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20,000 Leagues Under the Sea	By : ShigeSato Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 997 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The locations and some of the spells and characters described herein belong to Activision Blizzard. I do not own World of Warcraft and I make no money from this work.

Chapter List
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Farlin stood on the long deck of the mercenary ship, staring vaguely out to sea as thoughts flitted across his mind like birds – one moment they were there, and before he could grasp them properly they had floated off again. The waves sparkled in the evening sunlight in the quiet and peacefulness of the open sea, far from the bustling city and the ongoing war with, it seemed, everyone. He wished for a time in the future when peoples of the world were not at war, and the forces of Deathwing were eradicated from Azeroth. Pulling a copper coin from his pocket, Farlin kissed it for luck and threw it as far as he could, watching its descent into the sun sparkled on its shiny surface, before it vanished with a small splash beneath the ocean.
"Good arm," a voice behind him said, and Farlin turned to see Jared smiling crookedly at him. He grinned back at his friend and turned back towards the deck, feeling more than hearing the other move beside him.
"It's so quiet out here," Farlin remarked, stretching and yawning as his tiredness momentarily caught up with him.
"Sure is," Jared said in a low voice. "Like when we were kids, d'you remember? My gramma's hut outside Stormwind. We used to run down to the lake with the waterfall, right by the city walls, and swim in the lake all day, and it was so peaceful."
Farlin chuckled at the memory. "D'you remember when we tried to find out if your gramma's cats could swim too?"
Jared broke out in laughter. "That day wasn't quite as peaceful as most."
"Indeed," the other paladin remarked, smirking. "What was it you had, four infected scratches?"
"Five," Jared laughed. "Hurt like a bitch too!"
"Rather you than me," Farlin smiled, and Jared punched him on the arm.
"I miss those times." Jared leaned his elbows on the side of the ship in a wistful poise. "Don't you sometimes wish everything could be that simple again?"
Farlin nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly with his friend but not trusting himself to say it. Jared's words held more meaning for him than the other paladin knew.
"Anyway," Jared said, straightening up, "dinner's on the table if you want it. Everyone's gathering in the mess hall and there's plenty of rum – could be a good night."
"I'll see you there," Farlin said, and watched his friend clap him on the shoulder and leave, vanishing downstairs into the raucous interior of the ship, from which he could already hear guffaws of male laughter rising out of the portholes. Ironic, he thought, that with the sea breeze ad the evening sun sinking below the horizon, all he could really feel was the place on his shoulder that Jared had touched so innocently.
He stayed out on the deck for another twenty minutes or so, just relaxing in the cool air, before deciding that he was actally rather hungry and he should go and see if there was any food left before it was all eaten. Just then, though, his keen ears picked up another noise, a small scuffling like that of a mouse. Frowning slightly, he paced across the deck, eyes scanning the floor and the air for anything that could have made the sound – but the ship was deserted.
"Who's there?" he asked, eyes darting to and fro. He had seen rogues play this kind of trick before. He drew his blade, afraid that somehow a Horde spy had found his way onto the ship and was about to finish him off. Whipping around to view the other side of the ship, where he had come from, he could still see nothing. Taking a few tentative steps backwards, he was shocked when the back of his foot bumped into something solid, and leapt forward instantly, turning in midair to land facing his foe. His blade dropped to the ground in surprise as the sleeping form of the night elf from the previous night (what had Jared called him – Tamri!) slowly faded into view. He had been Shadowmelding.
Farlin knelt down beside the man, frowning. Why was he asleep on the deck, and how long had he been there? Jared had mentioned he was coming on the expedition today. He poked the elf sharply in the ribs, and the mage awoke suddenly, his hands forming an enchantment as he began to defend himself. When he saw who it was, he relaxed and pulled himself into a sitting position. "That was uncalled for."
"Why are you asleep in the middle of the deck?" Farlin questioned. "Anyone could have tripped over you. You're lucky it was me – if it had been an officer you'd have ten lashes for that."
"Ha!" The elf seemed to find Farlin's last comment amusing. "I'd like to see any general that would dare to try and lash me." With that, though, he stood up and brushed himself down. His eerie yellow eyes were hollow, though whether it was the sadness the elf must still hold inside him or that was just what elven eyes looked like Farlin wasn't sure. He hadn't ever made the journey to Darnassus – there were none of his order present in the city so there was no call for him.
The mage held out his hand. "I'm Tamri. Pleased to make a rather better acquaintance than we did last night. I believe I was inappropriately inebriated and not in a fit state to meet such an esteemed colleague for the first time."
"Inappropriate is one word for it," Farlin said, raising an eyebrow as he shook the elf's hand firmly. He was curious about this man, who could be passed out on a table in a dingy bar and the very next day be found asleep on the deck of a ship; and yet still hold all the authority and respect that a mage commands. It was something about his straight words and his unblinking yellow eyes that simply made Farlin feel inferior to him, and yet he felt comfortable in his presence.
The elf laughed at his comment. "Indeed. I can most likely think of a few others." He moved over to the edge of the deck and looked out over the waters, seemingly lost in thought, but then he spoke again. "I sincerely apologize for my state that night, and I give you my thanks for your help. If you hadn't intervened, I believe I may not have made it to the expedition today. I hope you will forgive my drunkenness."
"Of course," Farlin stepped beside him and also looked to the horizon, where the stars were beginning to glint in the sky. "I was doing my duty as a paladin. And I'm sure anyone would be as understanding, given your...circumstances." He deliberately avoided the topic, not wanting to anger or upset the night elf.
Tamri simply nodded slowly. "A most unfortunate set of events. Luckily, set right by you. And yet..." the elf tailed off, glancing over at Farlin with such intensity in his gaze that the paladin was taken aback slightly, "I sense all is not well. Something bothers you."
"Right now? I'm starving," Farlin joked, trying to make light of the elf's words. Inside, his heartbeat quickened as it always did when someone pried too far into his personal feelings – his secrets were always there, at the top of his mind, making him feel things he shouldn't, taunting him.
Taking the hint, Tamri looked away again, and Farlin relaxed a little. "Then we should take some food." The elf gestured towards the hold. "After you?"
Farlin grinned at the elf, trying to paint an image of calm and happiness on his face, before turning to cross the deck and clanking down the steps in his armour, following the well-trodden path to the mess hall. Dozens of sailors and soldiers were drinking and feasting merrily together, on four or five long tables set in the middle of the room.
"Farlin, over here!" Jared waved him over to the table on the far left, where he sat surrounded by four other soldiers, mug in hand and grinning heartily. Farlin waved and began to cross over to him, but Tamri grabbed him and whispered in his ear, "Be careful. Now is not the time. Remember that later – and try not to get as intoxicated as I did."
Farlin nodded at the elf, understanding him, and realising in that second that Tamri somehow knew his secret. Knew his innermost personal feelings. He must have some sort of extrasensory powers to be able to delve so deep into Farlin's heart and uncover what lay there. Fear gripped him, but not the fear of discovery – he knew instinctively the elf would never tell – more a thrill of excitement. He thought this reaction was unusual – he had expected that when someone knew about him, he would be gripped by terror and try to flee or strike out (or vomit.) But he felt none of those, only an overwhelming relief that the burden was shared and a tingling excitement at what might come next. Could the elf help him? Before his unspoken question could be asked, Tamri slipped away and disappeared into the shadows again. Farlin turned back to Jared's table and went to join his friend, slipping into a seat beside him and taking a piece of salted meat from a dish.
Later on that night, very tipsy from the rum and stumbling slightly, Farlin pushed back from the table where they had been exchanging stories all night and excused himself with a hiccough, claiming he needed a good night's rest. In reality there were only about four hours until they all had to be awake, but the paladin was unaware of that fact – time seemed to have passed quickly that evening. Smiling at them, he waved goodnight and walked unsteadily to his cabin. As he collapsed on his back in his swinging hammock, he heard footsteps at the door and saw his fellow paladin peering in at him. "'Night, Farlin," he said. "I'm off to bed now too."
"Come in for a sec," Farlin said, his vision slightly blurred, as two versions of Jared moved towards him and knelt by his hammock. "I c- I can barely see you..."
Jared laughed and brushed his friend's shoulder-length hair away from his face. "Can you see me better now?"
"Er.." Farlin, in his confused state, was distracted by the gentle touch of Jared's fingers, and it took him a moment to think of a response. "No," he decided finally.
"You need some sleep, mate. You've had a bit too much," Jared smirked. "I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight...Jared..." the paladin almost reached up to grab him, but checked his reflexes right at the last second. Tamri's warning surprisingly still rang clearly in his mind. Now was not the time. Would there ever be a time? He didn't know. For now, he smiled as Jared's receding back left his room, shut the door and left Farlin in darkness. He heard his friend enter the room next door to him and the gentle creak of floorboards as he removed his armour. Farlin hadn't even thought of doing such a thing, but now he staggered up and began to take it off – he would be unbelievably stiff in the morning if he did not sleep comfortably.
After undressing, Farlin crashed back down into his hammock and lay face-up, watching the ceiling. His mind was still swimming from the alcohol, and all he could hear was the floorboards in the next room moving as Jared did. Slowly, unconsciously, he reached down to his crotch and absent-mindedly scratched the small bulge in his pants that was beginning to emerge. Upon feeling what the sensation was, he reached into his waistband and took his member in his hand, stroking it gently, not really thinking about what he was doing but instead following a primal instinct.
He could hear Jared in the next room – he had finished undressing and was now crawling into his hammock. Farlin imagined what the other paladin would look like unclothed, standing before him. As the pictured formed in his mind, his ministrations increased in pace and ferocity, and his penis extended to its full length as his arousal grew. Somewhere in the back of his mind a voice cried out about the sheer wrongness of his actions but he didn't care, he was driven by a throbbing desire and four mugs of rum. He thought of Jared, lying there naked, his soft face in the darkness, his manhood aroused...and Farlin was there, and he walked over to Jared and he lay beside him, stroking him...
Farlin began to sweat with the intensity of the images that flooded his mind. "Fuck," he moaned quietly, aware that he would be heard if he did not control his volume. "Jared..." He was masturbating at full speed now, his cock pulsing with desire, his feelings freed and rushing to the surface. His fingers scraped the skin at the tip of his penis and he nearly cried out from the pleasure.
Now their passions were in full flow, and Jared was reciprocating his actions, touching his body. They were entwined in the hammock, their mouths connected, kissing with a need, a desperate heat that emanated from both of them. Farlin's erect member was rubbing against Jared's thigh, and the other paladin reached down and took it in his hand...
Farlin's other hand began to massage his balls, as his right continued to pump his erection. The images were filling his every thought now, blocking out everything apart from Jared, and Jared's face and his touch and his bulging penis, erect and begging for Farlin. The paladin imagined that his hand was Jared's hand, that it was his friend and his desire that was causing this mounting pleasure, and that was all he needed. He exploded all over himself, reaching sweet release as Jared filled his mind – Farlin was coming for him, the bursts of blissful pleasure coursing through his body at the thought of the other paladin's touch.
As he shuddered from the aftermath of the orgasm, Farlin began to sob. Even in his inebriated state he knew that what he had done was wrong, so horribly wrong. Tears flowed freely down his face, coagulating on his neck and forming cold, salty trails where they fell. He was sick with himself for giving in to such temptations – he was a paladin and a soldier of Stormwind, and it was wrong that he should feel such things for other men. And yet...as he thought of his friend once again, and how it would feel to have Jared touch him that way...his penis twitched again and he quickly shoved away all thoughts of that vein, fearful that he would not be able to control himself.
Still crying fitfully, Farlin stood up shakily and made his way to the small basin at the end of the room, washing his belly and his manhood in the cold water. When he was sufficiently clean, he collapsed back into his hammock, full of shame and guilt, and was soon fast asleep from the pure exhaustion of such an act combined with the amount of rum he had drunk that night.
Slow, heavy breathing could be heard from the next room. Jared was already asleep.
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20,000 Leagues Under the Sea