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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.

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Chapter Thirty-Three – Nathaniel Conway
The clock ticking and the suckling of Violet were the only noises, gave him plenty of quiet to think about the disaster called his life. Where had he been going? To Foster was the obvious answer but a foolish one, he had no way to board the boats to Northrend and if he had, he’d starved to death before reaching port. He had hoped survival instincts would kick in, but as the days passed, the cheese he bought had sat uneaten until he gave it to an unhappy Omelet. He wondered when the raptor had broken free; the last day had been a fog, a welcomed one though. Hoping through it he would be led back to the woman in white but she had left him as well it seemed taking the peace she had brought.
Heavy footsteps in the hall alerted him of his father’s return, just as it had warned him earlier giving him time to hide … a lot of good that had done. He stood and walked to the door opening it. Glancing at the tray in his father’s hands and without meeting his eyes, he turned and moved back into the room. Grabbing the small nightstand, he carefully shifted it so it rested in front of his sister. He played with the edge of the blanket for a moment before sitting back down in the chair. Pa set the tray down in front of Sara, the room was painfully quiet. Taking a calming breath Nathaniel said, “I’m sorry, Pa, thanks for looking for me and for coming back.” Callused fingers reached under his chin and lifted his face so their eyes met. Pa looked as old as the grey hair on his head. There were no words offered, only the kindness reflected in the eyes studying him. Tears stung and he blinked to stop them, but they fell anyway. A rough thumb brushed them away on his left cheek.
“Okay, Baby Boy,” Pa said. “I have an idea, but first we need to get some broth into you and get you back into bed. Can you do that for me?”
“I can try,” Nathaniel replied. His pa hadn’t called him his baby boy in decades, Nathaniel couldn’t figure out if it was endearing or condescending.
Sitting down on the bed beside Sara, Pa picked up a mug and looked indecisive. “Do I hold it or can you?” he asked after a moment.
“I can,” Nathaniel said, taking the mug. It was warm in his hands. He brought it to his lips, the smell made his stomach rumble.
“Open,” Pa said. Taking a drink, he winced at the scalding hot liquid. Pa oblivious of his pain followed with, “swallow.” He did as ordered but it burnt all the way down. His pain was obvious. “Son?” Pa asked.
“It’s hot,” Sara replied, “Damn it …”
The mug was taken from his hand and Pa held up a glass of water to his burnt lips. “Open,” he said. He drank the cool water, it soothed his scalded tongue. “Why didn’t you say something?” Pa sighed, taking up the mug once more and blowing on it.
“I …” Nathaniel shrugged helplessly, “you said swallow … I swallow … sorry Pa I really am trying.   It’s going against instinct to deny verbal commands, reason is screaming one thing in my head but my heart is too whipped to listen. Once, my Mast … Vance was drunk, he found a spider … told me to open … I couldn’t stop … I can still hear his laugh when he told me swallow …”
“Suddenly I’m not very hungry anymore,” Sara said putting down her spoon.
Nathaniel kept his eyes down on his hands folded in front of him. He didn’t want to see their disgust or pity. Pa placed the cooled mug into his hands. “Try again, son,” he said, “you have to eat.”
This time the cooled broth went down easily and with Pa’s help he quickly drained the cup. “I’m still hungry,” he said after it was empty, “think I can have some bread?”
Sara tore a piece off her roll and said, “open.” He parted his lips and she placed it in his mouth. “Swallow.”
After the roll was finished off, Pa gestured toward the bed. “Get some sleep, son. I need to go tend to some matters, but I will be back tomorrow. Please be here.”
“I will, Pa,” Nathaniel said standing. Pa embraced him and then asked Sara to walk him to the lobby. After they had left, Nathaniel walked over to the corner and retrieved Foster’s ponytail. Weaving it around his fingers he crawled under the warm comforter of the bed, after sleeping outside for the past few nights it felt like heaven. A pang of guilt hit when he thought of poor Omelet suffering with him. He hoped the raptor was enjoying the stables. He was on the verge of sleep when he sensed Sara outside the door, she was talking to someone he didn’t know. With his acute hearing it was easy to eavesdrop, when it became clear his sister wasn’t concerned he let sleep take him.
His sleep was anything but peaceful and he was almost relieved when he awoke to find morning had come. Sitting up he glanced around, the room was empty, frowning he got up, his body weakened by the past couple of days complained as he walked over to the chamber pot. Afterwards he checked out his clothes, they were dry but smelled something fierce. Putting the shirt back, he walked over to the wardrobe and opened it. Inside were a few dresses of Sara’s, he absently played with the fabric as his mind betrayed him once more with bad memories. A knock on the door broke him out of his musing. Concentrating he tried to sense who was there, the cologne he wore gave Arthur, Sara’s friend, away. Shutting the wardrobe, he pulled the blanket around his waist and opened the door. The rogue looked surprised to see him. “Ah it’s good to see you up and about,” he said, “may I speak to your lovely sister?”
“She’s not here,” Nathaniel said, “I’m not sure where she is.” Glancing around the room, he saw Sara’s dinner still half eaten on the nightstand. He frowned, the powder she had knocked over yesterday while changing Violet still rested on its side meaning she hadn’t changed a diaper yet today. “Sir,” he said, “I’m worried, I don’t think she slept here last night, she wouldn’t have left without Violet’s things. Can you go check with the innkeeper see if they know where she is?” As he talked he walked over to his clothes, letting the blanket fall he started getting dressed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Arthur asked. “Get that skinny ass back in bed, one of us has to stay here in case she gets back. And I’m pretty sure Lady Beth said you were on bed rest.”
“I’m a Farstrider of Silvermoon,” Nathaniel said, “I can follow tracks two weeks old!”
“And I’m a rogue,” Arthur replied, “I know seventeen different ways to immobilize a person … care to see one?”
A year ago, he would have accepted that challenge, Nathaniel knew now he was no match for the rogue and held up his hands in defeat. “Do you know the Farstrider’s whistle for all clear?”
“And why would I need to?” Arthur asked, annoyance creeping into his voice.
Nathaniel let out three shrill whistles in short succession followed by a longer forth. “If you hear that it means she came back. You’ll hear it no matter where you are, if you’re within the city limits.”
The rogue rubbed his ears and grumbled, “Perhaps if you hadn’t just deafened me.” The bald human gestured toward the bed, “into bed now before I tie you to it.”
Retreating to the bed, Nathaniel said, “She was talking to someone outside the door last night after seeing Pa off. It was a male voice, I wasn’t familiar with it but she didn’t seem alarmed.”
Arthur nodded and then to Nathaniel’s dismay picked up the elf’s dirty clothes. “I’ll take these downstairs to be washed,” the rogue said, “you try to get some rest and don’t worry Sara is a hardy gal she can take care of herself. She probably just got distracted and lost track of time.”
Nathaniel sighed knowing arguing with the rogue would do no good. Rolling over on his side, he waited until he heard the door shut and then remained still until he could hear the faint steps of the rogue disappear down the hall. After counting to hundred he got up and walked over to the wardrobe once more. “Sorry, Big Brother,” he whispered as he pulled a simple cotton dress off its hanger. “It’s just clothing, and beats walking around naked,” he told himself slipping it on. Easily fastening the back of the dress, he had to cinch the belt tight. He was taller than Sara but slimmer. The slippers in the closet were too small so he went without. Finding a head scarf he tied it over his head hiding his ears. Over all of it he put a cloak, shielding his face. Regardless what his old master thought, to him he still look like a guy in a dress. But at least from a distance no one would look twice. Avoiding looking into the mirror, he stepped out into the hall. The cologne was still heavy in the air; obviously the rogue master didn’t rely on stealth as a day to day survival skill.
Glancing around the hall, he noticed little out of place, if she had been in trouble she would have yelled, made a noise. As he walked down the hall his sensitive nose picked up a scent and he paused. Taking a breath, he caught the smell again of something sweet; it was a familiar scent to the elf, chloroform. Swallowing panic he continued to search the area. The doorframe beside Sara’s had scratch marks in the wood on the right side. She would have been holding Violet in her left. Splinters still rested on the carpet so the marks were new. Listening he heard no noise inside the room. Closing his eyes, he reached out with his Ranger taught ability to sense what he couldn’t see. There was someone inside but he couldn’t tell who, with little other choice he knocked on the door.
Heavy footsteps approached the door and he readied himself. The man that answered the door stunk of ale and he eyed Nathaniel up and down. “You’re early, girl, I won’t pay extra … I don’t give a shit what time you get here as long as you can suck cock.”
The man opened the door wider and Nathaniel stepped inside. The room looked the same as his sister’s, a large bed, wardrobe some night stands and a desk. Lying at the foot of the bed was a small pink blanket. The elf walked over to it. “In a hurry to get into bed,” the man said, “good, I don’t want to waste time.”
Nathaniel bent down and picked up the small blanket. The large man was struggling to get out of his clothes. “Get over here and help me, slut!” he said.
A tremble ran down Nathaniel’s back at the word but he tightened his hold on the quilt and marched over to the man who had the shirt over his head. Strapped to the belt around the fat belly was a wicked looking knife. Nathaniel slipped it from the sheath and quickly spun the shocked man around holding the blade to his throat. “One question and you best answer it or only one sucking your cock will be you when I cut it off and stuff it in your throat. Where is the baby this blanket belongs to and her Mother?”
The man sputtered and Nathaniel pressed the blade against the skin drawing blood. “I know I speak Common quite well … answer me, human.”
“You’re an elf?” the man gasped.
Pressing a knee into the man’s groin Nathaniel said, “wrong answer …”
“I don’t know!” the man pleaded, “He took them down to the docks.”
“Who?” Nathaniel growled.
“Chapman,” the man cried, “Bobby Chapman!”
The name meant nothing to the elf. “What did he want with my sister?”
“He’s not interested in the woman; she’s just a teat to keep the baby calm until he can find a buyer.”
Nathaniel’s blood chilled and his voice became deadly, “a buyer for what?”
“The babe of course,” the man said. “People pay good money for babies; she was a single woman what kind of life could she …”
Nathaniel’s fist slamming into the man’s face cut off the rest of the reply and his target howled. “Violet will grow up surrounded by love,” he said. Dragging the man over to the wardrobe, he opened and stuffed the guy inside. “I’m a hunter; I’m going to put a trap of live vipers outside this. I suggest you sit really still and not startle them.   They might find a way inside here.”
The man looked stricken as Nathaniel shut the door. He wedged it closed with the chair nearby. He had no clue how to set a viper trap, his Ranger training had never covered it, but the kidnapper didn’t know that. Locking the door behind him, he slipped the dagger he had taken from the man up the sleeve of the dress and hurried down the steps. The dwarven innkeeper called out to him but he ignored her and escaped outside into the busy street. Pulling the cloak tighter around, he quickly blended into the crowd. Fighting the urge to run in fear of drawing attention to himself he walked briskly moving in and out of the crowd. He followed the canal past the Cathedral to where it emptied into the docks.   To his dismay, the docks were full with various ships, all different sizes and shape; including the large icebreakers that would take troops up north to fight the Lich King.   He had no idea where to start. With little choice, he stopped the first dockworker he saw and asked softly to disguise his voice, “Excuse me sir, do you know a Mr. Bobby Chapman?”
The man shook his head and brushed him off. The next three men he asked did the same. The fourth pointed to a figure walking on one of the piers, “Go ask Leesha,” he said, “she’s the dock master, she knows everyone and everything going on in the harbor. Just watch your step, ma’am.”
Nathaniel whispered his thanks and walked toward the woman who was shouting orders toward a small sloop that was looking like it was getting close to set sail.
“Excuse me ma’am,” he said, once again softening his voice and hiding his face.
“This is no place for skirts,” the woman growled.
“I’m sorry,” Nathaniel said, “I’m looking for a man named Bobby Chapman …”
“I’m afraid you just missed him,” she said pointing the sloop pulling away, “that’s his ship The Black Grail, setting sail now.”
“Ma’am,” he said, “you have to stop that boat. He’s kidnapped my sister and her child.”
The woman looked over at him shocked. “That seems a bit far-fetched …”
Nathaniel let out the shrill whistle of aid of the Farstrider and it was returned from the ship. At least part of it was before it abruptly got cut off. In the distance coming from somewhere in town, it was echoed back as well. The docks were busy and the ship still had a ways to go until open water. Ignoring the dock master, he ran along the pier outdistancing the slow moving sloop that was working its way around an anchored galleon.   The gangway to the larger ship was down and the elf ran up it. Disregarding the shouts of the crew he raced across the deck and only paused a moment before leaping from the side and landing on the deck of the smaller boat below.
“Well look at that lads,” a rugged looking man said, “the women are throwing themselves at me now.”
“You have my sister and niece aboard,” Nathaniel said, “I demand you let them go.”
“Let them go?” the man said with a sneer. “I assure you, young lady, everyone aboard this ship wants to be here … including you, you just don’t know it yet.”
The scent of cologne reached him and Nathaniel grinned. “I’m not staying,” he said, “I just want my sister and Violet. I ask you again to release them.”
“I’m afraid you are staying,” the man said approaching, “we’re almost to open water and I wouldn’t let a little thing like you swim back to shore.”
Grabbing the hand reaching for him, Nathaniel wrapped his fingers around the wrist and twisted, at the same time he brought his foot up and slammed his knee into the man’s groin. Shoving the stunned man into another crewmember, he jumped up and nimbly grabbed the rigging pulled himself up onto the mast. Slipping the knife from his sleeve, he started sawing through the rigging. A shot rang out and the knife was knocked from his hand, the impact stung.
“None of that, pretty,” a new voice said.
Nathaniel glanced down to see a well-dressed man approaching; in his hand was a pistol. His long black hair was pulled back into a ponytail. “Captain Chapman, at your service,” he said with a bow. There was a creak and Nathaniel glanced over at where a sailor had climbed up on the boom and was working his way toward him. The elf moved back, the wood beneath his feet swaying. “You’re frightening her, Sully,” the captain said cheerfully. “Keep your distance, she can do no harm.”
Nathaniel glanced around the mainsail was still furled; there was no place for him to go. He needed to keep all eyes on him though, give Arthur time to find his sister. He started moving toward the mast as Sully worked his way down.
“That’s right, pretty,” the captain all but purred, “you come on down from there before you get hurt. We seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
Once he got to the mast, he quickly grabbed the rigging and started to climb. A bullet ricochet off the mast and splinters bit into his fingers. “Captain! That’s no woman!”
Too late Nathaniel realized the view from below would be straight up the skirt of the dress and he wasn’t wearing any underclothes. By now, he had made it to the gaff. He pulled himself up to the top of it and glanced down. The Captain had removed his shirt and was working his way up the mast. The knife Nathaniel had dropped earlier clenched in his teeth. The seamanship of the other showed as he effortlessly climbed. The elf moved gingerly across the gaff until he reached the end. Holding onto the rigging, he turned to face the captain.
“You are still very pretty,” the man said, after he’d taken the knife out of his mouth, “even if you do have a cock.”
“I know 42 ways to pleasure a male,” Nathaniel heard himself say.
“And you know how to piss them off too, pretty,” the man growled, his eyes flashing. “I’m sure my men will enjoy you showing them all that you know.”
At that moment three sharp whistles came followed by a forth. The captain startled and Nathaniel turned and jumped. The impact into the water hurt, as he struggled against the fabric of the dress to swim to the surface a strong arm wrapped around him. He fought against the hold as calloused fingers gripped his jaw and turned him to see it was Pa holding him. Pa brought them to the surface and he gasped for air. Around him, he could hear shouts and gun fire. As a bullet splashed the water beside them, he was pulled back under the water. The weight of the dress threatened to drag them both down. Pa reached behind him, grabbed the fabric of the dress, and pulled it apart causing buttons to pop off.   Afterwards Nathaniel slipped out of it and let it float away. Once again, they had to surface for air but the sloop had moved further away though two large galleons were blocking its exit from the harbor.
“Sara!” Nathaniel cried.
“She's safe,” Pa answered, pointing.
Nathaniel followed the gestured and saw his sister waving from the deck of a nearby boat, in her arms was Violet. Arthur standing beside her, the rogue had an arm around her waist.
“Can you swim on your own?” Pa asked.
“I’m cold,” Nathaniel said through chattering teeth, the adrenaline rush had worn off and seemed to suck all the energy he had with him. The seawater was frigid and the elf strained to stay afloat.
Pa seemed oblivious of his struggle. “Then a swim will warm you up, come on, it’s not that far.”
Nathaniel kept pace with his father for a couple of strokes but then pulled up and looked around confused, the chattering of his teeth echoed in his head. Treading water, he watched Pa swim to the edge of the boat and grabbed the rope ladder that was hanging down. A smile came to the elf’s lips though he didn’t know why he was happy, and then he realized it was because he wasn’t cold any more. He closed his eyes and let the warmth embrace him, in the distance he heard shouts and splashing but they seemed so far away. Suddenly the warmth was blazing hot, his skin was on fire and he screamed. As he did, he choked out the water he had swallowed and gasped for breath.   Swimming in front of him holding onto his arms tightly was Bethany; the holy light radiated off her and embraced him.   He looked at her perplexed, why was she here … what was going on.
“Damn it,” Arthur growled as he appeared, “did we all have to get soaking wet. What’s wrong with him?” The rogue wrapped an arm around Nathaniel and pulled him out of Bethany’s embrace toward the boat.
“Hypothermia,” Bethany replied as she continued to bless them with her magic.
“He wasn’t in the water very long,” Arthur argued.
“He’s underweight, in this temperature it wouldn’t take very long.” They were at the boat by then and Bethany climbed up the ladder, Nathaniel noticed she was only wearing her under clothing. As she climbed, her healing magic left him and he started shivering again.
Arthur held him close, “we’ll be dry in a moment,” he said reassuringly as he followed Bethany up the ladder, still carrying Nathaniel.
As soon as they neared the top he was taken out of the rogue’s embrace and wrapped in a blanket by Pa. “Damn it,” Pa said, “why didn’t you say anything?”
“He couldn’t, Mr. Conway,” Bethany said approaching, wrapped in her own blanket. “It’s a silent killer, robs you of your senses very quickly. One moment you’re coherent and the next your mind stops working, thoughts become sluggish.”
“Open,” Arthur said and Nathaniel’s lips parted on command. The rogue put a bottle to his lips and poured the liquid inside.
“No alcohol!” Bethany yelled.
“Not alcohol, Miss O’Connell,” Arthur said. “It is this invention called ‘healing potion’ alchemists can make it, and I happen to be one. All of us should drink one, will help and won’t deplete your magic trying to keep us all warm.” He took out a second bottle and popped the cork. “Open,” he said and once again Nathaniel’s lips parted. His body warmed from the first bottle he willingly let the second be poured in.
“One bottle is enough,” Bethany said with a shake of her head.
“Oh, this isn’t a healing potion,” Arthur said, as Nathaniel’s eyes started to close, “It’s a sleeping potion I should have used it on his ass like I threatened to do before I left the hotel.”
Nathaniel’s hand reached up but darkness claimed him before his fingers touched the rogue’s arm.
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