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Forsaken Forborne	By : Sealink Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 6833 -:- 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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Galen opened his eyes, staring blearily up at a ceiling
draped with blue silks and organza. He recognized the charmed coronas of the Silvermoon City inn; they were enchanted to drop stardust
on the bed�s dreaming occupant.
�You�re awake.�
He turned his head to face the speaker, finding Tamsin sitting at his bedside. Her black eyes were blank
and unreadable, but he thought he detected a note of relief in her voice. �How
long have I been sleeping?� he mumbled, trying to sit up. His meager strength
got him halfway there before Tamsin�s bony fingers
pressed him back down into the bed. He was almost relieved, and his eyes
drifted closed again before his head reached the pillow.
Tamsin smiled at the sleeping
elf. �Rest, paladin. Azeroth
can survive without you for another day.� He was asleep again before she
finished the sentence, and she felt his exhaustion reach her as well. He hadn�t
seemed to notice that he was unclothed; armor could not be worn in a bed, of
course, and his half-delirious ramblings as his drained mana
began to take its toll had not helped. At last, she had used a small vial of
sleeping draught to stop his madness; he had been sleeping normally now for
several hours.
The temptation to look over her charge was nearly
irresistible. Her removal of his clothes during his initial bed rest had been
very impersonal, but now, with plenty of time on her hands to think about it,
she found herself wishing she had paid more attention. On the one hand, she was
his healer, the one who was nursing him back to health. On the other, the paladin
stirred a sleeping desire in her, a longing to spend time with someone,
something she hadn�t felt since she was alive. At last, she had satisfied her
curiosity with a quick fluff of his sheets, catching just enough of a glimpse
to tantalize, and not enough to fully disclose.
The Undead priest had garnered more than a few stares as
she entered Silvermoon City with a half-dead paladin
leaning on her; she knew that Galen was probably too out of it to notice. The Forsaken
benefitted, or suffered from, depending on the speaker, the keen senses that
were denied living things. She saw the tightening of a Guardian�s grip around
his swallowblades, heard the small gasp of disgust of
one of the Silvermoon vendors, felt the distrustful
stares as surely as screws tightening into her back. Even at the alchemists�
supply, those who also plied her trade were fearful of her, and only the master
alchemist would deal with her. He had been cold, but nonjudgmental, and she
thanked him graciously. It was tough being an undead in a city that was
half-destroyed by the Scourge. She wondered if there was anything the Forsaken
could ever do that might silence their detractors once and for all. Besides kill them, of course, she added
to herself.
The next morning found him much more rested. He felt
lucky to have escaped with his wits, and thanked the heavens he had noticed
before it had gone on too long. Those who became Wretched, mastered by their
addictions, often fed on others around them, be they wyrm,
animal or other elves. In the past, it had been shown that if a Wretched fed on
one with a mana addiction, then the victim all too
often descended into the ranks of the Wretched himself.
He felt the need almost as soon as he awoke,
the burning desire for mana that preyed on his
thoughts. Tamsin was still sitting next to him,
seeming as if she hadn�t moved since the day before. Her black eyes watched him
anxiously and he immediately grew concerned.
�Didn�t you sleep?�
�A little.� Another cryptic
smile touched her face. �You forget that I am undead and do not need sleep.�
�So why sleep at all?�
�It�s a force of habit.� She shrugged and reached out to
feel his hands, narrowing her dark eyes as she took his fingers. �You�re
sweating on your palms.�
Galen looked at her, smelling the magic on her, the dusty
smell of the magical Plague, the fresh, cool fragrance of her healing Light. It sang to him, a siren�s song, luring him
with the promise of relief and normalcy. It was only a little mana, and she was an undead, she didn�t need it like he needed it. She would be fine without mana for a while, and then things would be back to normal;
he would go on with his life and she with hers, and no one ever need know. It
was only a little mana.
�Galen, what are you doing?� Her voice had changed from
the soothing murmur of a healer to a harder, suspicious tone.
He realized his hand was outstretched toward her, and he
snatched it back as if burned. �Nothing.�
She stood, raising her hands over him, and then a
chilling glow settled on him, soothing the mana fever
that had maddened him. He breathed out slowly as the need faded, and looked at
her, ashamed of himself. �A moment
of weakness. Forgive me.�
�You need not ask forgiveness of me. We are all weak
beings.� And he heard the truth in her voice, without judgment, and he wondered
what her weakness was that she could hand out clemency so freely.
Tamsin, for her part, had been
watching for the signs of withdrawal in the elf, warned to it by the innkeeper,
who had kindly offered to procure a small mana wyrm for his use when he awoke. Tamsin
now regretted her refusal, if only because seeing someone in the grip of a
force beyond their control was both frightening and humbling. She hoped that
the skeletons in her closet had enough sense to stay dead.
�I take it your business in the Ghostlands
is concluded?� Her question was innocent enough, but Galen heard her asking
after his slapdash appearance on the bat. He nodded. �I don�t think there is a
reason for me to return,� he replied evasively.
�In fact, I need to go see Lord Bloodvalor,�
he said, sitting up and making as if he was going to get out of bed. As the
sheet fell away from his bared chest, he became fully aware of his nudity.
�Did you undress me?� he ventured cautiously.
�Of course. You were fevered and
weak.� There was no hint of scandal in her words. Why did he feel a little
disappointed?
�My thanks again. You have taken
care of me twice now, having barely known me.�
�It has always been my job to take care of those who can�t,
or won�t take care of themselves.�
�I can take care of myself,� Galen snorted, but he
couldn�t find an excuse to explain his weakened state on the bat. After
grasping at straws for a moment, he scowled and snatched the shirt she offered
him.
Tamsin looked amused, her cheeks rounding as she demurely quashed her
grin. �Of course.�

oOo

�That is� unfortunate.� Knight-Lord Bloodvalor
frowned as he took in the fullness of Galen�s report. His long eyebrows drew
together in a frown. �I apologize, Galen, for sending you into such a perilous
situation.�
�You had no way of knowing, my Lord,� Galen said,
excusing the incident, although he was barely recovered from it. Tamsin was waiting outside, despite his protestations; she
insisted that she would not leave him until she was sure he was recovered
fully. Galen wasn�t sure how to react to that. At first, he was still very
uneasy around her; waking nude in the presence of the undead was more than enough
stress for him. And on the other hand, she seemed so gentle, so in
tune with the Light she wielded. She
might be both a curse and a treasure, he thought.
�Mmm, indeed,� the dark-haired
paladin grumbled, �It makes things rather difficult for me. Dangerous as it is,
we need Auriferous down there. She has a rapport with the Forsaken that is hard
to replace.� And though Galen was initially outraged that such
a creature remain in power, he could not argue with the champion; his
point was well made. Those who went to the Ghostlands
willingly were few and far between, and Auriferous seemed to enjoy both the
seclusion and the power.
�There�s nothing I can do, Galen, to restrain her until
it becomes more serious,� Bloodvalor said, �But I
will change your assignment.� There was a subtle nod of his head over Galen�s
shoulder, and Galen turned his head to look.
Tamsin was slowly pacing
outside the Paladin Headquarters, her hands laced together behind her back. The
morning sun caught her hair, glimmering in the teal strands, and her skin was
made so white as to appear to glow. The bones in her arms didn�t look nearly as
grotesque when so lit by the sun, and she tilted her face back, looking
heavenward. Galen whipped his head back around, looking at his champion, who
speared him with a knowing smile. �I have heard that the Regent is looking for
assistance that might be right up your alley,� he said.
�My Lord�!�
�I am confident in your abilities, Silverdawn.�
He handed the younger paladin a small scroll, neatly tied with a gold-edged red
ribbon. Galen took the scroll, and the champion�s sword-roughened hand remained
extended. Galen clasped him about the forearm, feeling the other man�s fingers
wrap around his arm at his elbow, and the firm grip that accompanied the
handshake.
�Al diel shala,� the champion
said, and Galen nodded sharply.
�I will not fail you, my lord.�
Tamsin fell in step with him as
he strode out of the headquarters, squinting against the brightness of the sun.
�You look� purposeful,� she commented, as they covered the ground toward Farstriders� Square.
�I am. My Lord Bloodvalor has
sent me to see the Regent Lor�themar Theron. There may be something I can do for him.� He held
up the scroll with its red ribbon and saluted Tamsin with
it, his jaunty gait making her rush to keep up. As if his ego needed any more polishing,
thought Tamsin.
�It sounds like you�re being sent off to run an errand no
one else wanted to do,� Tamsin remarked snidely, and
Galen stopped mid-step, staring at her. She chuckled and grabbed his arm,
tugging it. �Don�t get bent out of shape. It just means he knows he can count
on you even when the job isn�t something like brushing your hair.�
�I suppose,� Galen huffed, still only slightly appeased
by the addendum.
�Where is your Regent?� she asked, and Galen paused. An Undead walking into the Court of the Sun? Right
up to the throne room and into the presence of the Regent himself? He
looked at her again, and the sunlight dappled across her face as they climbed
the stairs to the Court of the Sun. He gritted his teeth. It might not be
advisable, or even safe, but he was not about to refuse her after she had saved
his life. Twice, an annoying voice in
the back of his head reminded him.
The Court of the Sun was a magnificent place at midday,
banners of red streaming from balconies and the tops of walls, their golden
glyphs shimmering even in the shade. The Palace was near the end of the Court,
and their walk toward it was enjoyable, but even Galen did not miss some of the
stares Tamsin got. The Forsaken Priest either did not
notice the vitriolic glances her way, or she did not care. Galen fervently
hoped it was the latter.
Tamsin had indeed noted the
glares directed toward her, but she chose to ignore them. Let one of them fall
ill, and she would still heal them; it was her calling, and she could refuse it
no more readily than a blood elf could refuse mana. Her
boots made no sound on the red carpeting leading up into the palace; Galen
jingled softly with every step.
The Guardians did not move to intercept them as they
walked past, but as they entered the Regent�s chamber, the small scrape of a
blade against the wall announced the presence of two of the palatial Guardians;
their swallow-blades crossed before them.
�Let us pass,� Galen said in an annoyed voice.
The blades remained crossed, and one Guardian turned his
head to the sunken floor beyond. Curtained by white gossamer, the Regent was in
conference with one of his advisors, his pale head bent over a set of plans.
�I said, let us pass!� Galen repeated loudly, and Tamsin put her hand on his shoulder. �Galen,� she said
apprehensively, �Maybe we should come back another time.� Her dark eyes darted
to the face of the Guardian nearest her, and she saw only distrust and hatred,
his strong jaw set and lips pursed until they were bloodless.
He lifted the scroll and waved it at her. �Don�t be
silly, Tamsin, we have official business-Hey!� he
shouted as one of the Guardians plucked the scroll from his hand.
�Give that back! That�s strictly
between me and the Regent!� The offending Guardian passed it off to another
Guardian, who walked boldly between the translucent silks. The swallow-blades
grazed each other, their threatening ring echoing in the large space. Galen glared
at the Guardian, who stared back at him, nonplussed.
A thin hand parted the curtains, and Lor�themar
Theron stepped through them, his red and gold armor
looking decidedly overworn. His face was tired, but
somehow, he still carried himself proudly. He held in his hand the unraveled
scroll, red ribbon discarded. His keen eyes missed little in his inspection of
their persons, but he was especially attentive to Galen�s companion; his eyes
lingered on Tamsin, a little too long for her taste.
At last, he raised a hand, and the swallow-blades lifted.
�What brings you here, paladin?�
�Knight-Lord Bloodvalor sent me
with that scroll, your Excellency.� Galen dipped his head, and after a moment, Tamsin followed his lead, bobbing a curtsey.
�Few blood elves travel with undead,� Lor�themar
said plainly, turning his green eyes on Tamsin again.
�I am a healer, your Excellency,� Tamsin
said, cutting off Galen before he could interject.
�But still an undead.� The
phrase was delivered dismissively, as if her value as a healer would never be
enough to make up for her undeath.
�I did not choose what I am, your
Excellency,� Tamsin snapped. The Regent digested this
small outburst, and then looked down at the scroll again. �You were sent by
Lord Bloodvalor, you said?�
�Yes, your Excellency,� Galen
replied, sliding a look at Tamsin under lowered
lashes. Her breathing was distressed and she trembled, but whether it was from
fear or anger he could not tell.
�Why would Lord Bloodvalor send
you here? He must know that I am extremely busy.� Lor�theron
came across as annoyed, but Tamsin wondered if he
really was, or if he was just playing with them.
�He said that you might have work for me to do that would
be right up my alley, Excellency,� Galen said, and he tried to read Lor�themar�s reaction. At first, the Regent�s face was
blank, but then it brightened with sudden understanding.
�Of course!� he exclaimed, stepping between the two and
welcoming them into his sanctum. �You can
help me, a great deal!� Galen looked relieved, but Tamsin
remained stoic.
�I see now why Bloodvalor sent
you,� Lor�theron said, glancing briefly at Tamsin. �Your rapport with the Undead will be of great
service to you in Lordaeron.� With this, the Regent
stepped into an adjoining room, which was lit by a diffuse crimson light.
�Lordaeron?�
Galen swallowed, hoping he had misheard.
�Indeed,� said the Regent, walking the unlikely pair up a
set of spiral stairs to a large red orb in a golden stand. In the red light of
a translocation orb, Galen thought the Regent looked absolutely diabolical. Regent
Theron smiled broadly and handed him a small packet
of paper, before clapping him on the back and walking down the stairs. �The Undercity awaits you, paladin!�
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Forsaken Forborne