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Gravitation	By : neuralmisfit Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 9243 -:- 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
- 1-Gravitation
- 2-Awakening
- 3-Revelations
- 4-Memories
- 5-Skirmish
- 6-Hunger
- 7-Voyage
- 8-Outland
- 9-Maiev
- 10-Hunting
- 11-Trial
- 12-Consummation
- 13-Destruction
- 14-Return
- 3
- 4
- 5
Gravitation
By
Arcadia-Sama
Summary- Never mind. You�ll see.
Disclaimer- Only Shayl is copyright
me. I own nothing about WarCraft.. though
I do wish I did own Arthas and Illidan. >3 Anyways! On with the story!
Suggested BGM � "Eden" � Sarah Brightman

Oh,
one other thing. Words like this are
in Darnassian and words like this are in the language of Sindassi. The language of the Quel'Dorei. And then stuff like �
this � is memories. We all clear? Good. :3

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+

The
relapse occurred about midnight.

Shayl,
having fallen asleep after strange thoughts of Illidan, secret thoughts that
she hardly dared to breathe to herself, thoughts of admiring his body, was
woken up by a pain-filled scream. The agonizing roar was not of physical pain,
but of remembered emotional hurt. It was the cry of one who has lost everything
that he has held dear, every little detail that is important to one singular
person that makes up their life, the details that others find insignificant,
stripped away. It was a scream of pain that came straight from the soul to the
heart and from the heart out to the mouth where it was expelled in a screaming
yell of pain.

Jerking
upright from beneath the fur of bearskin that lay over her, the blind woman
glanced from side to side before hearing the hoarse bellowing again. And this
time, there were words laced in the yelling, words in Darnassian, words that
made Shayl's heart contract painfully as she listened to them.

How
long had it been since she'd heard the beautiful, almost mournful language of
the kaldorei? How long, since the girl had spoken it? Far too
long indeed for tears came to the blind eyes, tracking silently down the
smooth, unblemished cheeks that were simply pure lavender with nothing marring
their beauty. Shayl had foregone the tattoos that adorned the faces of
so many kaldorei, simply because no one had bothered to help her pick
something. So, she was unnaturally bland, at least, in the terms of night elf
beauty, so it had always seemed to her.

"She
should have been mine, brother! I loved her first! I did everything for her!
You did nothing! You were the one that bumbled into her heart! Tyrande, I was
the one who loved you! Why?! Why not me?! I was just as good! I did it all for
you, you foolish woman! Should have been mine.. been mine.."

The
words were snarled in pain, tearfully filled pain, pain that ebbed and flowed
from wounds that had not closed, wounds that could
close, perhaps, if someone was willing to help them shut. Shayl moved over to
Illidan, knowing the camp was likely up in arms over the yelling that had come
from their master and lightly, gently, she brushed her fingers over Illidan's
cheek, peering down at him with blank, unseeing pools of golden sheen.

At
the touch, the man calmed, if only slightly and Shayl breathed out a sigh
before she felt Kael coming into the tent. Shayl held a hand up to the prince
before looking over to him with those blind eyes Kael swore could see him all
the same, even if she did deny being blind. Before he could even speak the question
that was coming, the druid spoke the answers.

"He
was merely dreaming a fever dream, Kael. For reasons that I do not know, he has
relapsed into the delirium of sickness. He was.. crying about a Tyrande. Do you know whom
that might have been?"

Oh,
Shayl knew who Tyrande was, but the druid simply wished to hear of how Kael
would describe this woman

Her
head would cock, ever so gently, towards Kael, the expression upon Shayl's face
something that Kael could only describe as slightly jealous concern. The
concern, he could understand, as Kael was able to tell that this kaldorei
seemed to see things with her heart, the blindness that had struck her at birth
allowing her to see more deeply then eyes would allow..
but the jealousy? That was what baffled him. However,
the prince spoke at last in his low tenor, vibrating syllables forming words
that drifted in a pleasant manner into Shayl's eardrums.

"He
was speaking of the lady Tyrande Whisperwind, Shayl. I met her, once, and from
what I was able to glean from what I saw through following events, the lady
priestess is the beloved of both my master and his twin brother, Malfurion
Stormrage. The two seem to love and care for her deeply and my lord rescued her
from the forces of the Lich King before he traveled to Outland."

Silence
grew in the hut, a pregnant, thoughtful silence that made Kael shift a bit
nervously. He could only watch as Shayl knelt beside his master, one hand on
the chest of the hybrid. Illidan was quiet, oddly enough, as if her touch
soothed whatever demons plagued his master's memory and soul. But then, perhaps
it was her touch that calmed the savage bestial nature that dwelt within
Illidan's soul after the former night-elf had consumed the Skull of Gul'dan. At
last, the woman druid spoke, voice calm.

"I
see. Then, could you bring me cold water and a few good towels? I have a
feeling that this is going to be a long night. Your lord is a large man, as we
both obviously know, and it is going to take me a while to wipe him down."

For
a long moment, Kael simply stood and stared at the young, by even elven terms
in both his people and hers, woman. Loosely converted into the terms of
humanity, this girl was no more then fourteen or fifteen! But she was so poised
and self-assured that Kael found himself hastening to obey her request. After
he found clean towels and brought in water, the Quel'Dorei prince settled down
beside Shayl, watching her quietly as he often did, never ably to fully trust
her.

The
young druid didn't seem to mind, however and Shayl simply spent her time
listening to Illidan's delirious ramblings. Kael often asked her what he was
saying and the kaldorei would glance his way, those pools of gold glimmering in
the light of the fire before the woman finally said that, quite simply, he was
speaking of his past. But the prince noticed that the woman before him looked a
bit paler then normal underneath those lavender tones that covered her body and
her hand shook slightly upon Illidan's chest.

The
words that continued to spill from Illidan's mouth were words that shook the
young female kaldorei to her core, words that told her exactly how much she
didn't know about her own people! Shayl had indeed left as a young thing, no
more then fifteen or sixteen. As a result of her being ostracized by most of
the children she had grown up with, even the adults quietly shunning the blind
female, Shayl knew very little of the cultures and history of her kind. Oh,
yes, she knew that this half-breed lying under her touch had greatly influenced
the course of history and that Malfurion Stormrage had spouted dire warnings
about Illidan if he was ever freed, but Shayl had gleaned so little knowledge
that what the girl did know was
nothing more then second-hand biased information.

Even
as her hand stroked over the wound, stroking the heated skin with cool liquid,
the man beneath the druid's hands.. dreamed..

no.. not
dreamed..

He...

remembered...

- ... A
savage blow caused the head of the blind-folded man to jerk to the side. Slowly,
from between white teeth, a pale tongue of pinkish-lavender coloration snaked
out to slide across the droplet of dark blue blood that emerged from the cut on
his lip. Then, a twisted grin spreading over Illidan's mouth, the man returned
his blind-folded skull forward, staring at the vibrating colors that created
Maiev's figure.

"Come
now, Watcher, surely you can do better then that," the condemned snarled
in open, mocking amusement. "After all, you haven't hit me hard as you
usually do."

Letting
out a furious command for her Watchers to leave them, the female kaldorei
stared intently with those burning green eyes at the half-naked man before her,
surveying his figure. And then, like aways, she was
pressing her mouth to his, the pair finding a strange connection in their
hatred for each other.

Her
long nails scraped at his pectorals, at his biceps, at his abdomen. That
slender hand of hers dove into his loose pants, past the draw-string waistband.
Illidan's head snapped back and he let out a snarl of hate-filled pleasure at
Maiev who simply smirked and bit at his neck.

Then,
the sounds of distant battle touched the long ears that adorned either purple
head. Maiev let out a hiss of anger at being interrupted with the one she had
claimed for a sexual outlet and removed her hand. Storming out of the cage,
hand flicking to release the manacles that held Illidan against the wall, the
door slammed shut behind her.

Letting
out a sigh that was faintly tinted with regret, but possessed wholly of relief,
the Betrayer squatted down, reaching out to where he kept his few, meager
possessions that he'd been allowed by his twin brother. Very
few possessions indeed. Only a pouch that held a few items that remained
from his other life, and his pants.. and his war glaives. Those, however, were kept out of the
cage. As always, he turned his head towards where they hung from a nearby wall.
Then, a voice that he had not heard in ten thousand years split the darkness of
his soul, causing the slender, powerful elf to whip about, nearly losing his
balance, despite his feline-like grace.

"Illidan.. Is that you?"

For
several long seconds, the man couldn't speak for lack of air in his throat.
Old, painful, powerful feelings clawed at the inside of his chest, squeezing
Illidan's heart so tight, he felt like it could burst. The voice was both
soothing and agonizing, providing pain and pleasure, all at once. Slowly, he
approached the bars of the cage, feeling the energies there crack and hiss at
his approach. Those were the only things that he could not free himself from at
the moment, the enchantments having been woven by his brother and his
followers.

"Tyrande.. it is your voice. After all
these ages spent in darkness, your voice is like the pure light of the moon
upon my mind."

She
was like shining silver flame to his eyes, a vision of beauty that flickered
and rippled, that lavender skin accentuated by the argent fire that surrounded
her with blinding light. Then, the Priestess spoke, her words ripping the man
from his peaceful idyll. Words that dredged up memories of
his heroics during the War of the Ancients, memories of him leading his people
to victory before he had betrayed them to Azshara.

"The
Legion has returned, Illidan. Your people have need of you once more."

A
twisted, bitter smile touched Illidan's mouth, even as his brows drew together
over his head, the man leaning forward to snarl out words of contemptuous
return. The syllables that came from his mouth were full of bitter anger,
strong and powerful in their hatred for those who had condemned him to this
prison.

"Because
I once cared for you Tyrande, I will hunt down the demons. But I will never owe
our people anything."

A
nod was given before the sounds of chains breaking apart, and hinges creaking,
filled the air as freedom was granted to one who had lacked it for ten
millennium, spending those thousand centuries within a darkness that swelled up
from his own soul.

"Then
let us hurry back to the surface. The demon's corruption spreads with every
second we waste."

Slowly, the tall man stepped out of the cage. Immediately, he
went over to the wall that held his war glaives and removed them with the
gentleness of a lover reunited with his beloved. These weapons had saved his
life more then once and he felt their power course through him, feeding him the
tingling, ecstatic feeling of the magic, the arcane wellspring that filled his
soul. Together, the renegade ran beside the white frost saber that Tyrande rode
upon, his long legs reveling in the freedom of movement, in the openness that
now lay before him, no longer being cramped and
confined to a cell. And then, they came to a stop, their way blocked by a
figure that Illidan had half wanted to see, half wanted to never view again.

"Furion!" Tyrande cried,
her voice full of astonishment.

The
arch-druid stared at the two of them, before Illidan spoke, voice full of
powerful malicious intensity for the one who'd sentenced him to this hellhole
of a prison.

"It
has been an eternity, brother. An eternity spent in darkness!"

The
blind twin stepped forward, bristling openly as his muscles grew tense, his
posture coiling in on itself. In response, Malfurion's
hand tightened upon his staff, those glowing silver eyes narrowed slowly, the
druid's face twisting into dark lines of solemnity.

"Illidan! You were sentenced to pay
for your sins, nothing more!"

The
recently freed prison stepped forward, weapons jerking upwards, Illidan using
the point of one to point at his brother like an accusing finger, voice full of
self-righteous indignation as he spat out words tainted with bitter resentment
for his confinement by his own family.

"And
who were you to judge me? We fought the demons side by side, if you
recall!"

It
was then that Tyrande intervened. Stepping between the two of them, the
priestess spoke at first in a commanding manner to the both of them before
gently speaking in confiding tones to her lover, reaching out to place a gentle
hand upon Furion's.

"Enough of this, both of you! My love, with Illidan's
help, we will drive back the demons once again and save what is left of our
beloved land."

For
several long moments, the two brothers stared at one another, silence reigning
over them. Furion's entourage and guards began to
shift nervously as palpable tension crackled and split the stagnant air of the
caverns, silver eyes meeting orbs of smoke colored gold behind the blind cloth.
At last, Furion lowered his eyes to the delicate features of the face of his
beloved. Slowly, his lips parted and the arch druid's sonorous voice rumbled
through the air and over everyone nearby.

"Have
you even considered the cost, Tyrande? This betrayer's aid may doom us all
before the end! I'll have nothing to do with this."

Ignoring
the snarl that twisted the lips of his twin, Furion turned his back upon his
brother and walked off, leaving him in the dark with Tyrande. At last, after an
arduous journey through the caverns, Illidan stepped out of the darkness for
the first time in ten thousand years... -

A
loud gasp echoed through the hut as Illidan's body jerked upwards, sockets
staring upwards. Strong hands held him down against the furs, two sets of
hands. One was, while slender, ultimately masculine. The other pair was strong
and delicate, with rough, callused fingertips that touched his skin with the
lightness of phoenix down. Slowly, the man's vision came back into focus and he
stared upwards, before a delirious smile would touch his lips.

"Tyrande..?"

Shayl, tilting her head to the side, blinked those
blind gold eyes once. Kael himself looked slightly startled, those neon green
pools of his eyes opening more widely before he shot a silent look of perusal
at Shayl. How could his master mistake the priestess he loved and this.. this foundling of a girl? True,
they were similar, partially, in their physical features. Where Tyrande bore
the lovely beauty of a woman in her young prime, well into the fullness of
womanhood, Shayl was more slender, still in the spring of girlhood, not yet
having come to the summer bloom of being a woman.

Yet, Shayl had a thinner face then Tyrande's
rounder features and she was a bit shorter. Her hair was green in coloration
instead of the priestess's�
silver-tinged hair of blue and while Tyrande's face bore darker
markings that had been placed there by careful hands long ago, the druid's skin
was clean of any such decoration. But it was perhaps the way both women carried
themselves that was what gave the illusion of Shayl being his master's love.
Both the druid and priestess held a powerful will
within their soul, both had a soul of great, gentle beauty and both of them
seemed to have the ability to care about others easily.

Shayl seemed to debate on whether or not she should
allow Illidan to believe that she was Tyrande, but finally, the druid spoke,
voice soft and gentle in its tones as she resumed wiping him down gently with
the cool water.

"No.. But Tyrande is
nearby. She wants you to cooperate with me, Illidan. Can you do that?"

A nod of that great, horned head as Illidan grew
lax and restful underneath Shayl's hands. The hours passed and Shayl finished
wiping him down at last, the fever having broken not long ago. She wondered
about the relapse and lightly, her fingers would touch the bound wound upon his
chest. Illidan had passed out, long ago, his sleep easy and peaceful for the
moment. Lightly, Shayl placed her hands over the hybrid's chest and the green
glow would seep out to coat the wound. Firmly, carefully, she began to knit it
together. At last, Shayl finished, feeling drained and her form would slump
gently beside Illidan's. Even as Kael watched, astonished, he saw one of Illidan's
arms curl slightly about Shayl's body, pulling her closer.

Now.. what
could that mean?
- 3
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- 5
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Gravitation