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Shattered	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 8001 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter Two –Deathspeaker Vance Dixon
“Are you listening to me, boy?”
Vance frowned and brought his full attention to the large lich hovering nearby. “You haven’t used that tone with me in years, Master …” he started.
“Nor have I had cause,” the lich once known as Kel'Thuzad of The Kirin Tor, now the Lord of Naxxramas.    “Your fascination with your prisoner is both nauseating and delicious at the same time. Even now your eyes are watching the clock behind me, anticipating the next meeting between brothers.   For weeks you’ve sicced that Death Knight on his kin like you would a dog to a bone. Knowing you there is another plan in the works other than torturing an old foe.”
“Perhaps,” Vance said sitting up straighter, “but I won’t bore you with such trivial matters. What brings you to Ebon Hold, my old master?”
“I need another lieutenant, Gilda recently transcended,” Kel’Thuzad replied as he floated over to the fireplace in Vance’s room. “Cold in here, is it?”
“So you’re looking for a Next in Line?” Vance tried to keep resentment out of his voice; he deserved the gift of undeath more than that whiney bitch Gilda had.
His old master laughed darkly, “Jealousy suits you well, feed off it. Soon you will join me in immortality, but not at this time.   I need you to remain in your flawed state for a bit longer.” The lich picked up a golden urn. “I see you still have daddy dearest’s ashes.”
“Master assures me he will rise again when the time is right,” Vance said defensively. “So you are returning to Naxxramas soon?”
“Yes,” the ethereal being set the urn back on the mantle. “Any suggestions for my dilemma?”
“Me,” Vance thought darkly, it was time for this meeting to end, and if he hurried he could still catch the last few minutes of Foster’s torture. Though the past two days there had been less crying from his victim; it might be time for the next step. The sound of Nathaniel’s choking sobs were music to his ears.
“I see I lost you to your desires,” Kel’Thuzad said with a chuckle. “Please have your head on straight the next time we hold an audience.”
Vance felt his cheeks grow warm at the word ‘desire’. “Lamar,” he said briskly, “he is one of our top apothecaries; I think he would make a good lieutenant. He’s quick on his feet and has a sharp mind.”
The undead Lord nodded, “thank you for your council.”
After seeing Kel’Thuzad to the door, Vance forced himself to wait a several minutes before exiting and working his way to the dungeons of Ebon Hold.   They were not known to hold prisoners for long, they usually found their way into the ranks of the Scourge as Death Knights, members of the cult if worthy or ghoul fonder if found otherwise. As he approached Nathaniel’s cell, the door opened and Foster stepped out. The Death Knight’s armor was splattered with blood.
“Report,” Vance ordered.
Fiery eyes met his; unholy flames flickering from within the dark helm. “I helped my brother escape again today.”
“And how did that go?” Vance asked, disappointed he had missed the turmoil between brothers.
“He pissed himself twice,” Foster said, “before we even reached the aviary. This is the third time I have aided in fleeing; he knew the fate which awaited him. He even worked up enough energy to beg me not to do it.”
Vance laughed darkly. “How many bones did you break on today’s escape attempt?” He knew the game Foster played with his brother, dropping him from back of his bone griffon, high in the sky, only to catch him with his dark magic before he struck the ground. Except sometimes he missed and the elf would crash to the ground. Though he was under strict orders not to kill Nathaniel, only maim. So those times the height was low enough the elf would survive.
“He was unable to walk back to his cell,” Foster replied darkly, “though did manage to crawl with some … persuasion.”
Vance smirked and motioned for the Death Knight to remain. Foster nodded and moved to stand at attention beside the cell. Ramona, the banshee healer, appeared at his side. “As we discussed,” he ordered walking inside.
The small room reeked and the elf crumpled in the middle was the source of most of the odor. At his command there wasn’t even the simplest means of comfort in the prison, no straw to sleep on, chamber pot, or fresh water to drink. The clothing Nathaniel had been wearing when taken had been shredded down to leggings that were barely holding together, chest and feet were bare. The elf let out a gargling sound, as froth and blood left his lips.   The cheeks were damp with fallen tears and Vance found himself smiling. Kneeling onto the floor he carefully lifted Nathaniel’s head and placed it in his lap.
“Gentle,” he ordered as he brushed the soiled hair away from the dirty but otherwise unblemished face. The elf had grown gaunt in captivity due to the lack of food.
“I don’t do gentle,” the banshee hissed.
“You will or your second death will be even more painful than you first, wench!” Vance growled.
Slowly the cuts on Nathaniel’s flesh mended and faded, leaving behind only the blood spilled. Bones were straightened and repaired as Vance gently stroked Nathaniel’s damp cheek. As the eye lids fluttered opened, the banshee faded from sight. There was the briefest moment of ecstasy as fear sparked in those deep blue eyes. Yes, he would almost be willing to give up his first death to awake to that trepidation every morning. His body reacted to his desires and he shifted himself slightly so the one resting on his lap wouldn’t feel it. Curse this elf for making him like this; it was his fault his dreams were filled with the thought of those lush lips around his hardness.
He lost himself in the past, thinking back to that time in the cave, before that arrogant paladin had ruined everything. The first time this elf had submitted to him and opened his mind to unscrupulous desires.   The elfin child had been so willing to please after the thrashing, anything to stop the pain … anything. Forcing his mind to focus on the present he looked down, the eyes had lost their fear and in its place was confusion.
“Careful,” he reminded himself. “So, my pet,” he asked soothingly, “have you thought more on my offer? I’ll bathe you, feed you, clothe you, let you sleep beside my fire for warmth, protect you from harm … the only hurt you would ever experience would be at my hand as your training progresses. You’re a smart pet, you’ll learn quickly and with knowledge the sting of lessons will fade.”
“At what cost?” Nathaniel sighed, his lips parting, tempting.
“You know the fee,” Vance said, keeping his fingers lightly combing through the dirty blonde hair.
On cue the heavy footfalls of Foster walked in the door and the elf in his lap went rigid as the delicious fear returned in the deep blue eyes. “I’m afraid my time here is growing short, I need an answer now, my pet. Otherwise I’ll try to remember to check on you again in a few days.”
Nathaniel trembled as Foster bent down, with a cry the elf curled against Vance. He laid a hand over the bare back shielding him from his brother. “Don’t leave me,” the elf whimpered and the Deathspeaker of the Lich King smiled.
“What is the cost, my pet?” he asked.
“Obedience,” Nathaniel said softly.
“Total unquestionable submission,” Vance corrected, “you are mine to do with as I desire and discard when I am done, but until then you have my protection, agreed?”
“Yes,” Nathaniel whispered as he let out a sob.
“Yes, Master,” Vance corrected. When the elf didn’t reply he swatted him hard on the ass, the threadbare cover did little to cushion the blow. “Yes … Master,” he said again.
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel replied with another sob.
“Look me in the eyes,” Vance ordered. Once their gazes met, he fed off the fear and humiliation he saw there. “Again,” he commanded, “this is your first lesson, my pet.”
“Yes, Master,” Nathaniel said and Vance grinned as he claimed another piece of soul from the elf.
He held out his hand. “Give me your ring,” the stricken look almost made him climax and it took all the years of training to stifle the moan of pleasure. “I will not ask again, slut. I will leave and take my promises with me.”
“It will hurt,” Nathaniel whispered as he took the Sunwell ring from his finger.
“Master!” Vance corrected tensely.
“Master!” Nathaniel all but wailed as he dropped the ring into Vance’s palm.
“Shush, now, you’ll learn, you’re a smart slut. And the pain only happens if you’re away from the ring which means as long as you’re close to me you’ll be okay, right, my pet?” he asked as he slipped the ring onto a chain and placed it around his neck. Grimy fingers reached for it and Vance grabbed the wrist twisting slightly, enough to cause the elf to cry out. “Do NOT touch me, ever, you dirty faggot,” he snapped and Nathaniel let out a strangled sob. “Apologize,” he demanded, enjoying every moment of the torment.
“Sorry … Master,” the second word was quickly added.
“See, I knew you were a clever slut,” Vance said, letting the velvet back into his voice. “Let us get out of this pit shall we? It would be wise to follow closely, the untouched living are not welcomed in these halls. In fact let’s do this …” He pulled out a small black cloth and quickly blindfolded Nathaniel, the elf whimpered. Now that his sight was obstructed Vance allowed himself to smile, his gaze took in the barely dressed elf. Taking the belt from his robe he handed Nathaniel one end, “hold onto this my pet, I will lead you to safety.”
The walk back to his chamber was entertaining as he led his prize. Blind and weak, the elf stumbled over steps and other hazards that he could not see. As such obstacles caused the elf to fall to his knees a third time and in catching himself he dropped the lead. Smirking Vance took a step back and motioned for Foster, who trailed behind, to do the same. Nathaniel’s grubby hand scouted the ground in front of him and Vance heard a sharp intake of breath as the end of his belt wasn’t found. The search became more frantic.
“Master?”
Vance remained silent and watched.
“Master,” Nathaniel’s voiced raised in pitch as he grabbed blindly at the ground in front of him, sobbing. “Master, I’m sorry … please don’t leave me!”
“And why would I do that my pet?” Vance asked sweetly and Nathaniel turned toward his voice. “You may make amends for your mistake by crawling to me. Followed by licking my shoe until you’re calmed down enough to continue.”
As he spoke Nathaniel crept toward his voice, his hands searching in front of him. The fingers touched his toes and pulled back, “Sorry, Master” the prostrating elf cried as he inched closer and Vance felt the light pressure against the top of his foot.
The agent of the Lich King caught his breath. The slut was actually doing it, without any further persuasion. The dirty blonde hair pooled around his feet and the elf focused on the orders given. Vance couldn’t wait until the grime was washed from it; he bet it gleamed like sunlight. That thought brought the humiliation to an end as he placed the belt end back in Nathaniel’s hand. “Let us continue,” he said.
Standing, his captive fell in step behind him, his right hand on the wall to help support him and the left holding tightly to the strap. They were walking down the hallway outside his room when a tall slender elf appeared, his skin the color of death; a Darkfallen, one of Queen Lana’thel’s San'layn.
“I sense virgin blood,” the vampire said with a grin that revealed his dagger like teeth.
“This one is mine, Prince Theraldis” Vance growled as Foster pulled the sword from his back. “A gift from the Master, you will not touch him.”
The arrogant elf glared at Vance and then sorted. “He reeks; his blood is probably just a filthy.   The Master has gifted you with rubbish, how fitting of a man in your stature, Deathspeaker.”
Before retaliation could be spoken the elf was gone, but the foul mood remained and Vance had the perfect outlet for it shivering at the end of his belt. Without speaking he jerked on the makeshift leash and Nathaniel stumbled behind him toward his chambers.
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Shattered