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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
- 21
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Chapter Twenty-Two – Nathaniel Conway
It was two days before they left the cave. Without the horse and still unwilling to have the undead Knight about, they were forced to walk. His body was frail before the sickness, now he was damn near an invalid. Forgoing his training as Ranger of Silvermoon, he let the others keep an eye out for danger and instead focused on the ground in front of him; one foot after the other.
“This is foolish,” Skang grumbled once again, it was his mantra these days. “If he cannot stomach flight then knock him out, it wouldn’t take much. We could be to the shamans in a day’s flight, they could heal him!”
“I’m not sick,” Nathaniel replied, “at least in ways your shamans could heal me.”
“You barely held anything down in days,” the orc snapped back, “I don’t know how you have the energy to walk, and I will not carry you.”
“You wouldn’t have to,” Foster answered.
“No one is going to have to carry me,” Nathaniel said as his feet betrayed him by stumbling. He grabbed Sara’s arm to stop himself from falling, knocking her off balance as well. Foster wrapped an arm around both before they could tumble.
“Break time,” he said.
Skang snorted but pointed to a nearby tree. The others followed and soon Nathaniel was gratefully sinking to the ground in the shade. Sara’s gentle hands traced his face, as she smiled at him. He returned the grin, and reached up to play with the black curls, which hung down her shoulders, the silky threads ran through his fingers as he dazed. “Open,” she said and his lips parted.
She placed a piece of bread in his mouth, he wanted to spit it out but she followed it up with the command to swallow and he did so. It felt like he had consumed sandpaper it hurt all the way down and he quickly blinked back tears as his fingers tightened around the locks he held.
“Ouch!” Sara cried out as she grabbed his hand.
Nathaniel’s cheeks burned as he let go and moved his fingers to the hem of his shirt peeking out from under his breastplate. “Sorry, Sis, I’m not hungry … may I have some water?”
“Open,” she said and his lips parted as she put another piece of bread in his lips. “You need more than water, bread is the only thing you’ve kept down,” her finger brushed his lip in a silent command and he closed them swallowing the bite he’d been given.
“It hurts,” he choked. “Please … water …”
“One more first,” she said. “Open …” After the bite he was offered the water and he drank from the canteen, enjoying the cool water on his tender throat. He fearfully eyed his sister as she tore off another piece of bread.
“Open,” the deep voice of Skang ordered above him and the elf obediently parted his lips with a ragged sigh. However the chunk of bread Sara held she put in her own mouth, Skang’s thick finger slid into his and he startled. It brought back memories, unwanted ones and he grabbed the wrist. “I know,” the orc said sympathetically, “but this medicine will help. Your throat is raw from all the vomiting you’ve been doing.” Nathaniel’s tongue began to tingle and grow numb. Surprised he started to suck on the finger and the blessed numbness entered his throat, cooling the burning.
The orc standing over him shuddered and pulled his finger out. “You’ve been taught well,” he said softly, brushing Nathaniel’s cheek with his thumb as he stood and moved away.
“Was that the only way to administer the medicine?” Foster growled.
“The best way for him,” Skang answered, as he wiped his hand off. “The elf has a habit of spitting it back out when he thinks we’re not looking.”
Nathaniel’s cheeks flushed and he wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his head. He could feel their eyes on him, their disappointment, he wanted to get better but Skang’s medicine was just so hideous tasting. It would linger on his tongue for hours even if he spit it out. The mere thought of it caused him to start to gag, a moment later he stumbled away from the others and threw up what little he had just ate. A hand on his shoulder startled him as Skang crouched down beside him where he knelt. “It will be okay, Nathaniel,” the orc said, and he appreciated being addressed by name.
Nodding his head in agreement, Nathaniel started to apologize when Skang clamped a hand firmly over his nose and mouth. The elf startled and froze for a moment. The palm was moist and smelled funny; it took a brief moment to recognize the scent as being similar to the drugs he’d been given before to put him asleep. And by then darkness was already dulling his senses. The orc had put some sort of potion on his hand that was forcing slumber on him, which meant … they were going to fly … panic set in as the shadows descended. He clawed at the hand covering his mouth, drawing blood but the orc didn’t flinch. Foster had promised, behind him he could hear his brother chanting, opening the death gate for his bone griffon. Nathaniel screamed in terror, the hand muffled the noise.
“I’m sorry,” Skang said, “but I won’t deliver a corpse to your mother. When you wake you’ll be safe, I promise.”
In one last desperate act he bit down on the hand that was sending him to his nightmares, Skang grunted but held on until darkness won. Nathaniel heard the cruel laughter of his master, where he waited in the shadows of his mind.
It was there in the madness that she found him, curled up in the shower, quivering in fear. He wasn’t sure how long she stood there before he noticed her, took even longer to realize the hate filled words of Vance had been silenced. The woman was beautiful to look at, her whole body radiated with light. And in that brightness, the shadows stood no chance and slowly they fled until it was just him and her. He was afraid to speak, afraid if he did so she would vanish and take the light with her.
“My poor, lost child …” She spoke tenderly, kneeling, the dress she wore spilled out from her, and he could feel it on his bare legs, embracing him with warmth.
“Mother?” he whispered, hating how harsh his voice sounded compared to hers.
“I have been called that name,” the woman said, her fingers traced his cheek. She seemed to grow in size, and a moment later picked him up from where he cowered with ease. She sat him on her lap; he nestled there like a small child. The being’s left breast was bare; from the nipple he could see droplets of milk. “Drink,” she said, “let me feed you, my starving little one.”
A tiny thread of reason screamed at him, but as his lips closed around her breast and startled to suckle it was silenced. The warmth that entered him; calmed his fears and he sighed contently as his fingers curled around the ivory white curls that cascaded over his face. As he drank her milk, he passed between consciousness and slumber. She sung lullabies of his childhood as he slept and spoke words of encouragement when he woke. He found it impossible to fear in her embrace, there was little concept of time.
During a moment of wakefulness he pulled his lips from her nipple and whispered contently, “I’m full.” She smiled lovingly at him and he found himself out of her lap as she stood. Fear returned and he cried out for her not to leave. “You are as healed as I can make you, my little lost one,” she said. “It is time for you to awake; the others are waiting for you.”
“I don’t want to leave!” he cried. “Please, let me stay …”
She smiled sadly at him. “I love you, my little lost one, be strong for someday you will be found by one that will love you as strongly as I. Now wake up, your brother needs you …”
“Brother …” Nathaniel blinked, “yes I have … Foster.”
The woman vanished and the shadows returned. Though this time fear did not accompany them nor did the ghosts from his past. It was just dark and he slept. He awoke to the murmuring of voices, he lay still and listened. At first he didn’t recognize the words being said, then realized it was Orcish. Even then it was hard for him to understand. A word did come through, “Nignath” and his eyes flew open and then quickly closed from the bright light flooding in from a nearby window.
“He’s awake!” Skang shouted and Nathaniel opened his eyes once more, this time the light from the window was being blocked by the hulking form of the orc rogue, whose face was a mask of relief.
A second form moved into his sight, it was an orc female whose long black hair was pulled up into a high ponytail. She smiled kindly at him, her lips curling around small tusks. “You have been asleep for a long time, Nathaniel,” she said wiping his face with a cool cloth. “I was afraid the Earth Mother was going to keep your heart forever.”
Nathaniel glanced around as his eyes adjusted to the light; they were in a small room. Looked to be just the three of them, he tried to ask about his siblings but his mouth was dry and words wouldn’t form. A look of panic crossed Skang’s face and he tersely shook his head as if to silence him. “Sister,” he said, “go find him some water.”
“Me?” she replied rising an eyebrow, “I’m the healer … you are the gopher …”
“Please,” Skang said, “he’s been slumbering for a long time I wish to speak to him.”
The female orc rolled her eyes and nodded. “All right,” she said, “but don’t move him, never before have I seen the Earth Mother keep one in her embrace for so long only to let him go. He will be weak.”
“What’s new?” Nathaniel thought to himself but to his surprise he didn’t feel weak. The exact opposite was true, he felt revitalized. The gnawing fear that had been a part of him for so long was gone. The serenity he had felt in his dreams remained.
A touch on his cheek startled him and he realized Skang’s thumb had brushed away a tear. He didn’t have his voice yet to explain it was from happiness. “She doesn’t know of your brother’s fate, he and Sara are hiding in a cave out in the Badlands. He has requested she never learn of him. You talk in your sleep though so she has figured out who you are, and is overjoyed. I have told her of Foster’s first death, that is where his story ends for her. As for your story, I found you injured on my travels and brought you here. It was just the fates shining in our favor that my sister would be here as well.”
“How long?” Nathaniel startled at his own voice, it sounded different to him.
Skang studied him for a long moment, behind him Nignath reappeared. She had a glass in her hand. As he watched she twisted a handkerchief into a spiral and dipped it into the cup. “Open,” she said and his lips parted. Afterwards she took the wet cloth and put it into his mouth, the cool water tasted wonderful and he sucked on the fabric until it was drained. She repeated the move twice more before setting the cup down. Shooing Skang off the bed, she went to pull down the blanket that covered him, he tried to move his hands to stop her but they would barely move. Frowning he focused his attention on his left hand, forcing his fingers to curl into a fist took a long moment.
Nignath in the meantime pulled the blanket off completely and he realized he was nude under her watchful eye. A spark of shame ignited at her viewing his scarred flesh and his cheeks flushed. She said something to Skang and he left the room, only to return a moment later with a basin. Together the two Orcs washed him down; at one point he was picked up and cradled in Skang’s arms as his bedding was changed.
“I want to show you something,” the orc said. He walked over to a large mirror resting near the wall. “As I mentioned before, we Orcs wear our scars like trophies. Look in the mirror, Nathaniel.”
Sighing he glanced at his reflection, he hated the scars he bore. The pale elf looking back at him was still grossly underweight but the blonde hair was pulled back in a single braid and the fair skin across his chest was flawless. He gasped and reached a hand out to the reflection. The burns and whip marks were gone from his abdomen, a quick glance showed his arms and legs the same. He tried to turn and the orc who held him chuckled and gently adjusted him in his arms so he could see his back and ass were also healed. Tears fell as he whispered his thanks. Then it dawned on him, his hair was long enough to braid. “How long?” he asked again, his voice stronger.
“You’ve kept my family in this hell hole for three months, elf,” a new gruff voice said and Nathaniel startled. In the doorway stood a hulking orc form, the fear quickly evaporated when he noticed a small child resting on the newcomer’s shoulder. Nignath confirmed his suspicions when she walked over and kissed her husband on the cheek.
“Be nice, Legor,” she said, “We stayed because we wanted to.”
The orc snorted. “Ever try to move a mountain?” he said, “would have been easier than getting my mate to leave your side.”
“I appreciate your kindness,” Nathaniel said as Skang laid him back into the bed. “I’m truly sorry for any hardship it has caused.” Three months, had he slept three months away in the embrace of the woman in his dreams? Had his brother and sister truly lived in a cave for all that time waiting?
“You’re frightening him,” Nignath scolded, “look at that frown. There is nothing to fear, Nathaniel” she said kindly, “he’s all bark very little bite.”
The small orc on Legor’s shoulder squirmed and he set the child down. The child orc wore a simple dress as she ran over and crawled up beside him. “You wake up!” she said with a smile.
“That I did,” Nathaniel said. “Your mother took good care of me.”
“I did very little,” Nignath said, “by the time you reached us, the plague had already gone beyond my powers to heal. All we could do was give you over to the Earth Mother’s care and pray. At first there was very little change and then you started to heal. Old scars vanished before our eyes, it was truly magical. Your will to live is strong, must be a family trait.”
“Plague?” Nathaniel wondered aloud, “Where did I …” his voice fell silent as Foster came to mind and the battle with the black dragon. There had been a moment when his neck had been so cold it burned, had he accidently been caught in one of his brother’s unholy attacks?
“In these troubled times it could have been something you ate,” Nignath said, picking up her daughter who was playing with Nathaniel’s braid. “You have been quarantined since your arrival, my aid and my family’s stubbornness to stay with me has meant we are also banned from leaving this building.”
“You’ve been in here for three months?” Nathaniel asked, stifling a yawn.
“We find ways to pass the time,” Legor said slyly. He wrapped a hand around his wife and affectionately rubbed her belly. Nathaniel noticed a slight bump and his thoughts went to Sara who was in a similar situation.
“I owe you much,” Nathaniel said.
“You’re just allowing me to pay back an old debt,” Nignath said softly.
“Momma, I have the broth you requested.” The newcomer had the emerald skin of his mother, but the build and black hair of his father. Nathaniel’s pulse quickened, as the younger orc walked toward him, bowl in hand. Foster’s eyes looked down at him.
“Throm'ka, Thomas,” he said.
The boy smiled, revealing two small tusks. “Throm'ka, Uncle Nathaniel,” he said, brightly.
Raising an eyebrow he glanced over at Nignath. “He’s always known about his father,” she replied. Skang grabbed Nathaniel behind and sat him up, then moved to sit behind to act as a backrest. The sudden move caused his head to spin and he closed his eyes resting his head against the orc’s neck, waiting for the dizziness to pass. “Easy,” Nignath cautioned, “he’s very weak. Your muscles have had very little use for a while, Nathaniel.”
“Wondered why my arms wouldn’t obey me,” Nathaniel said as Skang took the bowl from Thomas.
“Open,” the orc whispered as he lifted a spoon.
The warm broth tasted good but after only a half dozen bites he was exhausted and closed his eyes. He awoke to find the room dark, at first he thought he was alone then noticed his fingers wrapped around long strands of hair, glancing over he saw the top of a head at the side of his bed. Bright eyes found his and Thomas smiled. The boy reached back and untangled his hair from Nathaniel’s fingers.
“You were calmer during your healing sleep when you held onto one of us,” Thomas whispered, taking Nathaniel’s hand in his own. “So we take turns.”
Nathaniel nodded his understanding and licked his dry lips a move that wasn’t missed by his young caregiver. As his mother had done earlier, Thomas dipped a cloth into water and then placed it into Nathaniel’s mouth letting him drink the cool liquid. “I should wake Ma she wanted me to if you woke up.”
Tightening his fingers around the hand of the other, Nathaniel shook his head. “Let her sleep,” he whispered, “I’m okay.”
“You’re getting your strength back,” Thomas said easily breaking the weak hold on his wrist. “That’s a good sign, but you’re not the one that will have to deal with Ma’s wrath if I don’t do as she said, be right back.”
Nathaniel watched him exit the darken room and then after flexing his hands a couple more times tried to force his body to sit up. Clawing at the blankets in a futile attempt help he barely got his shoulders off the bed before collapsing, covered in sweat.
“Don’t make me tie you down,” Nignath said as she appeared candle in hand.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, his voice sounded stronger. “I’ve been idle for way too long, I need to …”
“Take it easy,” Nignath said, as she pulled his blanket down leaving him naked. For the briefest moment he tensed, then remembering he was no longer marked, relaxed.
“Thank you for healing my scars,” he said.
“It wasn’t me,” Nignath said, her strong fingers rubbed his arm, massaging it. “A gift from the Earth Mother as you rested in her embrace, they started vanishing about a month ago. It was quite remarkable. Do you remember anything from that time?”
“Beauty, warmth, feeling safe for the first time in a very long time … I didn’t want to leave but she said I had to, then I remembered … duties I need to attend to here.”
Nignath nodded as her hands moved to his other arm. She gently massaged his entire body, he could feel her magic enter him at the same time, strengthening and soothing. As her hands moved from his chest to his waist he stiffened. “I’m sorry for the cruelty you suffered,” she said, as her thumbs rubbed gentle circles on his abdomen, so very similar to what his brother would do. Her hands slid down his sides, and around his left thigh. The orc maiden was very careful not to touch him in any way sensual and soon his fear left and he let himself enjoy her touch.
Afterwards she pulled the blanket back up to his waist and bent down; wrapping his arms around her neck she whispered for him to hold on and slowly sat him up. Nathaniel clutched tightly as his head spun, waiting for the dizziness to pass. Pillows were moved behind to prop him up, but Nignath held onto him for a long moment and Nathaniel felt wetness on his cheek, she was crying. He stiffened and she pulled back, smiling through her tears. “They are from joy,” she said, “I was so afraid you would never awaken. You were so very special to your brother; he would speak often of you. I could not save Foster but I am overjoyed I could aid in healing the one that meant so much to him.” Patting him on the leg she stood, brushing a hand across her face. “All right,” she said, “let us get some nourishment in you so you, can’t have you returning home looking like that. Your mother would be very unhappy.”
Nathaniel smiled at the sentiment that had once been echoed by Foster, if fates had been kinder … he shook his head slightly, there was no need wasting energy thinking down that path. “I’m starving,” he said instead, “have any smoked boar?”
Nignath laughed, “Afraid not for you, if you hold down the chicken broth perhaps I’ll move you up to applesauce.”
“Sounds delicious,” Nathaniel replied.
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