darion remembers the panic he felt when he saw blood seep around their joining, she promised it was natural but he didn’t believe her. Darion came too fast and got into heaps of trouble when the girls father found out. His father had too found out and Darion got nothing short of a flogging from his father. Darion never again touched a girl or woman.


Until now he mused, licking at her tongue. Soft subtle moans make it through her occupied mouth, Darion was wearing more then simple linens and starts to go about removing the armour. Piece by piece he drops them onto the floor, keeping her mouth to his only parting when absolutely necessary. All that was left was the small leathers hiding his lower half.

Asch had raised skin, a light shiver ran down her spine, but she arched into his body the best her belly would allow. Darion knew his flesh would be icy, but she seemed to take too it better then she did other chilly things.

“I have... regretfully never dealt with something like this,” Darion says as it begins to become heated, there was no sense in pretending mastery where there was none. Darion did not wish too look like the fool he was in the barn with that stable girl. “Nor have I,” she mutters equally, “neither of us has.. had to deal with such things...” whether intentionally or not Asch just reviled she had no lover before the king and has never once carried a child before. Although, that was obvious by how little she knew to expect.

Darion casts the doubt from his mind and swallows, “I will do what I know...” Darion knew to use his fingers, the girl had told him too. He was slightly disturbed by the wet heavy slick on his fingers then, but now it was a welcoming relief.

Laying on her back didn’t hurt, so Darion helps her into the furs. Darion always liked her hair, it was long and naturally silver, it lay spiralled around her pillows. The soft colour reaches between her legs, a tuft of pubic hair hiding her rosy cunt. Darion ducks between her legs, curious. His fingers found wetness where they roamed, his eyes found soft lips and a clintching entrance. She gasps out a noise of pleasure, arching her back. That was surely painful for her, the weight now leveraged on her belly.

His father always told him that where men carry weight in their shoulders women carry it in their hips. Both held different purposes, sword and shield barring. Carrying life. One was certainly lesser to the other.

Darion eases his finger inside, feeling the contrast of their heats, where Darion had none Asch had it all. Her soft insides were wet and warm, soft and tight despite being abused by his master. “O-oh...” her head digs into the pillows and a gush of hot fluid weighs in his palm. It took a moment of sheer confusion to understand what had happened. Darion had never made a woman come, but he knew it couldn’t have been that easy.

“Sensitive,” he concludes with a stroke of ego. Besides pregnancy she was an elf, and elves were very easy to arouse. Koltira has told him this.

“Bedding girls was my favourite pass time,” he told him once, “the girls get so horny, it’s easy to make them come.” A smug air was always about him when he spoke of conquests, “their favourite thing is cock.” Now, that had to be a lie. Blood elves were many things, but not so superficial as that. Darion knew because Koltira had at least some substance.

However, it may have had some truth at least. The fine sheen of sweat coated her body as she heaves, coming down from her peak. Darion dares to lick his fingers and Asch cannot watch him do it. The taste was amazing to his tongue, Darion could not decide what it was, but eagerly laved it from his digits.

Carefully Darion drapes over her, the low light making the lichfire of his eyes stain the air with a gentle glow. Her sickly green eyes bore into his, unafraid. The bump protests between them, Darion eases away, looking, deciding.

“What is most comfortable?” He asks rather than guess, Asch has a frown of thought, wondering herself how this would go. “Um,” she starts, “I have heard it’s easier if I was... on my knees- with a pillow under me.” Darion toys with the idea, trying to imagine it at work.


Darion first manhandles her into position, helping her onto her knees and holding the weight of her pregnancy, then he produces a pillow, slotting it beneath her. Asch wiggles, laying down, content with the support of the pillow and waits for what he had decided. Darion slots between her legs, “yes?” The realization crosses her, Asch nods eagerly, “yes!”


Darion was out of his element, but he’d damn himself if he claimed to not like it. Carefully, pulls free of his leathers and holds his cock in hand, setting it against her folds. Asch keens at the feeling, pushing back into him. Darion grins lightly, letting the head of his cock slide inside. Asch sighs openly, clutching the bed sheets. It had been a painfully long time since he’s felt such pleasure, it was biting at his skin. Darion wanted to force himself deeper and never leave her warmth. Darion knew how bad of an idea that was and instead sated himself by slowing entering to the hilt, relishing every second.


Flexing his hips, Darion set about a pace, pleasing to him and very satisfying to her. If the writhing and gasps were anything to tell by. Darion cants his hips, his balls clintching tightly, slapping against her flesh. Sweat beads down his neck, it has been a long time.

“I... I won’t-“ he grunts, purring out rumbles like a pleased cat. Asch moans, nodding frantically, barring into him like she was giving permission. Darion lurched at the chance, falling over and spilling inside with a exhale of pure frost. Darion keeps forcing his hips against her ass, letting his cock be milked. “Gods...” he grunts, finally pulling off.

It had been a long time since he’d ever laid down and rested.

Through his panting he manages a weak, “good?” Asch rolls to her side, then onto her back, “good,” Darion grins, stretching out like a cat.

 

Chapter Text

The fall was shocking to everyone, the release of control, the sudden feeling of breathing free air.

The ebon blade, it was a whirlwind of happening. Darion served as their leader, their Highlord.

In the experience Darion was carted away to the makers of the Horde and Alliance, both fighting to over throw the Lich King, just as he now wanted.

In all of the excitement, all of the fighting. Asch was left in the citadel.

Darion raised half of hell about it, demanding they go find her.

“We can not waste resorces on one elf!” Varian Wrynn bleats, a fowl expression. Darion snarls, “one elf?! She carries life!” This had Darion even quieting. That. That was a mistake. Darion feels sick regret well up. “She is with child?” Thrall asks, shocked and concerned. Both faction members were welcomed in neutrality here in the ebon hold.

“Yes...” Darion forces out, fists clintching, Varian’s face only becomes more fowl. “Whose life?” Darion could not answer this, and by that fact, they knew that he knew who the child’s father was.

“Who damn you?!” The human king bellows, worry in his eyes. Darion had a choice, dare he make the wrong one. “Arthas...” his breath is frothy and full of snow, “it’s Arthas’”

There was an uproar. Some called for her head, some called to kill the child. Some said leave her to the fate of ice crown. The leaders however were the most terrible. “If that child is born to Arthas this will all be for naught, another king will take his place.” Varian snaps. Thrall rumbles, an uncomfortable noise that was full of gravel “it’s a child. There is not evil in a-“ “there is when it is the spawn of the Lich King!” Varian protests greatly, furious.

“Gentlemen!” Tirion Fordring became the voice to silence all others. The echo resounds ascross the walls, making an imposing figure of its maker. “I will not have a child slaughter because of its sire- Highlord Mograine... Darion.” The boom of his voice becomes soft when adressing him.

“You know this woman?” Darion closes his eyes. He did not just know her.

“I love her.” Tirion heard all he needed. “You will find her.”

 

There she was, on her knees before a grand crib. A sheen silk cloth came down from the ceiling as if it were a royal babies crib. It was in some part. Darion stops short of the entrance, staring and the blood coating her dress, the way it dragged like paint across the wet floor. Asch sobs, bringing him to action.

Darion rushes forward with a crash of his sword, leaving it on the floor. Asch cowers, head ducking away, “Asch!” The familiar sound of his voice rouses her, greenish blue tainted eyes looking at him, “don’t hurt him!” Darion arches away, panting. A boy.

“Please!” She screams, looking passed him. Darion swiftly turns, “out!” He commands the advancing knights. They stumble and stop, but don’t move to leave, “get out!” The first in the group to move is Koltira, pushing back with him the rest.

His bark awoke the baby, a shrill cry comes from my the crib, Asch curses low, getting up from the floor. Darion watched helplessly as she pulls the child out, bringing the evil spawn to her chest. Arthas’ son looked more elven than man, the ears pointed and flopped lazily, long and tall, standing proud. They framed his face, the sickly pale blue hue of his eyes made Darion swallow bile.

Worst of it was the tawny blonde hair upon his head. “Shh,” Asch coos, kissing his head despite what it was. Darion had to remind himself that she was his mother, that it was only a child and could do no evils.

Not yet anyway.


Darion also remembers why he came, quickly shaking his head, “I’ve come to rescue you- we’ve not much time now.” A bewildered expression crosses her face, “recuse me? Surely you jest? They’d have me dead!” That was true, but Darion didn’t want that. “Please, I speak truth, come with me- Iydallus awaits us.” She curls away from him, holding the baby closer, “all of us?”

Darion feels a ping in his chest, but answers instantly, “yes!”


Iydallus was bucking his head, impatient as always. Darion ushers her quickly to his mount and vaults atop his back, quickly pulling Asch in front of him. He did not need to command his mount to do anything, it rode hard as soon as its master had the reins. Iydallus rode until he came to the wards of Dalaran, the purple crystals were guarded by many mages, Darion passed through without issue.
“Why are we here?” Darion dismounts, helping her off Iydallus, “Dalaran is safer then ebon hold.” Safer then any place now.

A dark look crosses her face, “come, I have a room here.” They had been out of sync since he left, months tore them asunder. It was like they were strangers.

“What happened Asch?” There was pain in her eyes. She hid her face behind the baby, looking at the floor. “When you left he-“ She exhales as if she was out of breath, expelling nothing. “I was alone. I... I gave birth alone- Arthas did something to him.”

Darion closes the gap, sitting right next to her on the bed, “does... does he have a name?”

“Muradin.” That was hard to hear. Darion shuts his eyes. Just breathing. “Arthas told me to name him this... I didn’t see him after- the adventurers..?” Darion nods quickly, “killed him yes.” A small comfort unfortunately.

“Will his name stay?” Arthas was dead and the child would not remember having the name, neither would his mother nor Darion. Asch thins her lips, looking now at the sleeping face. “Yes. It will stay.” Silence passed them, “few know his real father.” Tirion, Thrall, Varian and a council of deathknights.

Darion suddenly drops to the floor with purpose, “Muradin is a find name for him,” he says with a steeled voice, “Menethil is not.” He quickly swallows, using the last of his courage, “but Mograine...”

“You would- Darion...” Asch face is sunken, wrought with emotion, “I was there, I watched him grow within you, why shouldn’t I be his father?” Darion didn’t understand why he needed this so much. Was it because his family was torn apart? Was he clinging to the idea he could have happiness. Deathknights suffer, it was what he knew.

But Darion could learn more. He was always good at that.

“You can’t want this!” She denies, shaking her head, “all I’ve ever brought you is trouble- this is not your burden to bare Darion! I thank you for being so kind but I cannot ask this if you!” Darion feels blackness seeping in his veins, dread filling his stomach.

“You haven’t asked me, I am asking you,” he urges, hands clutching her knees, almost as though he was begging now, he says, “I love you! This child is mine! I was not there for his birth but I will be there for his life- please!” He stresses, feeling no shame at his own desperate tone, “please let me!” Asch began to cry before he could do anything about it, “please I love you...” he was terrified, he never thought he could lose anything anymore.


“Darion- I... I love you so much!” The wind escapes him, a happy wet laugh falls from his mouth, for the first time in years Darion had a family.

Muradin, once Darion could look at him clearly didn’t look much like his real father. The elven blood had made him more like his mother, Asch says he looks just like her brother, but Darion had never met him. She said he wouldn’t because he was in Silvermoon flying the Horde banner. His purpose would never find him in Dalaran or near his sister.

Honestly, besides the little who knew the truth, Muradin could easily pass for Darion’s son, the blonde hair was a giveaway to his own. The ears were his mothers, the face could be his own and the eyes were the product of death creating life. He may look like Arthas before his fall, but Darion wasn’t worried about that.


For now his worries cantered around actually looking after him. Darion died at nineteen, he has no knowledge of looking after young. Women did this, his father had little to do with his very own upbringing, but Darion did not wish to be abesent while Muradin grew up.

Asch didn’t have much of an idea how to look after him either, aside from understanding when to feed him she didn’t have much of a clue. Darion was told nursing young was something all women would be good at, but he didn’t believe it was so flat lined as this.

The first red flag was where he was to grow, but Darion couldn’t provide much else besides Acherus, at first he didn’t deem it safe, but where else was the commander and Highlord to go? Asch had promised him it was fine so they made do.

There was a total of three deathknights who knew what Muradin really was, who his father was and Darion held a meeting for just this purpose. Koltira Deathweaver, Thassarian and Thalanor. Tirion had sworn both faction leaders to secrecy, but now it was his duty to silence his knights.


“I assume you know the matter at hand?” A collective look and errie silence is his answer. Darion raises a brow but lets it go, “good then this will be painless. The elf in this keep is under your protection. The child...” he trails off, staring at the table before him.

“Is my son. Do you understand?” Koltira was the only one to nods in agreement.

“But he is not.” Says Thassarian, Darion bores into him, lichfire eyes staring into the others. “Yes. He is. You will never say those words again. If you do... I will correct the mistake of your resurrection- Thalanor?” The did not nod either.

“Why?” The elf questions, “why are you allowing the Lich kings son life? One day he will learn of his true purpose, your kindness and soft heart will be nothing more then it is; foolish!” Darion decides to consider the question fairly before answering with an equally chilling voice.

“Because I have decided he is mine. And if the day should come that he learns of his true sire... I will know who to cut down.” Thalanor flinches, face pinched. A faint but still submissive, “yes highlord,” is uttered. Then the two other voices follow. Koltira was the loudest, having agreed to the terms long before this meeting arrived.

Singing had never been heard in the halls of Acherus before, but as Darion walked he heard the stuble hum of a melody.


“-without you I feel broken like I’m half of a whole, without you I’ve got no hand to hold, without you I feel torn like a sail in a storm, without you I’m just sad song.” The melody was sad, but she sung it lovingly

Elves voices were beautiful, whimsical and Darion was upset to ruin the song. Asch pauses, looking as he opened the door to their room, Muradin was asleep in the furs, twitching his little legs as he dreamt.

“Hello my love,” Darion whispers, kissing her forehead, Asch smiles warmly, “Hello darling. How did the meeting go?” Darion carefully sits, pulling his gauntlet free of his wrist before touching the soft tuffs of hair, “they will not tell unless they wish for death.”

Chapter Text

Ages saw kings fall and dragons killed, thunder gods dethroned and a mad Orc put to rest.

But one thing that was constant was the life Darion lead now. Muradin has grown into a fine young man, one almost as old as Darion was before he died. Seventeen. An age where a boy should be finding girls to bother and fights to win. Muradin was however not average boy.

Much to Darion’s fear he grew to look just as Arthas had, but almost all had forgotten about the fallen king and his son.


“Father!” Darion came to love that name, the Highlord turned, a smile present on his face. His sons ears flopped as he ran up, “mother needs you- she wouldn’t say why.” A small frown of curiosity, “well. I suppose I should see what she wants. Back to your studies Muradin.” A grin erupts on his handsome face. Darion swallows, too much like Arthas.

“I’ve finished! May I got practice with Thalanor?” Darion rolls his eyes, but in a pleasant way. “Yes son, go on.” A thank you father is throw over the excited teen shoulders as he rushed to find the death knight.

Just like his father, he wished to be a paladin, a knight of the sliver hand. Darion appreciated how much his son looked up to him, but always worried.

Darion found Asch looking over the frozen land below her, smiling and humming a tune. “Aren’t you cold?” He shouts over, watching her flinch is surprise. The wind whips her hair as she turns, a giggle coming for her pretty lips, “no,” she teases, a brow raised, “I’ve married an ice block a little wind is nothing.” Darion laughs despite her little jab, finding himself closing his arms around her middle, looking over her shoulder at the wasteland.

“So than, our son said you wished to speak too me?” Asch hums pleasantly, rubbing his arms with her naked hands, catching on the metal. “I did, I have an something to ask of you!” That usually was never good, “Oh?” He says, squeezing her in his arms.

Asch turns in his embrace, shyly glancing at anything but his face, “I was... I wanted-“ she bites her lip, very nervous. Then she says in the smallest voice, “I want another... baby,” her face scrunched as if she was about to be hit with something. Darion gulps, where normal humans would have lost what she said, Darion did not.


“You do?” Apparently this surprised her and she stiffened in his arms, “um- I... yes!” She’s shaking, “please?!” Darion adores the hope on her face, in her words.

Another baby?

Darion licks his lips, a slow smile spreading along his cheeks, “absolutely my love.” Her face lit up and Asch jumps in his embrace, squealing, “Thank you!” Darion spins her, laughing deeply, “of course, I only wish I could start right now,” a sturly note in his tone and he palms more then he should, “but,” he purrs, watching her reaction.

“I have a few duties to attend, I won’t be long,” Asch pouts, not letting go of her hold on his neck, “can’t you stay with me a moment?” Darion smirks, “I suppose I could-“ she yelps as he picks her up, making his way to the railing before carefully setting her down and slotting between her dangling legs.

“What’s made you want a baby darling?” Darion pulls his helmet off, dropping it to his feet. Asch plays with his hair, ruffling it free of tangles it usually gets by being in his armour. “I saw ours grow up,” there’s pain in her voice, “soon he will be fighting in wars with his father, both my boys will be gone!” Darion kisses her cheek as she speaks, nuzzling. “I wish to hold him again, my baby has gotten to big for his mothers love.”

Darion carefully smiles, “no no, too embarrassed for it,” he laughs at her scowl, “I miss when he was a little boy, he never left my side.” Yes, Darion remembers his timid little boy, clinging to his mothers skirts staring up at his father, the eyes of Arthas seeking approval and assurance.

Darion would bend down and tell his son; it’s alright and then, it would be. Now Muradin has grown and no longer looks to his father for safety and answers. He old enoug now to seek what he wishes out.

“Muradin loves you Asch, that will never change.” Asch frowns, “but he has... he’s just like...” she doesn’t dare speak his name, too afraid, “he’s very ambitious, he wants things quicker than they can come... I worry about that.” Despite Darion’s influence it seemed his son was far more like his true sire then Darion. That always annoyed him, making him see the difference in them. Muradin was his son, nothing would alter that.

But... Darion saw so much of Arthas in him. The hair, his eyes and how big he’s gotten. Muradin would be far larger than Darion, Arthas was. Taller and broader. Those who knew saw it, Koltira would look between them and become pinched, strange. Muradin could see none of it, Darion was his beloved father, the man he wished too be.

Darion only hopes it will stay that way.


Secrets were not meant to be kept, the greatest ones were always the hardest to hide, one day Darion would see his son learn the truth and the Highlord only hoped he would not be changed by it, or realize the fate Arthas had wished for him.

For now Darion casts it out of his mind, “have you decide upon any names then?” A thoughtful look crosses her beautiful features, “no! It’s your turn, I named our first!” Darion blinks, stumped, “Oh.” Is all he can say.

Asch giggles, cupping his face, “you'll come up with something grand I’m sure!”


Muradin has always felt odd. An oddness he has tried to snuff out with the teachings of the light, but his mistake was thinking that it would go, rather it grew with each swing of his sword or lesson he learned. A growling pit of pure strange.

Like he wasn’t full, like nothing he did was ever finished. Even growing felt incomplete. Like his words held no meaning and his magic was weaker then most. Muradin could never truly tell. No paladin would ever come here, so he learnt from ones who used to be. The more he mastered the more the knights were repulsed, however that was a good sign.

Muradin wondered what it would be like to wield the shadows and unholy strengths like his father does, his father absolutely forbid it, would not hear of it. Muradin knee what he was, the product of a very unholy union. A death knight and an elf, one living and another dead. He could use the powers of dread and shadow, it as in his blood.


But it made his father upset, so he dared not defy him in such a way.

Muradin saw his parents, he only came to see if father had found mother, but he stayed to watch them embrace, the happiness in her face and how father twirled her and laugh. Muradin leans against the wall, watching his father place her atop the railing, squinting too see her whisper and blink when his father drops his helm.


Muradin always hated what those around him said about him, about his mother and father. He was called the unliving child. The cross of death and life. His parents were considered fowl and unusual, but what he saw as nothing short of normal.

Some mocked him for become as old as his father appeared, how he would grow older still as his father stayed younger. It mattered little, his father would never age or die from it. Mother neither, or so was told too him.

The grandest story was told to him at the ripe age of sixteen. Darion Mograine had fallen in love with a living servent of the Lich King, bore her a child and rescued her before the scrouage lord ever knew. He and twenty five of the greatest champions the Horde and Alliance had to offer cut the Lich King down and ended his terrible rein.

Muradin grew up watching the deeds of men and dwarf, troll and orc alike. He heard of a dragon, one of the last great and mighty dragons was killed in a maelstrom, a Thunderking rained out and a mad warchief murdered by many. His mother had no dealing in any of the affairs, nor did his father. The two had no cause to rush to the worlds aid, for they had more pressing things. Muradin could not think of what they were, would ask each time a threat loomed if it was time too see it done.

Each time his parents would smile and say the damned had no need to metal in the words of mortals. The others under his fathers rule said much the same, it was none of their business if kings and warchiefs died, all that mattered was the legion. Muradin was told of the legion, the fury and hate it spewed.

Mother said they burnt her home to the ground Lon before he was even a notion in her head. Father said it was what caused the Lich King to go mad and make an army.

It was the whole reason for all these undead knights to be resurrected.


Muradin stalks off, leaving his parents to laugh amoug themselves, feeling empty.

That night he lay in bed, the wind bellowing through his curtains, a whisper almost like words calling too him. Muradin frowns, twitching, straining too hear it.

My heir...” he heard it sing through the winds, “my blood...!” Muradin bolts up, looking frantically around his room. Nothing but shadows awaited his terrified gaze.

My son!” Muradin darted from bed.

His feet smacked the ground loudly, annoying some of the knights he passed, but he would not stop even as they yelled after him. Muradin skids to a stop, sliding a little passed a heavy closed door, hurting the soft pads of his feet. Muradin shoves the door open, falling on his knees.

“Muradin?!” His father’s voice rings out a long echo, swiftly shooting up from under his mother, taking her to the bed so he could not see. “What is going on-“ “I heard voices!” Muradin was too frightened to care he walked in on his parents.

Mother was flushed, panting and looking rather cross with her only son, annoyed as she should be, but worried all the same. “Voices?” His father asks, a deep frown.

“Yes! It- I heard... it said my heir!” He shouts, “m-my blood and... and my son!” A horrible look of fear overtakes his father. A sick looks haunts his mother.

An awful pause, a snap of his fathers jaw.

“Come here Muradin.” Muradin bolts like a frightened child, climbing his parents bed just as he did when he was a toddler. Muradin completely ignores he state of it, the rumpled sheets and the frothy smell. How is father tightly stuffs the sheets around his waist, chest naked and covered in sweat.

“I’m going to tell you a story,” his father hesitates, looking at his mother before speaking again, “one that is painful but must be understood. Will you understand Muradin?” Frantically he nods.

Darion exhales, closing his eyes. “We lied, about your creation and how your mother and I came to be. Necessary lies, but lies the same.” Muradin swallows, clinching the sheets in his fist.

“You were not given to your mother by me. You’re father is the Lich King. Is Arthas. Your mother was taken from her home, caged and abused by the Lich King. Forced to produce and heir to continue his line.” His fathers voice becomes shakily and stunted. “I was charged with looking after your mother while she was pregnant with you. It was truthful when I told you we did find love, but it wasn’t I who helped your creation.”

Muradin feels hallow, sick to his stomach. His birth father wasn’t his father.

It was Arthas. The greatest evil known yet.

“But he is your father, Muradin-“ his mother stresses woundedly, “you know this don’t you?” Muradin nods quickly, tears bubbling in his eyes, “something was done to you the day you came into the world. Something your mother didn’t understand. Few know of your real father, but one may help with these whispers...” father flares at nothing, angry at everything.

“You’re my real father,” Muradin mutters, rivets of tears fall, dotting the grey sheets below him, “you are!” Muradin feels wretched, “b-but why?!” He croaks, “why did you lie?!” Muradin sees his mother begin to cry, something that makes him more upset, “to protect you,” His father says, “from all the people who wished to hurt you-“ “you were my baby!” His mother interrupts wetly, “I loved you the moment I saw you and I knew anyone who knew would try to take you from me- your father... your father- he wanted to protect us, give you a life to live. Something more than the son of the Lich King.”

Muradin feels weak, a quiver runs down his spine, “we didn’t mean too hurt you my love,” His mother promises, “we didn’t want you to be burdened with the horrible truth.” Muradin wipes his eyes, something shifts inside him. Determination wells up.

“No... no this is the truth- the story you told me is the only truth, that you are my mother and you are my father!” He inhales, feeling better than moments ago, “who will help these whispers? Who will make them stop?” Even now he can hear them faintly, desperately. Clawing at the back of his mind like a disease. His father runs a hand over his face, pulling sweat of his brow.

“The banshee queen of Undercity.”

Chapter Text

Ares smirks, his horse trots behind the commander, who yaps at him for being disgusting.

"You know," he leans over, all too pleased with himself, "they were paid for. For the guests-" "that doesn't mean you have your fun!" He snarls, Ares snorts.

"That's exactly what it means."

A pained look.

"Please. Don't be you Ares. This client is important." Ares leans on his horse, eyeing the other elf, "yeah? Why?" The commander puffs out in agitation, glaring ahead of the road.

"The argent dawn had requested a select few healers from both sides to be transported to the tournament grounds." He helpfully and reluctantly explains, "they've asked you to deliver a priest as an ambassador for Silvermoon." A small pause, "and be one of the champions of the horde."


Ah, there it was.

"Ah, is that because I am one of the best warriors alive?" His commander scowls, Ares was fishing in the wrong pond. "Yes. That would be why." Ares chuckles at how forced it sounded. "Fine. I suppose I'll deliver the priest."

"And be pleasant!"

"And be pleasant." Mocking.


The priest was late and Ares was annoyed by it. The sun was running hot in the sky and his armour was too thick for any breeze to funnel through.

"Who is this anyway?" Ares gripes, rolling his eyes. The commander wipes his brow, "his name is high priest Azrael Darkdragon. He should be along soon- ah there is the squad." The squad consisted of four heavily armed guards and the priest who, was just covered enough that all Ares could see was the white legs of the horse he rode.

"High priest!" The commander bowed and Ares followed slowly after the commander glares at him. The four guards got down first and then the white horses figure hopped off, pulling his hood as he went.

Ares watches the priest as he is revealed, the priest had an angled, very pretty face. The robes hugged his body like a woman and his hips were wider. He almost looked like a women, if not for his firm jaw and long white brows.

"Commander," even his voice was petal like and gentle. It rang like church bells and sounded like a cooing dove all at once. How pretty. Ares liked pretty faces.

"Greetings," he bows his head again, Ares rolls his eyes. "If it please you," the priest gestures for him to continue, a delicate hand flicking. "This is Lieutenant Ares Dawnstealer, he will be your escort to Northrend." The priest turns, sauntering over with alluring steps, he looked very innocent as he did, tucking a long stripe of hair behind his long, piereced ear. There was four rings of metal crawling up his ear that twinkled in the light.

"Dawnstealer? Is that a family name?" Ares smirks despite himself, "earned," a curious looks crosses his face, his perky mouth formed an O shape, "earned?" Ares leans on the horse, which barely noticed, "I stole many men's dawns. That is why I am called Dawnstealer." The priest is amused, smiling with his eyes and soft cheeks.

"That's quite a horse," again his amusement is outweighed by curiosity. Ares gazes beside him, looking up at the massive head of his Destrier. "He is. His name is Sun," the priest lifts his hand, petting the fuzzy snout, "he's very sweet." Ares pats his side roughly, "he’s sweet on pretty things."

The blush was almost worth the talking his commander was going to give him later.

"We should be on our way, high priest. As you will," Azrael snaps out of his trance, smiling pleasantly at the commander, "yes of course."

The guards accompanied them until they reached the end of the Silvermoon docks. The ship was big enough to house three rooms, one for Ares, the priest and the commander. There was a place to hold their horses and it was nicely kept. Ares leans on the railing, looking over the sunset as the ship set its sails.

"Sir Dawnstealer," the priest’s velvet voice perks his attention, "Ares," he says automatically, without thinking, Azrael nods curtly, his hair waving in the breeze, "have you ever been to Northrend?" Ares spins around, planting his elbows on the wood rail, reguarding the high priest. His skin was pale, even for a bloodelf.

"No, does that worry you?" There was no use in lying about it, the commander would sell him down the river fist chance if he did. "No, I've been told you are competent in everything you do." Ares nods freely, feeling his high foxtail bob and brush against his neck, tickling it lightly. "Very."


"What did you do?" Curious again.


"Kill people." Ares was a very modest man.

"Is that all?" Adventurous priest.

"What else is there?" It was the priest’s turn to smirk. "Many things," his fingers play with a swaying rope, "dancing, healing- making love." Ares raises a brow, the other elf was almost daring him to speak. "I'm very good at that," his voice grows husky, purring the words. Azrael steps closer, angling his lovely hips toward Ares, "are you?" Now that was a dare.

"Wanna find out?"

"Ares." Oh, that voice. The commanders voice.

Ares tilts his head past the priest, the blush was crimson and he was sorry to miss it. "What?" Annoyance was the first emotion he felt, then anger. "Come. Here." Ares bows, smiling apologetically at the priest.

"Yes?" He hisses, they were far away enough that the priest couldn't hear, "you are not having sex with him."

"Not with you in the way!"

The commander eyes him, "no, not ever. He his a high priest. Not some whore. The one thing I will not allow of you is this. Your pleasures are yours but not when it concerns a client of ours." Ares fumes, clearly. Commander fumes back, glaring thickly "Ares please. Do not. You always... leave your partners without. The high priest is... sensitive and sweet. I won't have you hurting him." Ares is baffled, wide eyed shock, the commander can see it too.

"I'm warning you only once."


The conversation was not something he wanted to have, but the commander was breathing down his neck. "Ah, it was very unprofessional of me too speak too you in such a way high priest." Azrael was making the face again, mouth slightly agap, eyes open and wide. It was very cute. The commander was right. He was far too sweet for Ares.

"Well," it was a gentle sigh, a warm puff of air that danced across his face and made Ares gulp, "thank you for being professional, Sir Dawnstealer." Oh.... last name. That hurt a little. "How long will we be until we arrive?"

Ares let it sink in and the burn overtake, "a day. Then a week or more until icecrown. We will be stopping in Dalaran for a banquet in the champions honour then we head to Icecrown. If that is all?" A sad, cold look.

"Yes that is all."


The ride from the Tundra to Dalaran was quiet, awful and uneventful. The commander parted ways at a fork to assist in the Basin, saying something about helping out there and heading back home since it was all standard from Dalaran to Icecrown. Ares wasn't very interested in the banquet, but he had too go for apperenced sake. He had to wear his armour and look regal, like all the horde champions had too.

It was amazing however to meet Thrall, the warchief. Ares got to stand with him, speak to him. He got to swap war stories for a while before Thrall was needed for other things. Which left Ares to prowl about the party and flirt.

He met a lovely elf rouge that was currently twirling her hair, "so you're a champion?" Ares puffs a little, looking proud "I am, chosen by the warchief himself." It wasn't a total lie, he was hand picked, but Ares knew it wasn't by the warchief. Still she looked impressed and believed him. Whether or not she knew it was a lie was moot point now, because she was giving him quite the steamy look.

"Oh, would you like to show me why you were hand picked?" Ares chuckles, "I'll show you all night-" "sir Dawnstealer?" Ares deflates, but schools his face "high priest, what an honour!" The priest looks very upset, "may I have you for a moment?" The rouge pouts, Ares shrugs, "a minute sweetheart?" She sighs, waving her hand dismissively. Sauntering off. Ares can't help but follow.

"Sir?" Annoyed.

"What?" Equally, if not more annoyed.

"Is it wise to be seeking company?" Ares thinks it's very wise, "what does it matter?" He can't help but be flat and snippy. "Well... well I think it's... it's not professional!" His squeaking is almost cute. "No," Ares draws out the word, teasing the end. "It's not professional to sleep with you, everyone else is game."

"Like I was?" Ares cringed at the retort.

"I wasn't... I wasn't going to act on that!" He hisses, whispering with a pinched face, "it was harmless flirting! I wouldn't sleep with you."

"You wouldn't?" He sounded so hurt.

"What- wait. You- you just said you didn't want to sleep with me!" Now he was confused.

"No. I asked if I was game too you. I didn't say anything about not wanting too... sleep with you." He didn't seem to like the sound of 'sleep with' when it left his perfect lips. "You're not game too me," Ares blabbers, not sure of what he was even saying anymore. "Than what am I?" Ares doesn't like this conversation.

"You're... you're someone I can't sleep with!" Azrael looks like he just caught him in something, "than I suggest you don't."

"What...? Than why are we-"

"You should make love too me instead." A very welcome interruption.

 


Ares had his hands on the other elves thighs, holding him up to his body as they stumbled into his room, he was right before when he thought about how soft his robes are, and how plump his lips were. The priest was breathing heavily, wiggling his front against Ares, making the other huff and growl out pleasured noises. "Have..." Ares groans, "you ever?" The question was obvious, Azrael shakes his head "no... you'll be.. be the first." That made it somehow hotter.

The plate made clunking noises as it fell away, Ares was eager to stripe himself of the heavy armour. Along his way, the warrior licked and bit what he could reach on Azrael, making him cry out and mewl from the attention.

Ares got his hands under the soft robes, fanning his fingers over the pert nipples, the priest squirms, breaking their kiss with a shutter. "Like that?" He rasps against his mouth, tugging lightly at the flesh. Azrael bucks into him, eyes fluttering shut.

"Please," he begs, humping into Ares' leg "please more." This makes his grin, planting another sloppy kiss to the priest's swollen lips, "as you wish..."

Ares made a mess of the high priest, he was a panting mess, bite marks and hickies littered his torso and hips, Ares eyes him hungrily as he eased forward. The pink flushed head of his cock bobbed lightly as he got face to face with it, it was average sized and beating red and drooling pre-cum.

Ares licks at the tip, causing Azrael to jerk and look away, embarrassed at the sharp whine he made. Ares pops the spongy head into his wet mouth, swirling his tongue along the slit, feeling the other elf shake.

Ares goes slower than usual, drawing out reactions and teasing as he bobs his head down the shaft, hallowing his cheeks as he goes. Azrael was whimpering, trying to buck into his mouth. Ares has a twinkle in his eye as he allows the cock too fill his throat, absolutely delighted in the noise the priest made.

"Oh gods-" Azrael arches, clawing at the sheets as Ares swallows down his whole length, his legs part wider and the warrior coats his fingers with oil. Since it was the priests first time Ares would distract him from the discomfort that came with stretching. Without warning his touched the pink puckered hole, watching Azrael force his head into the pillows. Ares toyed with the pucker, loosing it gently while he worked. Azrael, like most tried to wiggle away, but Ares sucked harder on him and then the little priest locked up and wailed.


Slowly, while licking the head of his cock furiously Ares poked his middle finger inside, sliding it into the warm heat. Azrael grunts, huffing at the intrusion. Ares kisses the head, mutter just loud enough for the priest too hear, "you're doing so good." The phrase had the priest blushing deeply, it crawled down his chest and made him look very delicate.

Azrael threads his shaky fingers through Ares' loose hair, tugging gently at the roots. Ares hums around his cock, making Azrael jolt and hiss. Ares worked his finger, curling it in the spot that made the priest jump off the bed and down his throat. Ares felt quite smug when he saw tears running out of Azrael's eyes as he chanted his name.

Adding the second finger made him stiff, squirm again as he worked it with the other, Ares quickly got him used too it, stringing the pleasure along as he sucked him off. "Ares-" he gasps, Ares hums again, scissoring his fingers, making the stretch burn at little.

The third finger had Azrael grunting in pain, legs restlessly rubbing at his shoulders, Ares can't do much about it, so he works, waiting too see the pleasure bubble again, looking for the special spot inside of him.

When he found it Azrael yowled and came straight down his throat. Ares sucked harshly, milking the spot with his fingers until the priest spent himself completely. Ares didn't hate the taste as he felt it on his tongue, gladly swallowing it all down before releasing the poor virgin.

"O-oh... gods-" Azrael was wrecked and Ares peacocked quite obviously at that, wiping his fingers on the sheets as he applied more oil to his unattended cock. "Ready?" He asks, jerking the soft cock to life, Azrael twitches and humps into the hand, moaning sweetly, "yes...!" He stresses, Ares smirks, kissing his lips again, "turn over for me beautiful." There was a hard, dark blush, but he did as commanded. Ares pulls his hips up, making Azrael's legs spread. Ares thrusts his cock between the cleft of his checks, shocking him into arching.

Ares presses his hand between the taught shoulderblades, pushing his front flush to the bed, "makes it easier to take it," he whispers dirtily in the long, pale ear, nipping the piercings along the way. Azrael gulps, nodding frantically. "Relax," he prods, inserting the tip. The puckered hole parts with little resistance, but Azrael tenses, making a straggled noise as Ares fills him.

"Shh, relax okay? You're doing so good," Ares kisses up his spine, mouthing at his neck "so good for me, yeah?" Azrael nods, frantically. Ares bottoms out, holding his position, "you took it all, I'm so proud," he teases, jerking off his cock where it hangs beaten his legs. Azrael pants, his body doesn't know what to do, his ass is wiggling back into the cock that speared him, but he's also trying to get away, pull off. Ares thinks it cute as he struggles.

"I'm gonna move now, okay?" A long pained mewl is his only response, Ares pulls out until the head of his cock is the only thing left, before easing back in. Azrael huffs harshly though his nose, not taking it well, but the warrior coos "so good, you're doing so good."

"A-Ares...!" He squeaks.

"Azrael," he melts.

His keeps his thrusting slow, even, pushing more and more until the priest is writhing in the sheets. Ares jerks his hand along with his hips, making Azrael squirm and moan, he could cum just watching that, but he won't. Not this time at least.

"More.. more please!" He sounds frustrated, Ares chuckles deeply, kissing his back again "you ask so nicely, of course." Ares all but slams his head, jolting Azrael's whole body up the bed. Azrael moans deeply, throwing his head back. His cock is weeping, dribbling in the sheets as Ares sets a brutal pace. The sounds of Azrael's moaning bounces off the walls along with the observe noise of his ass slapping into Ares' pelvis.


"Oh-oh I'm..." Azrael's claws at the sheets, Ares encourages him by squeezing his cock while ramming into him, "cum for me beautiful." Azrael quakes, a whine rolls from his open throat and his ass squeezes Ares into his own orgasm. Ares empties himself inside the tight hole, growling around the flesh he bit into on Azrael's back.

Ares' hand is still pumping his cock, forcing every spurt out until it dribbled down the back of his hand and Azrael gave out with a gasp, legs falling numbly into the bed, unable to keep up. Ares' cock slips out with a wet noise and he goes down too, purring happily as he kisses what parts of Azrael's face he can reach, until the priest indulges him and turns to kiss him sweetly.

"C'mere" Ares mumbles, pulling then both onto their sides, Azrael follows with a giggle, pushing back into his warm body, "goodnight Ares," he whispers so sweetly. Ares can't help the dopey smile that breaks across his face. "g'night Azrael."


The morning brought complications, at least when Ares remembered what his commander said.

"Good morning handsome," Azrael sloppily kisses his cheek, curling into his body. Ares never usually had his partner stay, either he would leave or they would. This however was a whole different situation. "My commander can't find out about this," he says instead of goodmorning, like the shit he was.

Azrael pouts, confused. Ares explains. "He told me not to get involved with you..." Azrael hums in understanding, eyes opening wide "oh..." he mutters, "does that.. does that mean we can't... do this again?" Ares lazily smirks, "we just can't get caught." Azrael wasn't the type of partner he usually had, he was not just a hit it and quit it kind of guy. He was the marrying kind. The sex with strings kind.

"Is... that all we are? Just sex?" He had to be very careful with his answer.

"I haven't had any other kind of relationship..." he was being honest, "I'm not sure what I'm doing... but no. Not just sex. I know you don't want that." The way Azrael beamed made Ares melt, the priest excitedly kisses him, giggling while clinging too him, but Ares stresses "but we really can't get caught-" "yes sir." Ares groans, rolling them over.

 

Chapter Text

There were three times a year Dobera was fond of, along with the festivals that came with them.

Children’s week, because of the smiling babies and the adoption.

Hallows end because he got to take children all over Azeroth to get candies.

And lastly, Christmas because he got to shower his wife in the most expensive gifts and she couldn’t be upset with him for spending so much.

Children’s week was long passed, but hallows end was just around the corner and Dobera, as promised always found himself at the welcoming gates of Shattrath. Dobera was none too surprisingly friendly with just about everyone how lived in the old city. There were many children here, those of Sin’dori blood, human and Draenei. Even a few orc children.

Dobera walked until he saw the banners and children all gathered outside the orphanage. They were creating hallows end decorations.

A matron noticed him first, a young woman he knew all too well. Freema, a very bright Draenei who grew up accustomed to his visits. She was never adopted into a family, but the girl never seemed bothered by it. In fact after she was of age to find her own place in the world Freema decided to stay and care for the other children.

“Dobera!” She shouts excitedly, rushing up from her chair and dropping the paper cute ghosts she was working on. Dobera chuckles, opening his arms as she runs straight for him. Other children bound up in excitement, all knowing who he was. There was new children and new faces, they were confused but happy all the same to see an adventurer.

“You are looking more beautiful then I remember,” he tells Freema, kissing her cheek. The young Draenei beams, “and you- you look tired!” She giggles at the deflated look he gives. “Come come, sit! The children will love too meet you!”

Four new children, two elves and two Draenei. Freema told all the children to gather in a circle and Dobera told one of his favourite stories. How he met his wife.
They were fresh paladins, new to the order. They met when he wife wished to train with him. Elowinn was adamant she could prove to be the strongest. Dobera was surprised at her confidence, he was the biggest Draenei in the ranks, but determined as she was Dobera allowed the challenge.


Now of course, he was much stronger, but she was a little faster. By the end of it they were an equal match and all their fellow paladins were shocked she could so easily topple him. Freema laughed, just like she always did when he told his silly stories. “Come come children, lets have Dobera help us make the decorations!” Dobera was not very good at this, but he enjoyed helping everytime he was roped into it.


His hands were too large for the little paper, but he tried as the children distracted him and asked their questions.

“What weapons do you use?”

“Is plate armour really heavy?”

“Have you met the prophet?!”


Dobera laughs, holding his hands up, “one at a time, little ones.” They anxiously wait, fidgeting in their spots. “I use a mace and shield, it is called Truthguard and Oathseeker. Yes, plate armour is very heavy, but it protects me. And Prophet Velen is one of my most treasured friends.” The children were in absolute awe.

“Do you have and kids? Can we play with them?” Dobera gave the boy a gentle smile, ruffling his hair, “I have no children little one. I am an adventurer, this life is no good to children.” The boy pouts, shaking his head “I think it’s exciting! You’ve killed dragons and evil men!” Dobera picks him up, settling him on his knee, “exciting yes, but not safe. One day you will see and understand.” The boy looks at him with glowing eyes, a determined look within them.

“I want to be a paladin! I want to be just like you!” Dobera feels his heart clinch, “one day, but for now- just be who you are.” Freema watches the boy hop down, pretending to act as what he thinks a paladin would. Two other boys join him and Dobera watches fondly.

“You know, that excuse will only last so long. You’ve overused it enough as it is.” Freema heard him say the same thing when she was but a little girl. Secretly she had hoped he would adopt her, much like many of these children now. Dobera throws her a look, shrugging his shoulders. “It is no less true. Elowinn and I lead very dangerous lives. I will not bring a child into it until I’ve nothing left to fight.” Freema laughs at his words, shaking her head, “you will always find something to fight, you always do.” Dobera looks a little sheepish at this, knowing she was right.

“How is Elowinn? Is she coming?” Dobera nods eagerly, “she was delayed by duties, but she will be here tomorrow morning to help with costumes.” Freema giggles, “I miss her so. Maybe this time she can convince you to adopt!” Dobera gives her a pained look, but says nothing.

The children loved Dobera, but they adored Elowinn. The day she came all the girls gifted her with crowns full of flowers and the boys bashfully hugged her legs. Elowinn kisses and hugs all the children, leaving none without affection. The boys squirm and blush, but melt a little. The girls kiss back and hug her so fiercely Elowinn didn’t want to let go.

But she did, because they were excited to show her their costumes. The boys wanted Dobera to play fight with them, so they parted on a kiss and Elowinn allowed herself to be tugged along by the girls.

“Ms. Elowinn I’m being a princess this year!” Elowinn gasps, eyes widening, “you are?! Wonderful! Lets get started then!” Out of the five girls two wanted to be princesses, one wanted to be a fairy, another a pirate and the last, a Paladin.

“Mr. Dobera has such pretty armour! I’ve seen it before! All golden and sliver! Please help me make it!” Elowinn was delighted too.

Eventually Dobera got the boys making their costumes, the four had decided upon being Warriors and Ghouls. One however sauntered toward Dobera, stresses white cloth in his hand. “Yes little one?” The boy was a bloodelf, one with tanned skin and a cut under his glowing green eye. Dobera had never seen this boy before.

“Can you help me?” He had a light voice, he was whispering so all the others couldn’t hear him. “Of course I can,” Dobera says equally quiet, “what can I do?” The boy wrestles with the fabric for a moment before fishing a folded picture from his pocket, hastily giving it to Dobera. Dobera carefully unfolds it, surprised to find an old recruitment photo, one of a priest standing on a hill with light magic painted to portray healing.

“You want to be a priest?” The boy nods frantically, “more than anything!”

Dobera smiles, gently tugging the fabric from his fingers, “I think this can be done.”


Trick-or-Treating with the children proved as fun as it always had been. A slice of normal the couple only got three times a year. Elowinn walked with him behind the lack of children, in one hand her husband and the other two empty pillow cases.

“You’re growing your beard out,” she observes, kissing his stubbled chin. Dobera nods, leaning into her touch “do you like it?” Elowinn shakes her head, watching the children excitedly thank the couple in the pot for giving them candy. “No, you’ve never done it before, I like it.” Dobera shrugs, dragging his feet. “Change is good.”


Elowinn jumps at his words, “is it?” She sounded eager in her own right, Dobera gives her a look. “Of course it is... why?” Elowinn bites her lip, worried now and showing it badly. “Elowinn?” It wasn’t often he used her full name, she gulps. “It is... really dangerous for us to have children?” They went through something like this every time they spent time with the children. Sometimes it was harder than the last.

Elowinn loves the children, but hates sometimes to see the same ones each time they arrive. Year after year Elowinn wonders if she will not see one of the familiar faces. Sometimes they’re adopted, sometimes they are not.

Freema has spent her whole life in the orphanage, from the day she was five to her eighteenth birthday. No one adopted her and every year Elowinn would cry, wishing she could’ve been the one to do it.


Dobera feels awful as he says it. “That never changes Elowinn.” She deflates, “but can’t it? My duties are minor to yours...” Dobera was the Highlord of the order, Elowinn was the Highlady, but wasn’t tasked so harshly with duties like Dobera was. “What if lights hope is attacked, like it was before- the deathknights killed our men, a child would be nothing to them.” Elowinn remembers that day, remembers Dobera kneeling over the bodies and praying for them himself.

Remembers how he cried in rage.

“They explained that! They didn’t-“ “they almost killed Lady Ladrian, Elowinn.” Elowinn stresses her hands into his arm, squeezing the muscle, “Please my love... I can’t bare it anymore!” Dobera looks away, trying to find something else to anchor too.

All he sees are the children up ahead, circling around each other.

He sees the little elf in his priest costume, looking mighty and proud.

Dobera shitters quietly, closing his eyes.

“This will bring us nothing but pain, you know this don’t you?” He was right, he knew he was. But for now the happiness in her face made up for it completely.


The children all together had collected four pillow cases of candy. Dobera had to carry it back, but did so happily. “Everyone shares!” The children knew this and once Dobera places the bags down they jumped at it, shouting which kinds they wanted and giggling.

Freema chuckles at the door, watching them eat and pass candies, making a neat little pile for the wrappers.

Dobera limbers toward her, inclining his head, “who has been here the longest?” Freema is shocked, “Oh- um... Théoden- the blood elf.” Dobera frowns, looking at the young boy he helped with the priest costume, “I have never seen him here before?” Freema licks her lips, fixing hair behind her ears, “he was, long ago. He came here as a baby, you may not recognize him. Théoden was adopted a few months after-“ a wounded look crosses her pretty face.

“A nice couple but they... they were attacked and killed,” Freema speaks in hushed tones, “the child was brought back- he lived with them for three years, he’s seven.”


Dobera puckers his lips, sighing lightly. “Give me all the papers for him.”

Freema stands ridged, “are you-“ “yes. But we have to be quiet for now. I don’t want the other children upset.” Freema nods quickly, “yes yes of course- this way!”

Chapter Text

There was nothing interesting to Asch.

There was the temple, training to be a priest, a healer.

Dress in fine silks and be a good girl, learn the fundamentals of light magic. Asch was not interested in that, not interested in the excitement Tyrande found in it.

Illidan was allowed to be a mage, Malfurion was to be the first Druid.

What did it mean to be a Druid? What were they? Asch wasn’t allowed to know.

So she dragged her feet, watching her friends become one with their studies.

Illidan wasn’t having an easy time accepting his role, but he always found a smile for the girls. Even now, he sits, smiling. Tryande was making a grand story, how a classmate went a tripped in a pool of blessed waters- or something.

Asch sighs, a bit loudly. Tryande frowns a little at the flicker of attention stolen from her. Malfurion is the one to perk up, “what’s wrong?” He teases, “That was a mighty sigh.” Asch jolts, mouth agap, “um- nothing!” Illidan cocks a brow, looking unconvinced, “is that so?”

Asch nods quickly, “that’s so!”

They share a look, a heated teasing look before Illidan breaks and chuckles warmly, “finish your story for Mal, Asch come with me.” Little by little moments like this became treasured and loved. Asch lets him haul her up, pulling her right too him. Illidan squeezes her in a warm hug before letting her stand on her own feet. “Be back soon!” Mal calls, he knows they won’t.

“So,” Illidan asks more seriously, “you’ve been sighing all week. What’s wrong?” Illidan was always insightful, even when it wasn’t obvious. Somehow he noticed her dampened spirit. “Well. It’s...” Asch doesn’t know how to put it. “Mal.. Tryande- you... you’ve all found something. I’m not interested in becoming a priestess.” Illidan hims thoughtfully, nodding along to her troubles.

“But it’s all I’m allowed too do!” She huffs, throwing her arms up. Illidan had walked them toward a thicker part of the forest, Asch felt quite lost, but didn’t care very much. “What about being a sentinel? One of the Wardens?” Asch puffs her cheeks, tripping on an exposed root, of not of Illidan’s quick fingers she would have fallen.

“Oh- ugh! I’ve thought about it... just I don’t want to kill things- I just want to help. To give life!” The evergreens made her head calm and the grass tickled her feet. Illidan stops them, a knowing look. “It thought you might like this spot-“ he bites his lip, “midwife?” Asch snorts, pushing his shoulder before sinking in the grass. All around them crickets could be heard and a batch of fireflies erupted from where Asch disturbed the grass.

“I was serious,” he grins at her pinched face, “I’d more then likely drop the baby...” Asch was never good with babies, they cried when she held them... even her brothers and sisters did when they were young enough.

“What do you like?” Illidan finally asks, out of his own ideas. Asch ponders quietly, waving her hand through the grass... she could tell Illidan, he wouldn’t make fun of her.

“The earth, the trees- flowers and streams.” A clipped chuckle, “you want to ba a Druid than?” Asch nods eagerly, looking sad despite his smile, “I’m sorry you aren’t allowed. I think you’d make a fine one.” It was a sour note, Illidan was fated to be a Druid, but was barred from learning because of his attitude for power. It was fitting he chose to be a mage.

“I’d like to think so.”


This spot, the spot where the evergreen incased a meadow of thick tall grass, it was the spot they would go three more times.

The second was after a long time, a time Asch nearly forget Illidan’s face. She sat petting the grass and touching the wild flowers.

Illidan broke through, a stranger of himself. Asch was alarmed, staring at the deepened skin colour and the tatted cloth covering his eyes. “Illidan?!” She cries, worried sick. Illidan jerks to her voice, huffing in pain. “What’s- what’s happened?! What’s wrong with your eyes?!” Asch pulls his, labouring his body to the grass bed. Holding him as if she lost him.

Illidan wheezes, covered in sweat, “you... you aren’t afraid?” Asch frowns, what a silly question. “Afraid? Of what?” She pulls his hair free, seeing the stress it put on his head, the knot far too tight to be comfortable.

“Of me!” His voice had dropped, as if it was damaged, “why would I be afraid of you?” All too suddenly he yanks out of her hold, ripping the cloth from him face, “this is why!” Asch was startled, always pushed back by the sheer might of his movement.


Illidan has lost his warm golden eyes, in place were sockets a blazing fell. As if the ooze was what was left of his eyes. “Oh... Illidan,” She says, so sad. “What has been done to you?” Illidan seems to struggle with her words, frowning and raging at the same time, conflicted.

“Why aren’t you afraid?! They were! Tyrande was!” Asch feels further pain, she attempts to pull him back, cooing softly “I do not fear you Illidan, there is nothing to be scared of.”

That seemed to extinguish the flame, Illidan collapsed in her embrace, hugging her so tightly she couldn’t breathe. It was only moments before he let go, but she did not catch her breath. Illidan shoves himself forward, catching her lips in a harsh and rushed kiss. It was full of pain and boiling anger, teeth and lashing tongue.

Asch is shocked, gripping his chest with claw like nails that didn’t seem to hurt him.

Illidan tears away, gasping into her throat.

“S-stay,” He pleads.

And she does.

The last Asch will ever see of him comes the day after their shared kiss. She of course did not know.

Illidan has come again, as he promised. His clothes were meant for war, the clock on his back held the symbol of Blackrook. Asch smiles anyway, not the least bit unsettled by the greenish hue the sky had be given.

There was a moment he paused, standing tall and looking down, an easy smile on his face. “Your hair looks beautiful with Lily flowers in it,” he muses, “fitting.” Asch giggles, shaking her hair, “there are none- but thank you.” Illidan lumbers down, clipping his mantle off.

“I’m going to war,” he tells her, looking into the evergreens. Asch wasn’t going.

“I know.”

“I may not come back.” He sounded far less worried ten he should about that.

“Come back,” she stresses, tearing up. Illidan glances at her, “Illidan come back!” Asch wasn’t sure she could demand anything of him, lately his letters have been short and rushed, like it was a chore to assure her his wellbeing.

A chore to see her.

“Why?” He challenges, a bored expression.

“Because I don’t want my love wasted on a dead man!” Asch snarls, all tears and teeth. Illidan’s dead eyes widen in what had to be shock. “You shouldn’t give it too me!” He hisses, looking away.

“Why not?!” She challenges.

“I’ve none to give to you.” That hurt. She knew. All of it was for Tryande. None was spared for her. Asch masked her pain.

“Give me something else, than.” Illidan stares at her, unsettling something inside her. “You’re going to regret asking this.” He tells her, Asch tilts a brow, “will I? Why? If you’re to die then what will I regret?” Illidan moves, almost like a big cat stalking prey in the grass. Asch lets him move, lets him shadow on top of her.

The kiss was mean and hurried, like the last one he gave her. Asch decides to be meaner, yanking at his hair, almost ripping it from his skull until it came free of its tail. Illidan only groans against her lips, slotting between her open legs.

Asch vaguely realizes he’s moving her, placing her a top his discarded cloak before he begins undressing her. Asch didn’t have much to lose, a dress that was pulled off her head and plain panties. Illidan savagely damages her throat, marking it to his satisfaction until he moves lower, Asch digs her knees into his sides, hating the scratch of his leather and armour. Illidan moves his mouth over her nipples, licking and nipping until they budded under the attention.


Asch felt the shocks go right between her legs, a pool of interest already stirring in her belly. Asch tugs at his armour with her knees, trying to toe his pants off. Illidan parts for a second, but she’s already mewling for more attention. The only thing in her mind was that Tyrande had never gotten this. It was a sick jealousy she knew.

It wasn’t fair. Tyrande was not interested in Illidan or what he offered. Asch didn’t understand why, he was capable and clever. Handsome as sin. He was by no means proper like she liked, but didn’t every girl like a little bad? Asch knew at this very moment it was bad. Maybe Illidan had his fun with a few girls before, it was the only explanation for how he knew what to touch, but Asch didn’t.

Asch wasn’t allowed to touch or explore. That her flower was to be plucked by her husband. Not a man that didn’t share her love.

Dread filled her stomach where pleasure was absent, was this pity? Did he know? Was this just his way of quieting her?

Illidan nips harshly at her hip bone, grinning now at her, “are you bored?” He must have mistook her vacant look for vapidness rather than sickness.

Asch swallows, shaking her head, “no.. no I... I’ve- Illidan I’ve never done this before.” A smug, proud and annoying smirk comes in response, “good.” What was good about it?


Asch figures there wasn’t anything for it. Illidan already had her love and affection, What was her virginity too? It wasn’t as though she had anyone else. Asch felt very alone as he draws her legs up, wondering truly if he was going to die. Wondering if he was going to come back, and if he’d even come back too her. Many were spending the last hours of freedom like they were, couples, lovers and families holding each other, becoming one. After all. No one is saved from war.

Was she nothing to him? Was his interest solely because she didn't turn him away the day Tyrande and Malfurion had? Was that the only line of life strung between them? Asch thought it was more, thought there was at least friendship, but amoug his waning interest was a gap nothing could ever heal. Illidan’s words became poison and forced.

But she could have this, nothing not even he could ruin this. Asch could be happy with this moment, if it was to be the last.

His cock opens her, a fowl whine comes from her mouth as a hot purr slides from his. His hips press hard against her ass, a blissful look upon his face. The pain is horrible, the slow rock of his hips making it unbearable. Asch makes her displeasure known, clawing at him like a vengeful cat.

Illidan is biting her throat, drawing pain somewhere to distract, cooing words of praise that make it all worthwhile. His movement become more rapid, steady despite the speed of it. Soon the promise of pleasure is delivered, Asch moans as he spears her, egged on by her interest.

There was a harsh, dissociative feeling. Asch knew completely well he was using her.

She was too.

It was poison, complete and terrible poison.

Asch took more.

“Illidan...!” She pulls at his loose hair, forcing him forward. The blind was lost and the dead sockets stare at her like gaping wounds. She shutters, a whole different reason rearing it’s head.

How will she move on? Will the pain dull? It hadn’t since the day she fell in love, would it be better if he died? Then there will be no hope, no future. This doesn’t comfort her.

It ends all to soon, the sudden rush and his hiss. The wet feeling of his come across her thighs. The absence of his bodies warmth. Asch pants, a shadow slithers off her. He yanks his hair back up, tying it tightly.

He did not bring his blind. Asch pulls his cloak, lifting it around her, not bothering too move. A dry sob leaves her, but she makes no other sound.


Illidan stalks to the brush, swallowing a lump.

“I will regret this.” Illidan whispers, leaving the evergreen circle for the last time.

Yes, yes he will.


Tryande doesn’t ask why Asch had Illidan’s cloak, doesn’t ask about the scratches and bites on her bare shoulders or the messy look.

Malfurion swallows, feeling her pain in equal measure.

“Asch,” he mutters, beckoning her closer. Tyrande stays where she’s sat, watching her beloved walk with the broken girl.

“You’ll be leaving too,” she says, Mal nods “we will... Illidan didn’t... didn’t hurt you- did he?” She allowed him to do it. “No,” a lie. They both know it.

“He does love you,” Mal insists, Asch flinches away from him, “don’t!” Mal shakes his head, “it’s true! He doesn’t see it yet, but he does. If he comes back he’ll need someone. Please Asch be that someone.”

There was a feeling of betrayal, a clouded hatred, how could he ask her this? It was unfair. Asch was no stand in, wasn’t someone who would wait. She was not that desperate.

“Malfurion... if I... if I do this you have to promise me something.” He inquires, a tilt of his head.

“Train me.”

Chapter Text

Illidan felt wet.

Not a good kind of wet, if there was any.

A fowl, sticky and wrong wet.


Alarmed, he opens his eyes, pulling up despite the groggy feeling.

What greets him in nothing short of horrifiying. Covering practically all the bed was black fel ooze and chunks of whiteish globs. What really startled him is the wretched sob to his right.

Illidan sees, but he doesn’t see. The drag marks on the floor, the crumple ball of his wife. The terrible stench of it all. “Asch!” He throws the ruined sheets away, feeling it on his skin.

Asch didn’t respond to him, she was bracing in pain, the ooze spilling from out of her. Illidan plants a hand on her back, Asch’s sob breaks into a pained wail, Edan is crying in his crib. Her hand is fisting the front of her gown, clawing at her belly. “H-hurts!” She manages through clinched teeth.

A wet plop resounds and Asch gives in, Illidan stops her from sliding into the puddle of vile ooze. “Velen,” He tells her, “going to Velen.”


There wasn’t much to be done at this point. All of it was gone now he was told. They can sleep in a new room, nothing was wrong now. A few pain remedies and a bath had fixed it.

Fixed it.

Illidan knew the Draenei was being clinical, he would have appreciated it if it wasn’t the circumstances they were.

A few ruined towels stuffed in a bin beside her was the only indication anything at all happened. Asch’s body was still convulsing, trying to expel further waste.

A miscarried fetus.


There was a vacant dead look across her pretty face, a sickly colour to her already pale skin.

Illidan had no words of comfort, because there was nothing he could say that would lessen this. Nothing he could provide that would stop the pain. He felt it too, the wretched tug, the overwhelming feeling of being too deep under water to swim back.

It felt like his lungs were crushed under a weight he couldn’t lift. Illidan takes care to make little noise as he walks over, a solid hand is placed on her knee. She vaguely turns, seeing him but not really. Illidan offers nothing but his presence and tears come anew, to both their faces.

They had a long time, sitting quietly. Another convulsion drenched the bed in pure transparent ooze and Illidan takes care to lift her off and pull the towels. He helps Asch back into a new gown, throwing the ruined one away with the towels. Lastly he puts a kiss to her forehead, ready to return to motionless silence until she speaks.

“Edan...” Illidan quiets her, gripping her hands, “do you want him? He’s with my brother.” Asch nods frantically, desperately. Illidan licks his licks “okay. I’ll get him for you.” Illidan leaves her, alone like she must feel.


Mal was standing with Edan, bouncing him as he slept soundly. “Mal,” Illidan calls quietly, the Druid looks shocked too see him. “Is she-“ “for now she’s fine... it was a.... miscarriage.” Dread filled his aged face, absolute sorrow overtaking his brother, “Illidan I’m so sorry.” Illidan sighs, heart clinching, “it’s alright... I knew it may be an outcome” Mal nods slowly, “no less painful.”

“No. No less.” A beat passes.

“Here, I assume he’s what you came for?” A careful smile, Illidan takes the sleeping babe.


Mal makes a short noise, getting his attention again, “Tyrande wishes too see you.” Illidan snarls, baring his teeth, “she wants to have words, nothing more brother... I believe her intentions better... than before.”

“Now?” Mal bites his lip, “um.” Illidan glared flatly, “fine. A moment than.”

Asch is sitting upright, looking at her hands, almost statue like.

“My love?” This prompts a motion, “I have Edan,” Asch takes him, wraps him in her arms, burying her face, “thank you.” Illidan leans over, kissing her head. “I only wish I could do more- I’ll be back shortly I have too take care of something.” She gives him a weak smile, seeking his kips for one last kiss before he leaves.


In place of Malfurion was Tyrande. Her dress was long and piled on the floor. “Illidan... I just... I heard.” It wasn’t a great start.

“A relief too you I suppose.” He bites. Tyrande looks wounded, “Illidan I was wrong... life is precious I shouldn’t have said such things before.” Illidan crosses his arms, a hateful scowl rests upon his face.

“I moved on.” He hisses, “after all of it. I forgot you- and you... you have the nerve to tell me my child is a monster. That my union is unholy and the woman whose only given her love to me is fowl!” Tyrande says nothing in defence, staring at the ground.

“We are too different.” She says.

“I know that now.” Illidan loved Tyrande so much. With everything he had. But... they would never see eye to eye. They were never alike. He wanted her because she was this unreachable, beautiful creature. One that was strong and fierce, truly a goddess.

But they would never be good for each other, they were poison, they would clash. It was not right. And after all this time Illidan finally realized his foolishness. But there was always a place in his heart for the love lost between them.


He could now aleast give her forgiveness.

“I’ve no love left for you,” he still snaps, curling his lip. A sad smile crosses her face, “I know. I never deserved it in the first place. She did.” Asch. Illidan didn’t deserve that love either.

“Your child is beautiful, Illidan.” She tells him, meeting his gaze. “I hope he is just like you.” That touched a deep part of him, his guard drops and allows to feel something more than anger.

“Well... not just like you-“ Illidan rolls his eyes, snorting despite her tasteless joke.

“Friends?” That seemed so foreign now.

“Friends.”

Illidan leaves with a weight lifted from his chest. Edan was awake, cooing and squealing up at his mother, who finally smiled. “Asch.” His wife smiles up at him, “look Illidan!” The demon looks, chuckling as Edan flexes his wings.

“Ada!” Edan squeaks, reaching for him. “Yes little one I am here,” Illidan leans forward, nuzzling his forehead into Edan. His baby coos, rubbing back and soaking the affection. Asch in turn kisses his horn, smiling as he turns too look at her.

“I’ll will never let this happen again.”


Illidan took them home, the home they made in the Grove. Velen knee he would see nothing of Illidan for a while and accepted the fact, so it allowed for peace. If only for a few days. Asch deserves to be close to nature, something alive and breathing. Illidan for now refused to take her anywhere else, spend his time doing anything else but please her.

A rare moment had them laying in the bed, sheets ruined and bodies sweaty. Asch is contently tracing his scars. “Could it have been like this?” She asks, wounding aloud. “All those years ago, if you came back? Could we have picked up the pieces before all this?” It was a very good question. Could he?

Illidan thought about Tyrande, thought of what he used to be like and how time and imprisonment had changed him. Illidan spent a lot of his time angry, than sad and than nothing. Sometimes he thought about life, back in his cell where he paced back and forth.

A lot of the time he thought about Tyrande, what he would say to turn her in his favour.

And than, he thought about Asch.

The difference between the two women running in his mind was, Tyrande was something he wanted, but didn’t know what to do with. All of his thoughts centred around obtaining her love, but doing nothing with it.

Asch, he imagined first apologizing, than wondering if the love she had was still real and what to do with it.

What he decided had angered him, he decided he could have loved her, if none of what happened did. Illidan decided he could marry her, give her children and a home.

Illidan never thought about this with Tyrande. He never wanted children with her, never thought of a home or marriage. He just wanted.

But Asch. He wanted to give Asch everything. Once he realized this it was far too late and when he returned too this world it was all he could think about.

“Yes,” He tells her after some thought, “we would have.” Illidan saw the hesitation, the wound opening in her eyes. “I thought about nothing else but that for a time.” A long time. Hours in a day, weeks on end. Illidan thought about all he could do for her, what they could have if he just returned from war.

“Tyrande was something... something I felt I wanted. But you... you made me want everything.” Illidan glances over at Edan, Asch realizes what he means.

Illidan snuggles closer, closing his eyes, remembering his thoughts from long ago. Illidan remembers wanting to go back, walk in the glen after the battle was over and find her. He wanted to tell her how stupidly cruel he was and that if she wanted, to begin anew. Illidan remembers feeling a sick, desperate need too fix all he had damaged.

Go where all the soldiers and their women were and marry her hastily under the moon. Finish what he started, but devote all he had.

Illidan feels foolish, he realized too late and cost himself a more humbled life.

“Would you want that? Rather than this?” Asch bites her lip, Illidan would not be upset if she said so, This life was not exactly the best, but it was what he could provide.

“No,” she mutters softly, hugging him tighter. “This life is just fine.”


Illidan lets his mind wonder, absently petting her naked back. Reminiscing in the long forgotten wishes and dreams he had. Illidan would come home in this illusion, walk through his front door and see his beautiful wife, the one who chose him- still chooses him even for all his faults.

Illidan sees two babies, Edan older then he was now, silver eyed like his mother and paler. There was another boy, white haired and yellow eyed. He was staring up st his father with the wonderment permitted to babies.
Illidan sees his wife, hair hastily piled atop her head, cheeks puffed and flush. Asch waddled toward him, smiling and welcoming him home. Illidan imagines himself smiling, kissing her softly before bending to his unborn child and kissing them.

The night he helps make dinner, feed the babies and put them to bed. Illidan curls up with his wife, much like now and they talk about their days. Illidan would rub her belly and kiss where she let him, excite lovemaking before falling asleep to do it all over again.

It was a simple life, one she deserved more than what he gave her. A life where he could keep giving, providing. Rather than taking and demanding. Illidan knows he should have left well alone. He should have never gone to the grove that day, he should have left the beautiful mother of his child to her fate instead of force this one upon her. It was cruel beyond measure.

But love was never anything but cruel.

“I like this life,” Asch perks his attention, “it’s one with you. I would trade a thousand simpler lives just to have this one with you.” It warms his heart how devoted she was, “no one can take what we have away now.” No, no one could. Not even Tyrande.

Illidan would follow this women to death if it meant spending a few more seconds in her presence. Illidan would rip apart worlds, slay millions of it meant keeping her safe. “I would do anything for you.” He finished aloud, determined like never before.

Asch giggles, “I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t want much than.” Illidan rolls to his side, searching her face as she smiles at him effortlessly. “I’m sorry I made you wait for so long.” Asch cups his face, hushing him.

“I’ll keep waiting Illidan,” there are tears in her eyes, “you don’t have too, not anymore. I’ll never make you wait for a single thing.” Asch sniffles, laughing through her tears,
“Maybe there is one thing...” Illidan smirks, “Oh?”

Asch climbs his hips, manipulating his hands until they rest on her hips, bunching her silk night dress around her thighs. “Wherever you go, you won’t leave me behind.” Illidan felt his heart become swallowed by pain, “my biggest regret was hearing the stories-
And not being in them. Not being there for you...” Illidan frowns, “I know the truths and what I was told. What Tyrande... what she tried too tell me.” Asch grips his hands, stressing his fingers with her own in a nervous habit.

“I know what you wanted- Illidan I know and I’m sorry you were alone- I’ll never let that happen again. Right or wrong I will follow you- even...” her voice breaks, a smile coated with tears, “even if you don’t want me too!” The conviction her in her voice has his mind stirring.

“Okay.” Illidan can only manage, the thick lump struck in his chest swells as she cries, suddenly so happy.

They bask in each other for a long time, Illidan staring up at her, watching her swipe away the tears, smiling at him with all the love in the world. “When...” Illidan begins, “when this is finally over, when the legion is gone from this world- I’ve no reason to fight anymore... I think it’s time we decide upon a future more... dull.”

Asch’s gasps and Illidan now thinks the tears falling from her face will never stop, but he chuckles anyway, quirking a brow. “Really?!” Illidan laughs, full of mirth “yes! Yes Asch, tell me what you want.”

There was a rush of words, Illidan couldn’t understand half of what she was gushing, so he plucked a few words, interrupting before she spiraled further. “A house? Where?” She wiggles, unable to contain her excitement. “In that little glen, surrounded by the trees!”

Illidan scoffs in disbelief, “it still stands?” She pouts, “I hope so... I haven’t been back there since the war-“ she makes a face, clearly upset again, “it might be burnt to the ground... well- can we live with our people? Edan should grow up with elves.” Illidan ponders this, imagining himself living in Darnassaus, living houses down from his brother- Illidan cringes.

“Mhm... I suppose- we are not living with Malfurion.” Asch lives with them now. Well. Her home was in Darnassaus, but since the legion invaded she’s been rooted in the grove. “What else do you want?”

She wanted to teach again, find students and train new adventurers, she wanted to learn the ways of alchemy and herbs. She wanted Illidan to continue teaching his hunters.

“I... I want more children-“ Illidan let’s the shock show on his face, “what happened... I know it could happen again-“ it would happen again. Illidan was a demon. It was by some miracle Asch got Edan far enough that he could live on his own.

“Asch... what happened with our son- it will happen again and again. You cannot carry a demon-“ “no no I know I can’t- it just has to be long enough.” Illidan scowls at that, “what if you miscarry again? I hate the pain it has caused.” Caused them both. Illidan isn’t foolish enough to believe it will never happen again. Edan was born early, this child never developed enough for a chance.

Turalyon won’t be there to save their next child.

“Isn’t it worth it?” She says in a small voice, “the chance to have a family?” Illidan eases up, “you are my family. You were enough and now we have Edan...” he sighs, shaking his head gently.

“But... if it’s what you want- we will try.”

Chapter Text

Cobblestone stung her delicate feet, the dank smell hurt her nose and the claws pulling her along punctured her soft skin.


“What...” says a nasty voice from afar.

“Have you brought me?!” The purple demons flex and bat their wings, banking them just enough to shake her hair wildly around her face. Upon the dais, looking down with a lazy expression was the lord of the black temple. Illidan Stormrage tilts his massive head, hair swaying from one side to the other.


The horns prickling his face twitch with his cruel smile, his mouth full of terrible teeth. “What is it?” He asks with waning interest, one of his demons answer, “a human master, she was prowling around the temple outskirts.” Lilli shutters, panting openly. Illidan regards her.

“Was she? A simple pink skin evaded you until she came to the very outskirts of my temple?” Illidan snorts, amused but dangerous. The demons stiffen, the air was thick with tension. “It seems replacements are in order.” They stayed tense as a bow string, until there was no pressure on either side of her.


Almost instantly their bodies fall, blood coats Lilli’s face and she grimaces, gasping gently. “Now,” his powerful voice says, getting her attention. His mighty hooves boom into the stone below.

“What to do with you?” Lilli can only stare at his impressive shadow.


The lord himself plucked her from the ground, willing her to stand on her own, examining her like a pet. His claws poked at her soft flesh, scratching it because of the shear deadliness of them. His horns almost hit her as he bent, reaching her height by curling downward.

He sniffed the flesh of her throat, Lilli could feel him smirking, “your heart beats so quickly- are you nervous?” Terrified, but something inside her snapped back, “your heart doesn’t beat at all!” The snarl she tried was lost by the raw pain she felt in using her voice after days without doing so. His chuckle reaches every depth of her, his eyes bleeding into Lilli as he watches her.

“I can assure you it beats little girl, don’t be naive. I am cruel because I wish too be, but because I’m absent a heart.” Lilli’s heart was thundering in her brain, beating faster then a speeding stallions steps.

His finger traces the soft plain of her cheek, again scratching the flesh. “I think I may just keep you.” He tells her with an affirmed, curt nod. “Yes. Yes I will keep you.”


There was a sliced noise, wings cutting the air as Illidan flapped his impressive tattered wings. Amused as he watches her struggle and glare at him. “Are all humans so little?” He muses more than asks, circling the bed he perched her upon. “I know little of your people, tell me girl do you breed the same?” The question has her sputtering, “w-what?!” She croaks. Illidan patiently stares, brow raised.

“W-why?!” A small scoff escapes him.

“Because I want too fuck you.”

Illidan didn’t ask anything more as he crawled over her, still a curious, cautious look about him. “You look the same...” he comments in a mutter, making use of his razer claw and slicing the tattered fabrics of her once expensive robes, “do you act them same?” A softer side of his finger brushes along the pinkish flush nipple. Reaction came before control and Lilli’s hips buck, toes flexing as he looks at her with a smug posture.

Illidan pries her legs apart, interested now in the little mounds. He palms the other, rolling his finger along the soft flesh. Again he almost hit her with his horn, his head bent forward, tongue poked out to lave at the flesh. Lilli wiggles, struggling to keep quiet. Illidan isn’t concerned with it, allowing her to fidget as he mouths at her breasts.

The hand kneading the flesh leaves her, ghosting over her soft belly, Illidan hums darkly, The greenish hell of his eyes stare at her with devious delight. “You’re wet.” Shame flares on her face as his finger ghost over the flesh, teasing her. His tongue laps again and Lilli bucks into his hand, forcing his fingers against her cunt.

“Oh!” She hisses, turning her face into her shoulder. Illidan chuckles again, pushing his fingers down to dip in her slit, gathering wetness and swirling it into a mess. “I’ve barely touched you, humans are very wanton, aren’t they?” Lilli responds by mewling, too embarrassed for anything else.

His fingers stroke, but his claws never touch her. Illidan licks her chest, sucking the flesh softly before nipping gently. His long fingers swirl and rub, her cunt gaps, clutching at nothing. “Don’t worry,” he whispers, biting her neck “I’ll fill you soon.” Lilli shouldn’t have felt as relieved as she did.

His cock was far bigger then any she had seen, far more impressive too. The way his hand curled around himself, coating his veined cock in oil was almost hypnotizing. Lilli couldn’t look away from it.

“Spread your legs.” He commands, in a tone that leaves no argument. Lilli wasn’t going to supply one either. Illidan had a broad chest, but his waist wasn’t so thick and he easily fit between the opened legs. Illidan coaxed them to rest on his hips. Lilli was surprised you how warm his leathery skin was.

Lilli expected the stretch, but wasn’t ready when it actually came. At first the blunt head of his cock slid inside without issue, the shaft of it was the more painful part. Lilli certainly let him know, huffing and pushing him away. “Hush,” he bites, voice faltering in pleasure. Inch by painful inch he invaded her, the stiff warm organ widening her more then she ever knew possible. Illidan let go a long purr go as he stilled and something inside fluttered and the pain of the stretch melted a little. Like it had given way, her walls contracted, settled and accepted his massive cock.


Lilli whines, unsettled. Illidan licks at her again, small praises escaping his lips. They fell short as he moved and the drag of his cock awoke the noises she was hiding earlier. It was a mix of relief and longing. Illidan cants his hips, picking a slow rhythm and building toward a quicker lurch of his hips.

Lilli grips at her restraints, digging her head into the pillow, a grill cry easing from her lips and Illidan grabbed a her plush thighs, squeezing them as he abused her with his cock.

The roll in her stomach unraveled and clinched, cunt fluttering around him. “Gods!” She suddenly belts, feeling a rush like wave collapse over her, drowning everything out, the moans and hisses came in bouts, she couldn’t keep her mouth shut as he fucked her through the orgasm, completing his own inside her. It felt hot and sticky once the stars faded, the fullness of his softening cock giving way for his oozing come. Illidan eases away, backing up just enough their connection severed. “Yes,” he purrs pleasantly.

“I am never letting you go.”

Chapter Text

Halduron had been a bother, pestering him about what had happened at the Nighthold, as if it was his business. Rommath wasn’t in the mood too indulge his prying and said as much, “it’s none of your concern!” He spits, arms crossed, Hal keeps pushing, “was she interested? Did you want too see her again? Did you fondle each other in the font?”

Rommath sheaths, grinding his teeth, “none of your concern as I have said. I was only indulging a silly girl with silly dreams!” He didn’t mean to bite like that, Hal looked a little scandalized.

A soft thunk made its way too all three lords ears, Rommath sees a flower on the ground, wilted. Beside was the bell of a dress and further examination reveals Asch, tears streaming down her pretty face.

Rommath freezes in shock, helplessly watching as she spins around and bolts from the spire. Lor’themar plucks the wilted lily from the floor, surrounded by her tears. “You’d best to see this fixed Grand Magister.” It wasn't a request.


Rommath hurries out of the spire, “Asch!” He shouts, watching as she stumbles through a crowd. It parts for him, he easily catches her, grabbing onto her waist as she trips again. “Let go!” It was becoming a scene, “Let me go!”

“Asch let me explain-“ she pushes at his hands, crying furiously, “I only said that to quiet Halduron! It wasn’t true!” Rommath made her turn in his embrace, making her look at him, look at the flower in his hand. Rommath brought it to life, using his magic to make it beautiful again.

“You’re lying! Let me go!” Rommath lets her wretch away this time, stumbling from the sudden lurch. Rommath lets her run away again, a sudden pain in his heart.


The trip back was long and painful, the look Lor’themar gave him was awful and Halduron ignored him. Rommath takes his place, standing silent and tall.

But he was wilting, just like the flower.


Asch never felt more stupid in her life. Rommath was the Grand Magister, of course he thought she was silly. She did have silly dreams. She was a silly, stupid girl.

Asch wipes her eyes until they were raw and puffy. Stupid, she thought again, I’m so stupid! Asch should have known that he wouldn’t be interested in entertaining the idea of courting her, or was foolish too approach him at the party the night before the last. In the hold he was so sweet, he gave her a beautiful flower.

All Asch wanted was too know how to care for it, Rommath said it would never wilt because of magic, but the morning after the petals shriveled and she thought he would help her. Asch wanted too see him, wanted to show off her beautiful dress her mother had just finished sewing. Asch thought he would like it, but he called her silly. As if he was forced to spent time with a child and indulge their silly whims.

People said he was as cold as he was handsome and Rommath was so handsome. His hair was thick and dark, soft to the touch. Asch liked the black colour, so different from the blond or reddish yellow colours most elves had. He had a clean shaven face that she liked to kiss, Rommath even kissed her. Walked her home... she thought he wanted to court.

Thoughts of a silly girl.


Asch hisses, angry. Her ears twitch, someone was coming. Asch picks up her dress, leaving before she was found.


There was a mighty thud, one that got the attention of all three of them. “High priest Lightbleeder!” Hal shouts, bowing immediately. Rommath swallows harshly. Priests, like mages had three sides. Healing and shielding.

And unspeakabl power.


The black purplish wisps were the first warning, the void swirls in his eyes were the next. The last was his direct, unblinking stare. Rommath has only ever seen void priests in training, bright purple children who can’t stop themselves from floating off the ground or controlling their voidlings.


This however was a master of shadow magic.

“Would you like too tell me what you did, Mage- or must I pry it from you?” Even his voice was clouded and fowl, as if a old god had worked its way into his very soul.

“What has he done?” Lor’themar inquires, sounding rather nervous. The high priest swipes his eyes toward his regent lord. “My only daughter hasn’t been home since this morning. Last I knew she was with him.” A very accusing finger is pointed at Rommath.

“Asch... Asch is your daughter?” Hal sounds baffled, unhelpful as always. “Yes.” He hisses back, glaring. “Last I knew she was coming here to ask you too fix the mana flower you gave her. She had told me she would be back after lunch. Asch told my wife she wished to have it with you. She should have been back hours ago.”


Rommath feels dread in his stomach, bowing quickly as the void-ridden eyes found his again. “I was most unkind- I said things I did not mean, high priest.”

“Than un-mean them, grand magister and find my daughter or you are going to be held responsible if she isn’t found.”

The high priest stayed in the citadel with Lor’themar. Thankfully Hal had offered his assistance, if only to get away from the dark magic and gut wrenching unease one gets being close to void abusers. There was guess work in magic, but dabbling in such darkness was only for those who were mad enough to handle it.


At least having a Ranger general meant she would be easy to track down. So the two went too it, Hal grumbling all the while. “I cannot believe you’ve upset the high priest. Did you know he could do that? I didn’t... I thought he was just a kind old man... not terrifying.” Rommath doesn’t respond as he yanks the brush of a bush away, scowling at the forest.

“This is foolish! How can she be out here?” Hal gives him a flat look, glaring with a thin mouth. “The people I questioned said they saw her come this way. How many white haired elves do you know- especially ones with hair as long as her?! And look-“ he points to clear dents in the long grass, “those wouldn’t be here. She came this was no follow them.” Rommath does, huffing as he pulls his robes out of the beaches it caught.

The tracks lead far into the forest, Hal notices a torn fabric piece that was from her yellow dress. Rommath stuffs it away in his coat, ignoring the smirk he was given.

“What could she want out here?” He sighs aloud, Hal shrugs grunting as he pulls branches away, “to not be found.”

They travel a little further before Hal stops, ears peeking and swiveling too a sound Rommath couldn’t hear. “Up ahead- I’ll stay here. Just go straight.”

Rommath trips on a root igrnoring the snort behind him. There wasn’t a big spot, the trees blotted out the setting sun, but Rommath could see.


Asch was on the far side of the opening, petting a bush of rough looking leaves, hair a mess and full of twigs, leaves and sap. Still it looked shiny and beautiful. Rommath clears his throat, shocking her.

Her face was puffy, completely full of tears and bloodshot eyes. Her lip turned “go!” She commands, her voice cracking, “Asch...” she snarls at him, wiping her eyes. “Asch please- your father is worried and I’m...” Rommath eases closer, holding his hand out to her.

“I’m sorry I was foolish. I shouldn’t have said such things... I didn’t mean them-“ he grinds his teeth, feeling awful. “I shouldn’t ask you too, but will you forgive me?” There was hesitation in her face, fresh pain.

But than he felt the warmth of her hand in his, “you called me silly...” she mutters, not meeting his eye. Rommath pulls her up, using his other hand to brush her cheek. “No I am. I am a silly man who has hurt a beautiful woman.” Rommath pulls the yellow tatters of her dress from his pocket, Asch gasps. Rommath bends down, holding the fabric by the rip.


It was a simple fix, the fabric threaded back together, astonishing her. Rommath knew it shouldn’t, but someone who hasn’t seen the most basic magic in action would find simple light spells amazing as a rain of fire.

“Will you come back with me? Your father is waiting in the spire.” Asch nods, taking his arm, “and... accompany me tomorrow- I would like to make it up too you.”

“I would like that.”

Chapter Text

Things got better, much better than they had ever been. Asch had recovered from the horrible incident involving the Lich King and his death knight while Lor’themar nurtured the path.

It was toward the end of the festival, with only two days left. Elves were paired up and married off, maybe pregnant but definitely happy.

Lor’themar was smart in his work, his fingers gentle as he swiped the red paint across her belly. Asch giggles, claiming he was tickling her. Lor’themar has tired time and again to get his wife pregnant, she wanted a baby even when she was promised to Kael. A little golden haired boy, and still. The idea never changed. Except the name and hair he would have.

“Who gave you this hedge-witch remedy?” She asks in a pleasant voice, running fingers through his hair. The ends of the silver finery were coated in red paint, noticeable and silly. Lor’themar chuckles around the pipe in his mouth, pulling it free to push smoke up in the air.

“Why the grand hedge-witch himself,” Lor’themar jokes, Asch laughed shaking her head. Rommath though the expense of the joke was very helpful when Lor’themar came about his concern. While Hal was trying not to get anyone pregnant Lor’themar was a little desperate.

Rommath coaxed him into his study and explained that their equal stress and duty made it hard to conceive, especially after the trama they faced as well as the moon thistle tea Rommath gave Asch so she wouldn’t end up pregnant by the wrong man.

Moon thistle worked as a precaution, preventing any chance of a unwanted conception. Rommath mentioned it could still be working in her system and preventing Lor’themar’s own seed from taking. So instead of usual methods he gave Lor’themar herbal paint and a picture to trace from.

His fingers were red to the knuckle, but it would dry. It was natural and it wouldn’t hurt anything. Asch pokes at his already dried work, feeling the bumps of the clotted paint, “what does this do?” Lor’themar paid attention when Rommath explains the use and result, but was confused by it.

Even still, he tired to explain. “It’s suppose to trigger ovulation, trick your womb- I think... Rommath wasn’t very clear.” Lor’themar puffs around his pipe, billowing grey clouds in his confusion. Asch giggles, making intrigued noises. “‘Trick my womb’ how silly... in any case I will thank him for helping” there was a knock at their door, which annoyed Lor’themar greatly. It was the creation festival they were not to be disturbed. “Go on,” his wife prompts, covering her naked chest, careful not to smudge his still wet work. Lor’themar snarls gently, rubbing the excess paint into the palm of his hand before getting up.


“The world best be ending!” He snapped as he swung open the door. The messenger had his eyes downcast, he was nervous and fidgety. “What?!” Lor’themar hisses, clutching the door. “It’s... it’s the warchief my lord regent- she’s here!” World ending indeed. Lor’themar heard his wife get up, well. Now he suppose he had to give Sylvanas an audience.

Lor’themar grumbles a thank you, snapping the heavy wooden door shut. “What could she want?!” He belts, yanking his discarded shirt from the floor. Asch shrugs under the lump of her dress, pulling it over her head. It would’ve almost hid the paint if not for the sheer fabric. Asch didn't seem to care about hiding it. “Would you like help getting the paint from your hair?” Lor’themar picks a chunk of silver hair up, looking st the matted ends coated with paint. “No,” he decides with a soft smile, “there is no need too look ceremony. It’s the creation festival after all.” Sylvanas is lucky he decided to see her, he didn’t have too.

All business including duties of regent lord were halted at the beginning of the festival, besides his duty too see the festival smoothly, Lor’themar had no other responsibilities other than to pleasure his wife. The capital was affectively paused. Sex only everyone’s aspiration.

“Come come,” he said, watching Asch barely fix her hair with her fingers. “The warchief awaits.”

If Sylvanas found their state of dress funny she did not show it, like she did not show much of anything anymore. She stood there, a cocked brow, sizing up their appearances but did not comment. Hal was much the same, barely dressed and bored. Rommath looked the picture of presentable, but for a few hairs out of place. So he was busy this year too. Lor’themar would have to remember to pry.

“A pleasure as always,” He tells her, curtly nodding, “What is so important you came yourself?” Sylvanas never left Undercity, she sent her little errand ghouls to do her work rather than see it completed herself. “A matter of heart,” She says vaguely, tilting her head as if her own words intrigued her.

“Oh?” Is all Lor’themar says in response, waiting for her to continue. Slyvanas sways her gaze to the regent lady, blinking dull red eyes at her, “I know that paint,” She says, “it works.” Asch peers down, than smiles at her, “glad to hear that, warchief.”

“You won’t be too hear this,” Sylvanas states darkly, “I heard what happened in Icecrown,” she explains, hardly sitting on the topic, not offering condolences of any kind. “I have something you want.” A lazy gesture and from far behind the sound of clicking bones could be heard. Lor’themar didn’t know what was happening until it did, all at once.

Koltira Deathweaver was dropped in a bloodied heap at his feet, Asch had gasped and backed away, stumbling until Rommath came to her aid, hushing her and hiding her in his shoulder. Lor’themar turns in a rage, “take her away from here!” He commands Rommath.

“Do not!” Sylvanas hisses back, “she decides his fate.” Lor’themar was furious. “How dare you!” He snarls, “if you knew what was done you wouldn’t ask her to stay!” Sylvanas snaps back, equally angered “I know better than anyone what has been done. It is no ones decision but her own!” Lor’themar was far too angry to really hear her words, “you bring him here like he is some gift we must thank you for- out! Get him out!” Sylvanas fixes herself, standing tall once more. The warchief nods to her company and they pull the undead elf from the floor and drag him away.

Lor’themar looks back to see his wife crying against the grand magister, clutching his robes with her fists and shaking. Hal had flanked behind her, worried. A gentle hand pressed to her back for comfort. “Slyvanas explain!” He had no care for titles, no care for formality.

“I heard all that transpired. What difficulties the house of Theron have had since returning. I came to possess Deathweaver only days passed.” She was rather civil in her explanation, using a calmer voice than before. “It was not my justice to exact, so I brought him here. For you to decide his fate. Lor’themar it is a gift,” her voice is darkened “a gift of vengeance.”

“I don’t want it!” His wife surprises, still holding onto Rommath, “I don’t want him here! I don’t want justice! I want him gone!” Sylvanas cocks a brow, “fine,” she sounds rather displeased, “I’ll have him executed in the morning then.” A slow pass of dread before Asch spoke again. “W-what?! No! Don’t do that!” Lor’themar blinks in disbelief, turning on his heel to look at her. “Asch- what? You want him to live? After what he has done?”

Timidly she kneads the fabric of Rommath robes before releasing him and whipping her eyes, “no of course not,” she almost say too lightly, “he’s done nothing, it was Arthas, he had no choice but to listen.” Lor’themar is beyond struck by confusion,”but he hurt you!” Lor’themar knew better than to say the words. Asch wrings her hands, “That doesn’t mean I wish him dead-“ “my lady! My lady-“ a sick and twisted voice interjects, somehow Koltira freed himself, Sylvanas and Lor’themar draw their weapons.

“Wait!” Asch cries, the arrow the warchief fires is aimed for his head, but in her shock it flies over the Koltira’s head, “my lady I’m so sorry!” He cries, face wrought with stress and pain, “my actions were not my own- but it is no excuse for what I’ve done I beg you for forgiveness even though I don’t deserve it!” Lor’themar pulls Asch behind him, sword pointed at his direction, “silence!” His voice echoes through the spire.

There was still stumbling in her steps as she approached, Lor’themar turned slightly so she could cling to him. Asch took the whole of his arm and pressed her lips to his shoulder, staring at Koltira. “I don’t want your life.” She mutters loud enough so they can all hear, “do you have a place in this world? Where would you go? If I freed you?” Lor’themar frowns, staring at wife with his still good eye.

“I... I don’t- I was a defender here...” Lor’themar was sick of his voice, lip pulled away from his teeth in a snarl. “I want... I want the serve the Horde my lady- in the Ebon blade.” A pass of silence before he was met again by the murmurs of his wife. “Go then- say nothing and go.” Koltira looks up at her with large eyes, mouth slack.

The death knight says noting, stands and turns leaving before anyone can try to stop him.

“I want to leave now,” Asch tells him, courage wasted. Sylvanas hisses, annoyed “I find your rapist and you let him free?!” If Asch was hurt by the word she did not show it. “My... rapist was the Lich King. Not him. Thank you Warchief for coming here I am grateful.” Lor’themar feels her tug, curtly he nods before leaving with his wife.


In their rooms the pain was a new. Lor’themar picks his wife up, taking her to their bed and lets her cry. He stares at the paint in the little clay bowl, now dry.

 

Chapter Text

Rommath more and more found himself interested in just how many ways Asch could do her hair. The usually style she wore it in was long and without kinks, other times she piled it all atop her head in a very detailed braid, a fishtail, a bun and even pigtails.

Today she had it in a high pony tail, Rommath indulged in watching her move, watching it bob along with the happy bounces. Rommath especially loved when she turned to look at him and it whipped wildly.

To make up for his terrible behaviour Rommath asked to take her on a walk and then dinner. Of course she agreed and here they were, Rommath gladly being tugged along and Asch holding his hand like a life line. Rommath felt peace in his heart as she took them to a hill by a flowing river, etching as she undid her hair and sat on the grass. “Come come!” She asked, patting the spot next to her. Rommath went down, once again pulled into her warmth.

Asch had gotten her arms around his middle, nestling into his side with a great sigh. Her eyes flutters shut as the sun coated her in a beautiful light. Rommath holds her close, unbothered by everything.


Rommath began to wonder why he thought he’d never have this, why he sealed himself away from it. Courting was important, especially for him because of his blood line- Asch’s as well. Bloodelves commited to this way of life since the beginning, even as their time as highvelves. Courting was meant to express interest and formally stake a claim upon the one you wished to share a mate bond with.

Some chose to marry before the fact, but it was mere ceremony to the real commitment. That happened in private, unless the family was influential enough that it was required to be witnessed. One discrete elf standing in the shadows awaiting the bite, consummation and conception. Rommath heard of far more degrading things, at least now it was a professional rather then guests and perverted men.


Rommath inhaled, she smelt so nice, like honeycombs. They were suppose to be in the way to dinner but Rommath couldn’t bring himself to move from the position. Elves walked passed them on the boulevards, looking over with a choice few bewildered expressions. Rommath was never one to just sit in grass, but now he couldn’t imagine not doing it.


Rommath allowed them too sit there until it was absolutely too late. “Our reservations are waiting,” he whispers, not wishing to break the spell. Asch sighs, flexing against him and tiredly humming. “Okay...”

Walking hand and hand, locked fingers swaying between them Rommath lead her to the restaurant.

For such a little thing she ate very largely. His lady liked red meat bloody and just cooked enough to be edible. Though when She allowed him a bite Rommath found it wasn’t as disgusting as he thought, neither bloody or stiff to chew. “My uncle was a Ranger, he loved cooking meat on an open fire- not very good at making it however...” her giggle was intoxicating and Rommath found himself grinning at her happiness.

“I came to have a taste for it- you must think it distasteful...” it was a little, however Rommath didn’t. “No, endearing. I rather like mine near charred.” This had her laughing delightfully again, but the truth. Asch ate it elegantly, she cut the pieces in small stripes, earring it without fuss.

Once or twice more she allowed him to have a few bites, Rommath picked things of his plate and offered it to her. It was so sickeningly sweet that Rommath didn’t think it was happening too him, but reviled in the awestruck looks they received.

Rommath ordered a red wine, one of his favourites, Asch had never had it, but commented on its rich bitter taste. “Is there chocolate?” Rommath nods around his glass, sipping it slowly. “Ah! I love chocolate!” Rommath chuckles, “maybe you’d like the cake they have here. Full of chocolate layers.” There was a twinkle in her eye and Rommath hailed a waiter to get it.


Now, Rommath had seen many people intimately sharing food, but he also never imagined he would be part of it. The cold outer shell he portrayed came away when she pulled her chair closer and offered him the first bite.

Asch liked chocolate so much she made sure nothing but the syrup was left, “I should get you home.” Rommath knew her father would never like him, but he would endeavour to fix that. It was well past sunset as they walked under the lamp light. Chatting aimlessly until they came to her gates. Rommath stopped them, lifting her hands to hiss the flesh. The blush on her cheeks was well worth the glare he got from the open window of her house.

“Thank you so much for dinner,” she mutters shyly, Rommath shakes his head, “it was my pleasure... I would like to ask you to accompany me next week to a gala in the spire.” Asch gasps, clutching his hands harder, “I would love too!” Rommath willed himself to ignore the watching figure of her father in the window as he closed the gap, giving her a proper kiss.

Her lips were soft, yielding against his as she melted toward him. Chest pressed to his as he cradled her face. It was romantic, but chaste. Rommath steps away, bowing. “Until then my lady.”

There was a girlish air to her sigh as Asch shut her front door, leaning into it. “I take that it went well?” Her fathers voice came from the stairs, Asch glances up, smiling at him foolishly. “He wants to take me to the royal gala ada!” She allowed her herself to squeal and erupt into giggling.

Chapter Text

There was a terrible crack, Asch yells as she brings her staffs bulky head into the skull of an eredar demon. Green blood splatters all over her face.


“Agh-!” She spits, swiping it out of her face, arcing her staff to slam into the ground. The heavy thing resounds off the cave wall, echoing madly. Asch inspects the area before moving toward the place she hid Edan.

“Hello baby!” Edan giggles, reaching for her, “let’s go see if we can find daddy- can you say daddy?” Edan babbles nonsense but Asch still praises him. Illidan’s garrison was much the same, another demon pack dispatched. Asch walked over the bodies until she got to him.

“You shouldn’t let him see such things,” he comments, ripping the head of the last demon in his hands, Asch snorts “what does he see? He can’t understand what he sees- but he sees daddy- don’t you?!” Edan squeals again, excited. Illidan chuckles, cleaning his hands. “Bah!” He paws for his father. “Come here little one,” Asch gladly passes him to Illidan. “He’s getting very big,” Illidan says, playing with his chubby arm.

“Khadgar said he might grow quicker then average.” Elves in general aged different from humans. Edan would mature in half the time and be considered just as old as a human in their peak years. Illidan nuzzles Edan, purring when his baby mimics the motion.

Illidan regards his wife, frowning in thought before speaking, “there’s blood all over your face.” Asch goes crosseyed trying to look, Illidan snorts, grabbing a wet cloth and rubbing it off. “And whatever’s on your staff.” Illidan doesn’t touch, curling his nose at the bits of flesh and dried blood. Asch giggles, “what did you get here?”

Illidan looks over the heap his demon hunters where making to burn, “eredar mostly. Some demons. Yours?” Asch leans on her staff, digging it into the black dirt, “demons, some imps. Mostly demons and fel guards.”

“Damen!” Illidan jolts, confused. Asch stares, blinking. Edan giggles, “damen!” He says, again.

Illidan looks down, mouth open. Asch laughs suddenly, snorting loudly. “He did not just... Asch!” Illidan glares, lips tight. “Oh-“ she coos, “I didn’t teach him!” Still she encourages him, kissing his cheeks, “I wanted his first word to be daddy.”

“A-da!” Asch gasps, whining happily “oh sweetie good! Say demon, de-mon!”

Edan bounces, “de-mon!” Asch claps excitedly, “my good boy!” “Ada!” Edan obviously wants Illidan attention, still his father scowls. “Oh Illidan be happy- his first word!” Illidan grunts, “It was demon. He needs off this planet- I need off this planet!” Asch coaxes Edan from him, cuddling their happy baby, “we do- do we have time to leave? We should look for a home in Darnassaus.” Illidan ponders for a moment, “I will make time. No doubt Tyrande will want to help- and Malfurion... insufferable.” Asch watches him run a hand over his face, making his blind go askew, she fixes it into place before speaking.

“I thought you were friends with them now?” Illidan scoffs, “Mal maybe. Tyrande doesn’t trust me. Her friendship with me is so she has an excuse to watch me.” From the moment she spoke words of peace between them he knew exactly what she wanted. She still believes him evil, she could not hide it when she looked at him. The tight shoulders and guarded face.


“Must it be Darnassaus?” He says with a air of pain, Asch pouts for him, teasing. “How often do you believe we’d be there? Since the war in northern I have hardly been home. Do you believe we’d ever have peace long enough to settle?” Illidan squints, “hm. I suppose you’re right. Fine fine,” he waves, “tomorrow we will go look.”

 

Chapter Text

When he returned Hal was smirking openly, brow cocked as if he was going to say, I told you so.

But to Rommath’s shock he said this instead, “I’m sorry for prying before. I take it all is well?” Rommath couldn’t remember the last time Hal had started a conversation without being stupid, this was actually quite grown up of him.

“Yes, it is.” Rommath decides too answer since Hal, begrudgingly was great help in finding her the other night. Hal nods once, still looking pleased, while Lor’themar rolls his eyes. “We’ll be seeing her again yes?” The regent lord was only ever concerned, hardly sought out gossip, it was that main reason why Rommath bothered to respond at all.

“You will be, at the Gala tomorrow night.” Lor’themar hums, “ahh... wonderful are you bringing your courtship public?” The one thing Rommath hated was that. When couples decide to court they need to be seen together at an event. It was suppose to display interest and unavailability, but recently it turned into a spectacle to gossip about. Rommath was an important man, Asch was the daughter of the high priest, they would be the most interesting thing at that gala.

Unless something absurd happened.


“Are you bringing anyone?” Rommath inquires, Lor’themar smiles softly, shaking his head. Well. That would be absurd. Too absurd to save Rommath. “Afraid not. A host ha no time for dates.” Lor’themar liked to personally have his hand in every event, if only to excuse himself from finding a lady companion to go with. Hal rolls his eyes, nudging the regent lord “you have always been boring.”

Lor’themar throws him a look of mixed shock and loathing, “me? The grand magister is far worse then I- apologies Rommath.” Rommath snorts lowly, in good humour. “Ah-ah-ah he had a date! He’ll be the talk of the party. You however have gotten old and boring.” Lor’themar looks scandalized while Hal bursts out in laughter.

“Cruel beyond measure. I should have you fired for that.” This only makes the ranger laugh more.


The night of the gala Rommath decided upon better robes then his usual. He elected to keep his hair down in a very loose tail, the leather held taught at the bottom, while he cut his beard into a fine and soft point. The runes covering his neck stood out with the ones along his arms, but Rommath easily hid them under the long jacket he wore.

Asch did not say which colour she was going to wear tonight so Rommath opted for dark colours. Everything was mostly black, with hints of grey as an off colour.


The walk was far too long both ways and Rommath didn’t think she would like dirtyig the bottom of her dress, so instead he commissioned a carriage carried by two black hawk striders to get her. Rommath held the single rose in his hand, twirling it between his fingers. The groves where the florist cut the throne off felt bumpy as it spun.

The carriage rolled in front of her gates and stopped so Rommath could get out. Confidently he walks out, knocking once because he knew someone had seen him approach.

The high priests beautiful wife answered the door, appearing very happy and well dressed, “grand magister, lovely too see you- come in!” Her own dress swayed and caught at his legs, Rommath waits a moment before moving. “Hello mistress Lightbleeder. You are as beautiful as they say.” She giggles, fluffing her hair. “And you are as kind as I remember.” Rommath frowns before realizing, “oh yes. At the church.” He had met the high priests wife the day after the attacks on Silvermoon. She was there caring for he wounded and looking after children.

Rommath had spent a good amount of time there, making sure his mages were safe, she was caring for them and they spoke for a good while.

“Come this way, Asch should be down in a moment. I must say I was shocked to hear my daughter would be going with you tonight.” Rommath knew it was odd, he usually did not bother to go to these at all, much less with a woman. “She’s very excited you should have heard her, giggling about dancing with you.” Her mother looks smitten herself with the idea, Rommath smiles gently.

“As am I. Your daughter has been very sweet too me, even when I didn’t deserve it.” A catch in her lips, “Ah yes, I heard about that little mishap. Her father was boiling. I am happy you’ve fixed it now at least.” So was Rommath.


“Mommy! Where did you put my heels?” Rommath turns to the stairs, where Asch was scampering down. A moment of shock pauses her movements before a great blush dusts her cheeks, “by the door my love.” Her mother is laughing and Rommath almost does too. Asch looked absolutely distraught with him being there.

“Hello Asch, you look very beautiful.” Rommath bows deeply, the dress she wore- he should have guessed, was a bloody red incrusted with black opals. It had a heart shaped bodice, one that only covered her chest. The bare cream of her shoulders were covered in a pink tint. The bell of her dress puffed just enough to give her fairy like movements, even if they were jerky with embarrassment.

He could barely see her artfully coloured toes peaking from the bottom of her dress, also blood red.

“Thank you Rommath...” she mutters, seeking her shoes with a sheepish look. Her mother laughs again, “we spent hours finding the right dress, that’s your colour isn’t it Grand magister?” Rommath almost purrs, “why yes, it is. I must say it looks better on her.” Asch’s mother claps excitedly, “give him a spin darling!” Asch went ridged, the light pink turning to a deep red, Rommath watches her twirl, enamoured by way the dress lifted off the ground.


“Ah! We best not make you late! Reylon! Your daughter is leaving come say goodbye!” Asch fixes her shoe on and grinds it into the carpet to secure it to her foot before peeking up. Rommath saunters toward her, smiling warmly. From the top of the stairs the high priest shuffles down, “Ah my little star, you look beautiful.” Rommath doesn’t touch her as he goes to stand next to her, Asch sighs happily, “Thank you daddy.” She pecks his cheek.


Her father turns to Rommath, scowling lightly “have her back before too late.” Her mother coos, grabbing her husband, “keep her grand magister he’s only teasing.” Rommath smiles politely, “I won’t keep her too long, high priest.”

“Best not.”

With that Rommath escorts her out to the carriage, to which she gasps at, “oh my it’s beautiful,” Rommath allows her inside first, seating himself across from her. “Have you ever been to a gala?” Asch shakes her head, “no I’m very excited!” He chuckles, “your mother told me as much.” This brings colour back to her face, “I’m very excited as well.” This makes her uncurl a little, smiling sheepishly again.

“However,” he comments, eyes darkening “we may be bothered tonight and you aren’t required to speak to anyone you don’t wish too.” Asch beams, reaching over to take his hand and squeeze it, “you’ll be there to save me I’m sure.” Rommmath would be.

Rommath escorted her through the great doors, watching in amusement as she looked all around her at the decorations and awing at the elves dancing. “Ah, Asch! Rommath!” Lor’themar caught them, “our table is in the back- just over there.” Every time they held a gala, Lor’themar would get a table in the furthest place so they wouldn’t be bothered by passing nobles. “Dinner should be served in twenty minutes. We’ll meet you there.” Rommath takes her there by going completely around the busy areas. Asch hold sinto his arm tightly, “I must confess I’ve never been in a place with so many people before.” Rommath pulls her closer, “it can be overwhelming but I’ll endeavour too make you feel better.” At this her face gets colour back, having been so pale.


Rommath finds Hal with Liadrin, laughing over something before noticing either of them, “Ah, hello you two. Come sit.” Rommath pulls her chair, intentionally sitting her between him and Lor’themar when he arrives. Al would just pick her apart with questions. He still would, but at lest they would have to pass over Rommath before getting to her.

“Ravishing my lady, truly. That’s just Rommath’s colour. Does this mean you’re publicly courting now?” Asch looks at Rommath, bitting her lip neverously, as if she didn’t know.

“Yes, we are.” She heaves a quiet sigh, Rommath thought it was sweet of her to be worried, though he has shown doubt before. “What a way to show it!”


Their dinner begun with a salad and than a stake along with potato’s. Lor’themar arrived halfway through with wine and less intrusive conversation. It started out by him asking about her father, how he was and if the church needed anything from the regent lord. Slowly the conversation went to her mother, sisters and finally Rommath. The grand magister knew it would, but found that since it was Lor’themar asking that it was right to answer.

“Have you been courted before?” Asch shook her head, then hesitated “he may have thought so... nothing came of it.” Rommath sought her hand from under the table and laced his fingers around hers. “This is all very new for you than I suppose,” at this she nods, smiling. “Best wishes too you both then.”


Rommath curtly nods in thanks, eyeing around him. Despite having a table in the far back people still watch them. “Asch would you like to dance? I think I’ve made you wait long enough.” She beams, “oh yes! I would love too!”


Ash was clearly nervous, the way she clung too him as they stepped away form the table, how her face was tighter as he looked around, “they’re staring.” She mutters, Rommath casts a glare over her head, watching as the eyes fart away immediately when they catch his. “Yes. They won’t cease.” Even by himself Rommath was and interest too people, if not for his skill but his oddity. Compared to his companions he was a dark blot among fine gold and silver. Asch was a white hair beauty, they were opposites completely.


Except she wore his colours, chose his colours. Chose him. Rommath almost threw that away. Thinking back on it he feels like a fool.

“Do you have many of these?” Asch jerks gin from thought, she’s eyeing his neck, more specifically the red runes etched into his skin. “Yes I do, on my arms, back and legs.” Asch gasps in amazement as they come to stop in a good spot.


“How did you get them?” Rommath bows as custom before a dance and Asch curtseys, taking his hand back. They shuffle into position as the soft music starts. “I carved them myself.” She makes a pained, sick look “did it hurt?” His heart warms at her concern, “no, my magic made them. It makes it easier to channel spells this way.” Far easier when the raw magic gathers in the tattooed shapes.

“Was it an accident? Like how other mages get white hair?” Rommath makes a vague noise, dipping her along to the song, “at first it was because of my raw channeled magic, but I realized it was just a trade off in order to hone my abilities.” Khadger’s hair turned white because of his use of arcane magic, it slowly drained the colour from his rich brown head, while Rommath gained conduits that blaze alive at use.

“Oh, does that mean you’ll still get them?” Rommath shakes his head, spinning her outward before pulling her back in, “I was younger, foolish. I shouldn’t have so many as I do now. I learnt later in my studies that I could easily prevent it if I capped my powers. But I allowed the raw magic too stem over.” In truth he did not care. It was unique and even now he didn’t rein in his raw magic, but by now it had finished its work on his body and flowed freely between the red runes.

“I like them very much,” She mutters, bashfully looking away. Rommath purrs softly, holding her closer. “Do you?” He teases, Rommath wasn't expecting an anewer but was delighted when he got one. “I’ve never seen anything like it before they are very beautiful.” Fire magic was beautiful, it only made sense it would do something like this.

“No one has ever called them beautiful before,” he knew they were, looking at them brought about pride. Other mages marvelled, calmed them interesting. But never beautiful. Rommath food her again, looking over the slope of her chest too look into her fel green eyes, a moment of sheer affection ruin washes over him as she blushes terribly up at him.

“Do you have any markings?” Asch ponders, seating with him lazily. They had given up partially on following the groups dance in favour of using this time to talk. “Well. None like yours but-“ His lifts the hand of his shoulder toward his face, wrist arced toward his eyes. A nasty looking patch of skin looks chafed badly.

Rommath hisses through his teeth, “I was trying to teach myself how to use light magic without my father. I burnt myself and came away with this.” It was no larger than a gold coin. “Do you know very much then?” Asch giggles, turning in his embrace and swaying to the beat of the music, “I do I’m much better. I could have healed it but I choose to keep it.” Rommath raises a beat brow, “whatever for?”

She laughs, leaning into him not caring to actually dance well anymore, “same as you I suspect, a reminder.” Rommath jerks lightly in surprise, clever little elf.


They danced for a while, ignoring most people around them. The moon hung high and Rommath decided it was time to take her home.


“It was wonderful, thank you so much Rommath!” Asch was nestled into his shoulder. By now she dropped her hair and Rommath liked the way it looked now rather then before. He at some point lost his leather tie and Asch giggled and said he looked handsome with his hair down. Rommath had another hair tie, but decided not to put his hair up.

“Oh- what’s that?” Rommath peaks down at the floor, noticing red petals, “oh dear...” it was the rose, now ruined. “Was that for me? Oh Rommath...” still she picked the ruined stem up, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize I had dropped it.” Asch pouts, “it’s alright- I still have the mage flower you gave me...” she huffs lightly, “I don’t have the right magic to to keep it alive for long.”


Asch drops the stem, resting back into him, “I like it much better anyway.”

 

Her father did not like Rommath was going into her chambers, but her mother pulled him away, letting them go on their way.


Rommath looked around and it was mostly what he expected, soft shell colours and neatness. Asch brought the flower to him. “Ah, I must find a better way to keep this.” Stillhis hands come up around it and come to life with arcane magic. He wasn’t as proficient with it, but he knew how to rejuvenate a simple flower. “I don’t mind this- it gives me an excuse too see you for not reason.” Rommath laughs gently, “I suppose it does.”


The flower fills with life and puffs out pollen, the colours freshen to its lively blue hues and pinks. Asch pulls it to her nose, sighing happily, “Thank you Rommath.”

“You’re very welcome.”


Asch puts the flower back into her window, caressing the petals before turning with a nervous bite of her lip.

“It’s very late I should-“ he pauses, trailing off. “Yes I- yes...” Asch it seems doesn’t know what to say either. Her fingers are pressed into the fine wood desk behind her, Rommath moves inches closer, not really sure of his plan.


Asch looks up with her fel green eyes, they were innocent and beautiful. Rommath cups her jaw, without reallizing it Asch had gotten on her tip-toes, reaching for his mouth with her own.


The kiss was heated, quick and consuming. Rommath pulled her by the waist against him, making her gasp and open her mouth. His tongue invaded her mouth, the back of his mind he can hear the subtle voice say; she tastes like honey. It makes him groan hotly.

Asch bends to his will, arcing up too meet him, there’s a hand tangled in her hair, gently pulling her head back. His other hand is warm against her waist, flexing and twitching. Asch whimpering again this lips, pulling at his jacket. Rommath emits a soft growl at her eager fingers, pushing her backward with his chest. Asch stumbles back against the desk, almost losing her heels.

The hand in her hair leaves and his lips let hers go, a twinkle in his eye is the only hint she revived before the meat or his palms clutch onto the plush of her thighs. Asch almost swueaks too loud as he hauls her up into her desk, yanking her dress far enough up her legs to expose the creamy colour.


Rommath almost goes back to kissing her before his fingers catch something sarin and soft. He peers down, thumb toying with it before realizing what it was. A bloody red satin leg band. Rommath pulls at one of the bows, letting it loose from her leg.


He has a good enough grip not to let it fall from his fingers. Pulling it up he eyes Asch curiously. Who can’t meet his gaze and blushes horribly. “Were you hoping I’d find it?” Asch rubs her fingers into his jacket, making a nervous sound, “maybe...” she mutters. Rommath purrs immediately upon her answer, expecting she’d say something like that.


“How thoughtful of you. Red really is your colour.” Rommath teases, pocketing the lace before returning to savage her mouth with his own.

The grip on her legs has Asch dizzy, his body was so close and all she can do is open her mouth to his preying tongue. Rommath was leaning heavily into her, seeking to consume her, asc fats his jacket, dragging it down his shoulders. He growls throatly, pulling her almost off the desk altogether, the dress bunches between them as Rommath endeavours to erase any space between them. Asch can feel his entire body slot against hers, his hips press into her pelvis.

The bulge between his stiff legs pressing absently agasint her middle. Asch shutters, wiggling by accident. It create friction even he hisses at. The dark swirl of lust ghosts in his half lidded eyes. Her face was so hot she thought she was going to catch fire. But that was more then likely the last thing she needs to worry about with a fire mage between her legs.


Rommath breaks away from her lips to breath, he pants against her face, forehead pressing into hers. Asch shakes, watching how his hair curtains around her head, hiding everything else but him.

“Rommath,” She gasps, breathlessly. Her stomach feels as fuzzy as her brain does. Asch bucks into his hips, making Rommath bare his gritted teeth, hiss out a harsh breath that almost looked like smoke from a dragons maw. His eyes snap open and are full of blazing fel fire. Asch yelps when his hips jerk back, instead of her puffy red lips he assaults her neck, kissing it with utter passion. Asch claws at his forearms, gasping uselessly.

The friction they create makes her cunt throb, clinch and leak. Rommath grunts, swirling his broad hips. Asch bites her lips, hiding her cheek into her bare shoulder. Rommath takes the opportunity to lave at her ear. Asch’s hands twitch’s again this chest, moaning a long trill at the sheer pleasure his teeth make nibbling the out side of her sensitive ear.


His hips continue the onslaught, moving his mouth where it pleases him. Asch feel her stomach tighten, coil like a snake. Asch gasps again, whining out his name. Rommath doubles his efforts, sucking on the column of her throat, sucking a delicious mark.

It was beautiful to witness, the hopeless doe eyes, confusion as she came. How her head fell back, the way her fingers stabbed into his arms. Rommath months at her tendons, wetting her neck as she pants through her nose. Rommath slows his hips, listening to her catch her breath before kissing her fiercely once more before making space between them again.


“That... that was- that... was.” She babbles, Rommath chuckles, a gravelly sound that resonates in her bones. “Good?” “Yeah... yeah g-good” her voice breaks, blinking aimlessly. Chest heaving.

Rommath helps her off the desk, fixing her dress while Asch tries to fix the mess he made of her hair. Asch attempts to smooth the wrinkles her hands made in his suit before letting him shake the jacket out. His brushes his fingers though his hair before smiling softly.


Her parents somehow didn't suspect a thing. Her father commented on the fact it took a while longer then he thought, but bought the excuse that it was arcane magic rather than fire. And Rommath was no good at arcane magic.


He almost laughed and blew it.


“I hope too see you soon again my lady.” He chastely bows, kissing her hand. Asch thanks him appropriately. Rommath’s eyes widen, the blotch on her neck was clearly visible. He coughs, scratching the place on his neck to try and hint to her. Asch frowns but then gets the same expression on her face as he did.

“Oh um. Goodnight Rommath!” She says too quickly and too flustered. “Goodnight Asch.” As he turns the door is promptly shut and from the other side he can hear her heels banging against the wood stairs.

 

Rommath laughs loudly as he returns to the carriage, thumbing the leg band in his pocket.