For The Alli/Horde/ance

BY : Kirsh
Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft
Dragon prints: 819
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money from this story.

"Mass battle resurrection? That's not fair."

Anduin glanced over his shoulder at the warrior dressed in deep black plate armor with accents of red. He offered the man a delighted smile and only barely managed to hold back his laugh. "It wasn't a mass battle resurrection. It was just a healing spell."

"Not from where I'm standing. Anyway, did you see Greymane get one-shot by that monk's crackling jade lightning? Or was it a shaman's lightning bolt? Either way, that's kind of worrisome. He's supposed to be your protector and he gets taken out by crackling jade lightning. A chaos bolt, now that I'd understand, because that hurts, but that?" The warrior shook his head. "Please."

"If you'd care to notice, Sylvanas and the Horde only killed those that got close to the walls."

"I did notice, and I don't want to get any closer. Did you see what she did? Did you hear her? She is a Badass. Capital B."

Anduin did laugh now and struggled to get himself under control. "Honestly, Wrathion, did you expect her to do any less? Neither of us want this, but our hands are tied on the matter. We don't have much of a choice, not if we want to survive this."

Dark armored hands reached up to pull off an equally dark helmet. Soft black hair with a touch of a wave tumbled out to frame a masculine, strong-jawed, dark-skinned face. Wrathion's time away had done nothing to diminish him; rather, it seemed to have strengthened him, giving him a confidence not born of arrogance but from ability. Gone were the fine silks and satins and voluminous clothes, replaced by armor and weaponry. Gone was the hint of mischief in those crimson eyes, replaced by a determined glimmer and confidence to do better than before. He had changed, and Anduin rather enjoyed the changes, even if he was still pissed at Wrathion for disappearing in the first place without a word.

Wrathion's crimson eyes flicked over the battle raging just beyond their position. "I'm not sure how much of this is surviving and how much is just about satisfying bloodlust."

Anduin turned his attention back to the carnage. Dead from both sides littered the ground before the gates of Lordaeron, or Undercity, as the Horde had renamed it and called by everyone for the last decade. Of the Horde, Anduin saw no sign, and guessed Sylvanas must have accomplished her goal and called a retreat. She had surrendered her capital to him in exchange for him staying out of Silvermoon, and Anduin had readily agreed to that, since it would get Greymane off his back and the Ghostlands and everything north of there hadn't belonged to the Alliance since the beginning. It meant they were still neighbors, but each side was now more prone to throw bombs rather than toilet paper.

"The most we can do," Anduin replied softly, "is make sure the casualties are at a minimum. I don't like this any more than you or everyone else who thinks this new war is stupid, but I'm a king now, and I can't just let things go unanswered."

Wrathion scrubbed his fingers through his hair. "Sure you can. You've got how many friends on the other side of that line? Baine, Sylvanas, about an army's worth of adventurers? All of whom have friends on our side, so I don't think we have to worry about things going unanswered."

"Just things being answered tit for tat, huh?"

"Precisely. And between you and me, I'm more afraid of the adventurers than I am you and the Warchief. Combined."

Anduin barked out a short laugh. "Seriously?"

"Like a plague." Wrathion responded. He stepped up beside Anduin and lifted a hand to shield his eyes from the sunlight that glared down upon them. The crimson orbs swept up and down the field, studying with the intensity Anduin was so familiar with. "I mean, did you see what she did?"

"I did."

"And that didn't scare you? Even in the slightest bit?"

Anduin's smile wasn't quite as mirthful as before. "I led my people to war, Wrathion. I brought them here to risk their lives and die on my orders. That's terrifying enough." His head canted to one side. "But that scream. 'For the Horde'. That was impressive."

"Your voice doesn't have that creepy reverberation to it, so of course you'd think that was impressive." Wrathion said.


Wrathion threw back his head and laughed hard and long. "That's rich, Anduin! Coming from you, that's almost a compliment!"

Anduin smirked and this time it reached his blue eyes, warming them in a way that made Wrathion's body shiver in response. Anduin focused on the black dragon and lifted his shoulders in a shrug. "I can't hate her. I should, according to Greymane, but I don't. She did what she had to do, just as my father did what he had to do. But when I took the responsibility of the crown, I realized that the best decision isn't always the kindest or the easiest, and people will die because of me. Because of what I decide. She's always known this, and even if she lost her way for a little while, something happened that changed her. Something made her... more."

Wrathion stepped closer to Anduin, such that their armored shoulders were almost touching. Wrathion pressed a kiss to Anduin's sweat- and dirt- and blood-stained cheek. Anduin turned his head and caught Wrathion's mouth with his own. It was short and sweet, a moment of peace stolen in a swirling storm of chaos. Wrathion pulled back with a purr and a smile. "It takes a strong person to forgive an unforgivable crime."

"Tell that to Genn." Anduin grumped slightly. "He's got a perpetual stiffy for Sylvanas ever since she tried to take Gilneas from him and murdered his son."

Wrathion made a face. "For the love of... I didn't need that mental picture, Anduin."

"Sorry, 'Thion," Anduin said with a tone that meant he wasn't sorry at all. "But she's every other word he says. Sylvanas this, the Banshee Queen that, the Warchief blah, blah, blah."

"Maybe they should just screw each other and get over it."

Anduin gave Wrathion a scandalized look. "That's gross."

"Oh, come on! Don't tell me you've never thought about it!"

"I haven't! Not even once!"

"Why not?"

Anduin's cheeks flared bright red. "Because I have you, stupid."

Wrathion's expression was blank for a moment, and then his lips split into a bright grin that had heat to it. "Why, my dear Wrynn, that's such a sweet thing to say."

"Don't call me that." Anduin grumped, despite the fact his cheeks were still warm. "And anyway, you still owe me for disappearing on me like that. And for reappearing so unexpectedly."

Whatever Wrathion had been about to say in reply was cut short when horns sounded from close to the city wall. Both he and Anduin snapped to rapt attention, and Wrathion slid his helmet back upon his head just as Greymane and a small contingent of Stormwind and Gilnean soldiers melted out of the smoke of war and approached Anduin. The young king saw Greymane give the dark knight beside Anduin a cursory glower, as if he didn't trust Wrathion as far as he could throw him - which was probably true, Anduin mused to himself - and then Greymane turned his attention to Anduin.

"We're ready to press further into the city," the Gilnean king said, his furry ears twitching as he picked up sounds even Anduin couldn't hear, "so if you're ready to join us, we'll go."

Anduin nodded. "I'm ready."

As Genn began issuing orders to the men and women with him, Anduin glanced at Wrathion and noticed the Black Prince was staring almost sidelong at the destroyed walls of the castle. As if realizing he was being watched, Wrathion focused on Anduin and canted his head to one side in askance. In response Anduin smiled and looked toward the castle. He whispered, "I've never seen Undercity myself, but I remember Father telling me stories about it."

"It can be easy to get lost in there." Genn said. "So be sure to stay close. Only the keep above ground has been cleared, so there's no telling what might lurk below."

"Are you saying some of the Horde might have fled below?" Anduin asked as he fell into step with Greymane.

"They might have. They cut us off from Silvermoon by destroying the translocation orb, and in doing so cut off their own avenue of escape." Genn lumbered over the corpse of a Tauren bull. Anduin felt his stomach twist uncomfortably as he thought of Baine, and he hoped his friend was still safe. "If my memory still serves me," Genn continued, "there are few paths of escape from Undercity, but we have those exits watched. If any Horde remain, we'll know."

"And the Warchief?" Anduin asked.

Genn's shoulders tightened and his voice was a growl when he answered, "Vanished down into the Undercity. She took out two of my men and wounded a dozen more before she collapsed the elevator. It bought her time, but not enough."

"Probably bought her just enough." Wrathion whispered to Anduin, who silently agreed. Sylvanas and those with her had a lifetime of experience and then some when it came to war. She knew a losing battle when she saw one.

They continued across the battlefield in silence then, allowing Anduin to see the extent to the damage wrought upon both the Alliance and Horde and the surrounding land. Dead from both sides littered the blood-soaked earth, felled by sword, arrow, and spell. Humans and kal'dorei lay with trolls and orcs; dwarves and draenei lay with sin'dorei and Tauren. In death, they were brothers and sisters. In death, they were all the same. Anduin wished he could have prevented those needless deaths, but each of the fallen had fought for what he or she believed in, and had sacrificed themselves to make sure that those they left behind could keep fighting for whatever future would come. Anduin knew this, and yet knowing it still didn't make him feel any less guilty or sad. It was all he could do to ignore the cries of the wounded, knowing he would just get in the way of the healers already hard at work. He looked up at Wrathion when the taller boy put his hand gently on Anduin's shoulder and gave the dragon a weak smile. Wrathion nodded and gave Anduin a light push to keep him moving, though he never quite removed his hand from Anduin's shoulder.

They entered the keep and Anduin shivered. Not only had the bombardment of the Alliance destroyed most of the brickwork, but there were older scars that marked a violence long past, a violence that made Anduin wonder if ghosts really did haunt this place. There were more wounded than dead here, and any Horde survivor that might be still able to move had been mercilessly put down. Anduin saw a Forsaken lying where she had fallen, her bony fingers still clutching her bow, and he wondered for a moment of she was still alive, until he saw the pike sticking straight up out of her chest. Wrathion pulled him away from the grisly scene, and deeper into the castle.

Greymane led the way down into the bowels of the keep where the corpses of two abominations lay amidst half-cleared rubble. As they approached, Anduin saw a night elf rogue detach himself from the shadows and approach Genn. The kal'dorei spoke in low tones to the worgen, then departed, giving a half-bow to Anduin. Greymane was quiet for a moment, almost contemplstive as he studied the ruined elevator. Below, Anduin could hear the echoes of voices, but he could barely make out the words. Wrathion hissed a soft curse but didn't leave Anduin's side, even when their guard moved closer to the opening in the floor. Anduin felt his stomach do an odd little twist.

Maybe this isn't such a good idea, after all. he thought, gripping the hilt of Shalamayne tighter.

"It's safe enough," Greymane growled, and for a moment Anduin thought the old king was speaking to him. But Genn was staring down the hole that led into Undercity proper, his lips pulled back into a snarl. "Just watch your backs and try not to jump at shadows."

If there was a reply, Anduin didn't hear it. He met Greymane's eyes when the worgen looked toward him and Wrathion. The Gilnean gestured for Anduin to come forward, which he did, along with his shadow. Anduin looked down at the remnants of the elevator and the rope ladder that dangled in the fire-lit shadow of the hole. "How many are down there already?" Anduin asked.

"Enough to watch you when you get down there." Genn replied. "And don't go wandering off."

That last was directed at Wrathion, who responded with a two-fingered salute that made Genn growl. Anduin would have smiled, but he was a king now, and kings didn't smile at disrespectful actions. He also pointedly didn't reprimand Wrathion, as he should have done as king. Anduin simply looked at Greymane and waited for the worgen to make the first move. Grumbling, Genn leaped down the hole, catching onto the ladder at the last second and climbing the rest of the way down. Silently, Anduin, Wrathion, and their guard followed.

The first thing that assaulted Anduin at the bottom of the elevator was the smell. It was rank with the scent of decay. The Horde probably never noticed because they were so used to the Forsaken, and the Forsaken never noticed because they were, well, dead. They had no sense of smell. Or taste. Anduin wrinkled his nose but pressed on, emerging into the large circular room that had once been the center of commerce for the Undercity. It was empty now, abandoned and ransacked, but Anduin couldn't tell if it had come before or after the Alliance's attack. Soldiers moved smartly across the bridges that spanned the putrid green waters of the canals, and deeper in, Anduin could hear the faint calls and clashing of weapons.

"My lord!" called a soldier from the platform beneath Anduin and his party. When Anduin looked, the man saluted. "We have a few Horde survivors cornered in the War Quarter. They're holed up pretty good; even with spells we can't reach them!"

Greymane turned to Anduin. "I'll handle this. You, with me. And you," this time he pointed at Wrathion, "stay with the king, or I'll skin you alive and make a cape from the leather."

Wrathion laughed, and Anduin noted a nervous tone to the sound. "Don't worry. I won't let Anduin out of my sight."

Greymane snorted with derision but jumped away anyway, most of the guard going with him. Anduin glanced at Wrathion. "You've really pissed him off."

Wrathion shrugged. "Obviously. Do you really think he'd skin me alive?"

"Depends. He might want to fatten you up first for some decent leather."

"You wound me, Anduin."

"You started it."

Anduin moved around the upper tier of the central space then, studying the different caverns that had likely once been cells, repurposed into shops, a barber's, a stable, and even an inn. He saw the remains of lives and livelihoods, and wondered if the owners of these shops - innocent people, whatever side they were on - were still alive. If they had escaped. Once he'd seen his fill of the top tier, he went down the ramp to the second, with Wrathion right behind him the entire time. The second tier was similar to the first, except it held the remnants of what must have been the bank and the shops of professional tailors and chefs and other things. Anduin paused on a bridge that led deeper into the Undercity and watched the green river flow for a time. Wrathion watched as well, though most of his attention was on whatever might come through the halls at them rather than the strangely colored water.

Though he knew it was dangerous and foolish, Anduin continued away from established safe territory and into the outer ring of the Undercity. Wrathion followed, pulling off his helmet as he did to have a better view of their surroundings. What he was thinking, Anduin didn't know, and he didn't ask, not wanting to give voice to his own plaguing questions because he was already certain he already knew the answers and he didn't like them.

Anduin found himself drawn to a somewhat secluded corner of the inner ring, where there was a long dusty table with the remnants of plant stains and rings from old glass beakers and the pleasant aroma of flowers and herbs. There was a shelf still filled with books, still signs that someone had been here until recently and had fled in a hurry, taking with them only what was important and what they could carry and what they didn't want to leave behind to fall into the hands of the enemy. Despite Anduin knowing that the Horde and Alliance weren't that much different from each other, it was still so strange to see shared behavior between both sides in actual practice. He wondered how many people had actually lingered to grab that one last thing and never actually made it out. There were no bodies here, but that didn't mean they weren't piled somewhere, or were unceremoniously dumped in the canals and left to float away.

Anduin dropped Shalamayne on the table, braced his hands against the wood and stared at the grain whirling out from beneath his armored fingers. He closed his eyes tight and fought down the doubt and self-recrimination that was threatening to entangle his mind like a vile weed. There was a reason he was doing this, a reason why he even gave in to Greymane's insistence in the first place, a reason why he'd held back as much of his forces as he could until Sylvanas had gotten her people out. There was a reason he was going against the very essence of his being. It wasn't for revenge or for retaliation. It was for Azeroth. For the future. Anduin knew that, and yet it still didn't make him feel any better.

There was a woody thunk as metal hit the table. Hands were suddenly at his waist, settling gently there as if to remind Anduin he wasn't alone. Anduin opened his eyes, saw Wrathion's helm on the table beside Shalamayne, and twisted slightly, for once catching Wrathion off guard as he captured the dragon's mouth with his own. Wrathion recovered quickly for all his surprise and returned the kiss, as if he could feel Anduin's desperation in his own heart. When they broke apart, Wrathion cupped Anduin's face between his hands and kissed him again and again until Anduin was red-faced and breathless. Then he kissed Anduin some more, just to keep the blonde from speaking.

"Wrathion," Anduin whispered when the black dragon finally allowed him to breathe, "I don't know if I can do this."

"You've come this far. It's kind of dumb to get cold feet now."

"That's not what I meant." Anduin stared into crimson eyes, seeing patience there. "I mean, being in control. Being the catalyst for destruction. Being the name on everyone's lips when they cry out for Horde blood." He shook his head. "I'm not my father. I'll never be my father. And I can't help but feel like that's who everyone wants me to be."

Wrathion was quiet for a minute, staring into blue eyes and weighing his words. Then he said, "Well, you're wrong on at least one count. Not everyone wants you to be Varian. I don't. I love you just the way you are, Anduin Wrynn, champion of the Light and peace and all that crap you like to talk about. I like your blonde hair and your blue eyes. I like your unmarred skin. I like the way you make animated gestures when you're pissed at me. I like the way you whisper my name. I like the way you turn fierce when it comes to saving lives. Screw everyone else. My opinion's the only one that should matter to you."

Despite himself, Anduin laughed, even if his eyes were welling with tears. "Your opinion can't be the only one that matters."

"Outside this," Wrathion waved his hands around himself and Anduin, as if indicating an invisible bubble around the two, "sure, listen to whomever you feel the need to listen to. But when we're alone, when it's just me and you, there are no titles, no roles, nothing but two people who lo- okay, nothing but a dragon and a human who love each other very much, and that's all you need to worry about."

Anduin felt warmth blossom in his chest at Wrathion's words, then moved forward and kissed the black dragon hard. When he pulled back to breathe, Anduin said, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

Wrathion's lips twitched into an almost sardonic smile. "You seemed to get along just fine."

"Shut up." Anduin kissed Wrathion hard once again, effectively cutting off any more commentary. Not that Wrathion wanted to speak anymore, at least on subjects that would make the blonde even more upset than he was, and speaking seemed like a bad idea now anyway since Anduin was being more forceful than he usually was when it came to kissing.

So Wrathion kissed him back and eventually wrested control from the smaller male, guiding their kiss into something deeper and hotter than before. It was very much a thrill for the Black Prince to be doing something so intimate in a still-dangerous place, and the thought of being caught or in peril made him actually groan with want and need. The only problem was they were both wearing armor, and it would take hours to put Anduin's back on if they ever managed to get it off in the first place. Wrathion could use his magic to change his clothing as he saw fit, but he'd never actually tried it on another before, especially Anduin. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Wrathion felt pretty desperate. And judging by Anduin's flushed face and smoldering eyes, he seemed pretty desperate, too.

"Hold still." Wrathion commanded, breathing the words out into Anduin's ear. The blonde shivered but obeyed, not arguing with whatever the darker man was going to do.

Wrathion focused on his beloved human, raising his left hand and crooking his fingers as if he were going to cast some sort of enchantment upon the blonde. In a way he was, just not what one might think was a typical spell. He focused on the same nuances of the spell he used to turn human, to ensure that his body was enrobed in cloth and leather and silks when he changed skins, and then commanded his magic to remove those obstacles, both from himself and Anduin.

He saw Anduin's eyes close tight and an expression of discomfort flashed across the blonde's face. Then Anduin's armor seemed to become less substantial, just as his own was, and then it vanished altogether. They stood before each other in their undergarments, and Wrathion grinned widely in pride.

"I did it!" He crowed, moving toward Anduin to grip at the smaller man's shirt. "I actually did- mmph!"

Anduin pulled back from Wrathion's mouth, licking his lower lip. "I thought I told you to shut up."

Wrathion's prideful grin lessened into a heated, self-satisfied smile. "As you command, my king."

This time it was Anduin's turn to be cut off in mid-sentence, all his breath stolen by Wrathion as the black dragon pulled him flush against his body, effectively trapping him between the table and Wrathion himself. Not that Anduin minded, as he wanted this closeness. He wanted this man, dragon, whatever, and he didn't want to waste the opportunity that had sprung up here, especially since it had been so long since he had been this intimate with his lover. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the little warning voice went off, saying it was foolish and dangerous to do this here, where there could still be enemies lurking, where someone could see. But Anduin ignored that little voice, especially when Wrathion rolled his hips into Anduin's and caused his brain to fizzle out.

Theirs was a hurried sort of coupling, hot kisses bruising lips and rough touches eliciting sounds of absolute pleasure and want and need. The sounds of their voices filled the small area, little gasps and soft cries that definitely wouldn't be mistaken for anything but what they actually were.

Then Wrathion gripped Anduin's waist and lifted him up onto the table with strength belied by his slight frame. Anduin sat there for a moment, stunned, before melting into another of Wrathion's rapturous kisses. Wrathion's hands fumbled with the laces at Anduin's pants. Once undid the knot and loosened the fabric, he slipped both his hands inside and encircled Anduin's waist with his arms, allowing his hands to grip the two halves of Anduin's rear and squeeze. Anduin gasped into their kiss, arching his spine slightly at the touch. Wrathion used the opportunity to pull those pants down, with Anduin helping a little, to reveal all of the blonde from the waist down. They didn't dare get completely naked for obvious reasons, but Wrathion didn't want his way barred and Anduin wasn't about to fight him.

It took only seconds for Wrathion to free himself from the confines of his own clothing, and he gave a soft sigh at that. Then he focused on Anduin, who was propped atop the table by his elbows, watching him with a bright sapphire gaze. He moved between Anduin's legs and pulled the blonde closer to the edge of the table, which allowed Anduin to grip onto his shoulder with one hand while the other remained on the table, bent at the elbow, to support him.

"Are you sure?" Wrathion asked, despite how hard he was and how much he wanted to be buried inside Anduin right now.

"I'm sure," Anduin replied, his voice equally rough with his need. "We don't have time for the niceties, and I can heal myself after."

Wrathion nodded. He pulled Anduin even closer but not completely off the table, then positioned them so that the head of his cock brushed lightly against the blonde's entrance. "Give me your mouth," Wrathion commanded. "I don't want anyone hearing you."

The moment Anduin obeyed and they locked together in a hot, muffling, tongue-twisting kiss, Wrathion rolled his hips forward as fast and as hard as he could. Though he didn't want to hurt Anduin, he knew that no matter how fast or slow or hard or gently he tried to bury his cock in Anduin's ass, there was going to be pain. The sooner it was over the better, and Wrathion didn't give Anduin a chance to really register the hurt before he was pulling out and thrusting in again, beginning a little rhythm that had the human gasping once they broke the kiss and whimpering.

Atop the table, Anduin was completely helpless in Wrathion's hold. He didn't care. He clung to the dragon and fought not to cry out too loudly as each thrust sent a spike of pleasure up his spine and into his brain. He could feel every inch of Wrathion, the heat the dragon exuded, and only wanted more of him. He stared into Wrathion's crimson eyes, seeing too many emotions to name, and seeing the love and devotion the Black Prince had for him, and only him. He knew the emotions were reflected in his own eyes, because Wrathion smiled and pulled him off the table just to change positions and take him from behind. Anduin stretched out on the table on his chest rather than his back, his hand soon covered by Wrathion's. Their fingers twined together, dark against pale, and Anduin felt Wrathion pick up the pace, thrusting deep, and deeper still, into him.

Wrathion's free arm snaked around Anduin's waist and gripped the blonde's own erection, earning a sharp but quickly muffled cry from Anduin. Anduin squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his forehead into his arm, his other hand tightening around Wrathion's as pleasure washed through his system like a crashing wave. Behind him, Wrathion was having a hard time controlling himself, so entranced by Anduin as he was, and he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold back too much longer. He leaned forward even as he kept his hips and hand moving, and pressed rough kisses into Anduin's shoulders. He even bit down into the soft pale flesh just to leave a bruise.

It was the second of such love bites that pushed Anduin over the edge, his entire body seizing so hard that he couldn't even make a sound. His spine arched and his head came back and he came hard, muscles clamping down around Wrathion and effectively locking him deep inside the blonde's body. Not that Wrathion cared, giving a little extra effort to bury himself just a few centimeters deeper before following Anduin into oblivion. How long they stayed joined together like that, filling the area with only their panting, neither of them knew or cared. Anduin at last made a noise when Wrathion finally pulled out of him, leaving him to stand on his own two trembling feet. Wrathion didn't move too far away though, just inside Anduin's peripheral, and keeping a single hand on his side to keep the blonde from falling down until he regained his equilibrium.

"Heal yourself," Wrathion ordered, his voice rough. Anduin nodded rather than reply verbally and closed his eyes to call upon the Light. His torn skin itched as the warmth of the holy magic filled his body, chasing away the hurts that were now making themselves apparent. In the meantime, Wrathion used a scrap of cloth to clean himself, then Anduin, and tucked himself back into his pants.

Once Anduin had done the same, Wrathion gave him a loving kiss before stepping back and raising his hand as he'd done before. Anduin watched, fascinated, as his armor reappeared on his body, once more protecting him with its weight. Wrathion was soon similarly dressed in his own black armor, moving to pick up Shalamayne before Anduin could retrieve it. He offered the hilt to the blonde, smirking.

Anduin grinned back, unable to help the blush that colored his cheeks. "I guess you really missed me."

Wrathion's crimson eyes narrowed slightly in amusement. "My love, you have no idea."

"We should head back, before Genn comes looking."

Wrathion made a face at that but nodded. He followed Anduin out of the alcove and back down the path toward the hall that would take them back to the main room in the Undercity.

As they passed another alcove, Wrathion heard a soft hiss, and recognized it as a sword being drawn. He spun around quickly, grabbing Anduin and shoving the young king behind him even as he brought his own sword up to stop the blow that should have gored them both. It would have, if Wrathion was anything but what he was.

The goblin looked startled at the fact that his blade had been stopped by that of a human who clearly was at the wrong angle and balance to do what he'd just done. Wrathion's lips split into a feral grin and he surged forward, shoving the goblin backwards. Wrathion bore down on the smaller creature, his draconian strength lending him the advantage. He knocked the goblin's blade wide and then down, where it kicked up sparks when it hit the stone floor. He rammed his knee into the goblin's face, snapping his head back, and the Wrathion executed a short spin that took him away from his opponent and allowed him to bring up his sword for a thrust that would end the goblin's life.

He didn't get a chance to do that, however, as the goblin fell flat and rolled to the left, avoiding Wrathion's thrust and leaving him in prime position for retaliation. Wrathion repositioned as fast as he could, but he was a second too slow, and when he was facing Anduin again, the goblin was close enough to the blonde to attack him from behind, as Anduin had turned to engage a Forsaken. The undead creature's hands were close to closing around Anduin's throat, even though Shalamayne was sunk deep into the Forsaken's chest. It was all Anduin could do to keep the undead from reaching his neck, even with the glimmer of a shield of light around him.

Wrathion knew that even if he sprinted, he wouldn't make it in time to stop the goblin from tearing out Anduin's spine or hamstringing him at the very least. He couldn't risk throwing his sword on the off-chance he'd hit the blonde human, and he couldn't risk using his powers lest he bring the whole damn structure down on top of them. But even knowing that, he still had to try, because he couldn't let Anduin die.

A bowstring twanged, deep and sonorous. Before Wrathion had even moved more than a foot or two, a purple-clad arrow shot past his shoulder and buried itself in the goblin's back. The force of impact was so great that it knocked the goblin forward and slammed his face into the ground. At the same time, a massive green-skinned hand came out of the darkness and latched onto the Forsaken's skull. With a mighty yank, the Forsaken was ripped off Shalamayne and thrown across the glowing green canal into a pillar supporting a nearby bridge. The undead hit the lip of the canal, then splashed into the green water.

Anduin stood panting and staring up at Saurfang.

Wrathion visibly flinched as Sylvanas strode by, her bowstring still vibrating.

"While I appreciate the show, Your Majesty," Sylvanas said in a disapproving tone, "there is a time and a place for such activities, and this is neither the time nor the place."

Both Anduin and Wrathion's cheeks turned red. Anduin fidgeted under the Warchief's crimson gaze. "You saw, huh?"

Sylvanas's expression softened slightly. "Anduin, I understand. Believe me, I do. But please don't put yourself in unnecessary situations."

Anduin's cheeks turned even more crimson. "I... Sorry. I thought you'd evacuated all the Horde."

"And let Greymane roam around unchecked? Do you take me for a fool, Wrynn?"

Anduin shook his head. Wrathion wisely mentioned nothing of Sylvanas's ability to call Anduin by his last name and get away with it.

Sylvanas took a breath and released it. She glanced at Saurfang when the orc made a soft noise. "Give me a chance to enjoy this strange alliance of ours, Anduin. It would be a definite shame were you to perish before our pact is realized. And I would so relish the look on Greymane's face when he discovers this."

Anduin straightened his shoulders. "Has anyone ever told you you're a bitch?"

Sylvanas's lips quirked. "Yes." she said. "But not so brazenly to my face."

Wrathion sprung between the Warchief and the High King before anything else could happen and grabbed onto Anduin. "We're going! Thank you, by the way, for saving us, bye!"

With Anduin protesting, Wrathion dragged him back down the hall and into the safety of the waiting Alliance forces.

Sylvanas turned on her heel and started for the sewer exit, where she and Saurfang had been heading after completing the evacuation of Undercity before she'd heard the commotion taking place just slightly back the way they had come. They walked in silence for a time before Saurfang ventured, "You didn't really watch them, did you?"

Sylvanas slanted him a glower. He held up his hands in surrender. She looked ahead, to where two large riding bats were awaiting them. "Better they think so, isn't it? Besides, I hate to have a carefully constructed plan ruined before it's fully realized, and such a plan hinges on young Wrynn staying alive."

"You really do want to see Greymane's face when he realizes you played him like a boss, don't you?"

Sylvanas smiled, and this time it reached her eyes, transforming her normally cold, stoic visage into something beautiful. "That." she replied. "And also to see the look on Anduin's face when he realizes he owes me."

Saurfang blinked. "You really are a bitch."

The Warchief's crimson eyes flashed with mirth as she mounted her bat. "You have no idea." 

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