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Brothers	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1832 -:- 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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Chapter Forty-Eight – Nahoan Suntouched, Age21
He awoke to an argument, which seemed to be the standard these days. His father arguing to take him home, the Farstriders disagreeing and saying he should return to the Farstrider retreat and Belestra demanding he be left at the inn in Tranquillien until he was recovered enough to travel. The one going on at the moment was between his father and Captain Brightwing.
"You said he was done with Rangers," his father was saying.
"That was before he showed such ferocity in the heat of battle," Halduron replied. "Something clicked …"
"Or broke," his father interrupted. "My son was … is a gentle soul and you damn Farstriders stole his innocence from him. He will never get that back! You made him into a killer."
Killer … was that what he was? The trolls he slaughtered would never laugh or cry again, but if he hadn't then it would be his friends that would have been lost.
"No, not a killer," Halduron was saying, "He was raised too well to ever become one of those. He's a protector, of his family. He charged into battle wounded to help out his comrades."
One of his abrupt coughing fits interrupted them. Belestra stirred from the chair she was resting in and moved over to him. Pulling him up gently into a sitting position she rubbed his back as he cleared his lungs. "I'm getting better?" he asked her as she put some pillows behind him and set him back.
"You are," she replied. "You didn't cough anything up that time; the infection must be leaving your lungs. How's your arm?"
He moved his left arm and replied, "Stiff, ma'am."
"Can you endure a massage?" she asked, "It will help with your circulation."
"I can try," he said.
She helped him turn around so his head was at the foot of the bed and lay down on his chest. Halduron moved over and sat down on the floor in front of him, taking his hands into his own. Belestra climbed onto the bed and straddled his backside as she gently started massaging his back, starting on the right side. Once he started to relax her hands moved to the new tissue on his left side. He squeezed Halduron's hand as the first bolt of pain shot through him.
"Breath, Nahoan," Halduron instructed, "breathe through the hurt."
The massage started at his lower back and moved its way slowly up to his left shoulder. By the time her nimble fingers started working down his arm he was afraid he'd crushed his commander's hands. "Enough," he finally said as she rubbed the rough skin around his wrist. The offending fingers immediately left but the pain it caused lingered until Belestra's magic cooled the new nerves and he found himself fighting to stay awake. He was tired of sleeping and the nightmares it left him in.
"Can I take him for a walk?" his father asked.
"Of course, Master Suntouched," Belestra said. "It would do him good to get him up and around, just take it slow. He may get winded easily."
"Don't talk over me," Nahoan sighed as pushed himself up. They helped him slide on a pair of loose cotton pants. It sat low on his hips, leaving the freshly made skin untouched. It had taken Belestra and half dozen priests to remove his old skin and grow it anew. Thankfully he had been unconscious for that procedure. He had been told it was necessary; the skin had been too damaged to save after Rommath's spell to reverse the magic of the bracers had surpassed the metal it was bound to. It would have consumed him if Lady Vereesa Windrunner, younger sister of the Ranger-General, hadn't found him. It seems the Windrunners' have an estate on the west coast and once they had figured out where he was going the horn call he had heard was a message to the younger Windrunner to intercept him.
His father offered him an ornate cane and he used it to stand, the blood rushing down hurt and he gasped waiting for the initial rush of pain to ebb. "Can you do nothing for his wrist?" his father asked as they waited.
Nahoan studied the wrinkled scarred flesh around his wrist. "The burn is deep; it would take extensive magic to repair, we remove the layer of skin affected by magic. We thought it was more prudent to save his life than to make him pretty. That can come once he's fully recovered, it's cosmetic, and it's not causing him any pain." Belestra explained.
As he moved toward the door, his father and Halduron fell in step beside him. "I'd like to speak to my son in private," his father said coolly.
"Of course, Master Suntouched," Halduron replied in the same tone. "I was merely going to my room to inform the squad of my Ranger's progress."
Nahoan looked between the two men and shook his head. "Idiots," he whispered under his breath, but loud enough to be overheard. "I'm not some toy to be fought over."
His room was on the lower floor so there were no steps for him to fight, before he was outside. Walking through a small garden, he found a bench by a fountain and sat down gingerly, making sure his new skin didn't touch anything. His father sat down beside him. "You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" he asked after a few minutes.
"I was going to get a note to you," Nahoan said. Though, after he had changed his path away from the Thalassian Pass, he hadn't really thought of a plan how. "I wasn't leaving forever," he said. "I did really plan to return."
"How?" his father asked, his voice rising. "You would have been dead if Lady Vereesa hadn't intercepted you. As stubborn as your mother, I warned her that going to Dalaran while she was pregnant was foolish. She promised to return before your birth …"
"She tried," Nahoan said.
"As you would have, I'm sure …" his father said bitterly, "Would have tried, eventually, some century … perhaps."
"Doesn't matter anymore," Nahoan said, "I'm not going anywhere … if you folks have your way … for a very long time. Can I please be alone for a while? I won't move."
With a heavy sigh his father stood and left the garden, disappearing around the edge of the inn. Resting his head against his folded hands that were on top of the cane, Nahoan tried to calm himself. This was merely a setback; there was still time to figure out a way to return to his family being it this week or next year. Suddenly a damp cloth was put over his nose and mouth from behind. The attack shocked him he hadn't heard anyone approaching. Grabbing the arm he tried to free himself, but the cloth smelled funny and his head started buzzing. As the darkness he did not want closed down on him he saw the sneering face of Adare, his father's stable master.
Time after that was a period of consciousness filled with nausea and pain, and sleep filled with nightmares. He wasn't sure how long he was kept in this forced existence but eventually he awoke to the smell of hay. Something cold was poured over his head to wake him up completely. Shaking the water from his hair he looked up at Adare standing over him.
Nahoan went to demand what the hell was going on but found the ability to speak was lost to him. His hands were chained to the wall on either side of him. All he could do was stare up at the man towering over him with a look of disbelief and confusion. "Sorry about this, child," the stable master said kneeling. "Need to keep you here a bit longer. The Master says the Rangers have stopped looking for you, certain you somehow made it back to your human family. Master Suntouched is heartbroken … with your return I will be a hero in his eyes. However, we must first fix this wanderlust you possess." The elf in front of him took out a wicked looking needle. There was little Nahoan could do as the elder elf grabbed his right arm and injected him. At first there was a burning sensation that was followed with a feeling of bliss and a hunger he wasn't aware of having at first was sedated. "Feels good don't it?" Adare said with a smirk as he pulled the needle out. "Have you up to six shots a day." Nahoan looked over at his right arm; it was a track of scabbed puncture wounds. "Though, this is your last one for today. I want you to crash and know what it feels like."
Nahoan shook his head; the man was totally out of his mind. Adare patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry about undoing all of Priestess Belestra's work, it was more fragile than I thought it would be." Looking over at his left arm he noticed painful looking sores going up his arm, he imagined it continued down his back that was pressed against the rough wooden wall. He wondered why he felt no pain; it had to be the shot of whatever Adare had given to him. "All right," Adare said taking out a canteen. "You're going to be really thirsty here in a bit, best drink while you can."
Opening his mouth he left the stable master pour some of the cool liquid in. As the flask left his lips he spit it back in the face of his jailor. That earned him a slap across his cheek. He retaliated by kicking Adare hard, he had aimed for his crotch but the other turned in time so it just hit his thigh. After that Adare moved out of the range of Nahoan. "Prideful little ass," he said. "Just wait, by tonight you'll be begging me for your fix and I'll be sitting over there enjoying your agony."
What the hell was going on? He looked around the small building he was being held in, it didn't look familiar. Except for him and Adare all there was the hay he was resting on and a pot in the corner which by the odor he could guess what that was used for. The other followed his gaze. "Ah yes, no more cleaning you up now that you're awake. Though after that little display you can just piss yourself for all I care. I'll be back later, for now I must return to your father's side. He is awful distraught, seems you had an argument before you parted." He walked out the door and Nahoan heard something heavy lock in to place. He waited listening to the retreating sounds of feet, the noise stopped sooner than it should have so he remained still until he heard them retreat out range. Only then did he study the shackles that held him pinned to the wall. They were very secure; it frightened him to think the stable master had put some thought into this. He had to wonder if he was the first to be held here. He tried shouting and was met with the same lack of voice as earlier.
After he counted to five-hundred he wet his lips, while most Rangers used their fingers to whistle, he did not. He let out the distress call of all Farstriders, counting to ten he repeated it, when there was no immediate answer he knew he must be away from the vineyard. He repeated the call every few seconds until he heard running feet outside. There hadn't been an answer so he knew who it was as the door flew open he whistled again. This time it was cut short by Adare's hand. Nahoan bit down on the palm and as Adare pulled back he whistled again. Once more it was stopped this time by a sharp slap. His jaw was painfully pulled apart and a dirty cloth stuffed into his mouth.
"You just have to make this harder than it has to be," Adare snarled. He tied a gag around Nahoan's mouth. In the distance they heard a whistle and the Stable Master smiled darkly. "They'll never be able to pinpoint where the sound came from that far away. But please do hope … it will make your despair even sweeter." After making sure he was secure, Adare once again left him alone.
The sunlight peeking in from under the door eventually faded at the same time the first twinge of discomfort started. At first he blamed the lack of food; he wondered when the last time he ate was. Then the aches from his left arm and back began and he knew it was the "crash" Adare had spoken about earlier. The craving started next and he had no idea what it was he yearned for. Food no longer seemed important. The knocking startled him and he wondered for a moment if someone had found him when he realized it the sound of his hands banging against the wall as they trembled. He seemed in total lack of control of his body at the moment and it frightened him.
By the time Adare appeared his body was covered with sweat and the cloth in his mouth soaked from the drool he couldn't control. Through feverish eyes he watched as the other hung a lantern up on nail. "Hurts don't it?" Nahoan glared at him. "Such eyes, they best get a kinder look in them by tomorrow if you want me take away your suffering. For now you can stew in your juices. It shouldn't kill you." Adare spread out a blanket on the far side of the shack. "Sweet dreams, child," he said as he blew out the lantern. In the dark Nahoan saw him lie down facing toward his prisoner.
"Enjoy the show, sick bastard," Nahoan thought to himself. It dawned on him his anguish was similar to what he felt like when he lost his ring. A glance told him he still wore it … so, was there something else he was going without? "Up to six shots a day …" Six shots of what?
A hellish night passed filled with welcome moments of darkness and way too many of being awake and unable to control his thrashing body. At one point he was sure he was going to beat his head against the wall until it or his skull broke. Eventually the elf at the other end of the room stirred as the sun came up. Stretching Adare looked over at him. "Sleep well," he asked with a smirk.
His face damp with tears of exhaustion Nahoan looked down. "All right, child," Adare said approaching, "time to show you the magic of my bloodthistle elixir, though if you want more you'll have to be a good boy from here on out." Roughly grabbing his trembling arm Adare took a syringe and jabbed it into his flesh. Almost instantly the warmth shot through his body and he let out a content sigh. His pain lessened and soon vanished all together. This time Nahoan greedily drunk the water offered after his gag was removed. The stable master let him drink as much as he wanted, before drawing a drink for himself which he spewed over Nahoan a moment later. "Pay backs are hell," he said coolly, "remember that." Rummaging through a pack he had brought with him, he took out a loaf of bread and broke off a piece. He offered it to Nahoan, famished he had no choice but to open his mouth and let the man feed him. After half the loaf had been consumed Adare sat back on his heels and studied him.
"So how do you like my bloodthistle elixir?" he asked. "It's a thousand time more potent than smoking the leaves. Makes you think clearer as well as takes away your worries. Heard you were pretty upset about killing some green-skins how about now? Where is that concern?"
Nahoan didn't like thinking about the deaths he had caused, however at the moment it was hard to care. His mind was still riding the rush from the drug. He looked over at Adare, confused. The stable master laughed. Standing up he reached into his pack and brought out a second needle. Rolling up his own sleeve Adare injected himself. "Yeah," he said with a grin, "good stuff … of course I only take one or two a day. You child, have to take a half-dozen just to fight off the tremors. And I am the only elf in all of Silvermoon that can make it. So when we return next week you are going to be the most humble and loving son any father could ask for. As your reward I'll keep you on an even keel. Should you decide to leave then who will take away the trembles and the pain? No this way you'll never want to depart Silvermoon again!"
Crazy … the elf before he was a complete lunatic, Nahoan thought with dread. He needed to sleep it had been hours since he rested and his body was exhausted but the drug flowing through him was keeping him awake with its unnatural edge. Just then a Farstrider call went out, still far away but to Nahoan's trained ear it was closer than yesterday's. Adare moved quickly and had his gag replaced and tied tight before he even thought of returning the whistle.
"Bothersome Rangers," Adare mumbled under his breath, "just give up already. It's your fault they are even out there. Guess I won't be back to sedate your withdrawal until late tonight again." He stood and patted Nahoan on the head. "I would try to rest before the tremors start."
It was sometime after lunch that he lost all ability to reason. Instead as his soul rejected the body it was bound to, he filled his moments of conscious with trying to rip the damn shackles, which held him, out of the wall. The blood streaming down from both wrists fascinated him, as the cold metal bit into the softer flesh. Gathering up his frantic energy he got up on his feet and lunged forward again. The only thing to give was the flesh around his wrist. He watched the new crimson rivers run down his arms; somewhere in the back of his feverish mind he knew he should be concerned about the loss of blood.
When the door finally opened and Adare stepped inside, Nahoan could only wonder at what the scene must look like. His struggles had opened new wounds on his arms and back, at some point he had soiled himself but he couldn't remember when or even care. The stable master stared at him aghast for a moment and then alarm took over. "No … by the Sunwell, he won't forgive me for a corpse!" As he moved toward him, Nahoan got his legs under him once more and lunged forward causing the elder to jump back. As with the dozens of previous attempt all this one did was manage to hurt him more. "Stop it!" Adare commanded, moving quickly he pressed himself against Nahoan as he thrashed around keeping him pinned against the wall. At the same time he plunged a needle into his captive's thigh, the injection had little effect on his shakes so there was a second syringe and jab.
Nahoan let out a sound between a gasp and scream as he body shuddered, the drugs coursing through his body. "Fuck … fuck … fuck," Adare mumbled as he stood and paced the small room. "I passed two Ranger units on my way here tonight, they are going to find you soon … you're not ready."
There was a brilliant flash of light that blinded Nahoan, as his vision cleared he saw Adare and Helios struggling on the ground. His friend must have thrown a flare in the open the door. Adare knocked Helios aside the ranger quickly moved in front of Nahoan. "What in the hell are you doing?" Helios demanded. "By the Sunwell, you're killing him, you sick bastard!"
"I am not," Adare said wiping a hand across his busted lip. "I am just reassuring he never leaves his father again. It is no different from the bracer you forced him to wear, just a less visible bond."
"Baby," Helios said not taking his eyes off Adare. "It's going to be okay, the others are close they'll be here soon … just hold on."
Adare charged and Helios met him head on. However, his friend was a distance fighter and Adare quickly showed he was more of a hand-to-hand combatant. Helios was going to lose; the stable master got a choke hold around Helios neck. Nahoan lunged again and this time the right shackle broke free of the wall with a great splintering sound. Reaching forward he grabbed Adare's shoulder and jerked him back off balance, leaving behind a set of bloody streaks across his shoulder. Free, Helios backed up gasping for breath. Adare went to charge again when he staggered back, buried in his right shoulder was an arrow. Halduron stepped inside the room another arrow already nocked.
"I missed on purpose," he said calmly, "because you are a Quel'dorei and the court should decide your fate. However, if you so much as blink I'll put an arrow between your eyes and call it justice."
The next few second happened in slow motion for Nahoan. His Captain's look of dismay as he looked over at him, the slight waver of his bow, the quick movement from Adare as something silver flashed in his hand … Helios shouted warning as he dove toward Nahoan shielding him with his body. His friend gasped as the knife aimed for him, struck Helios in the back and finally the arrow of Halduron striking Adare from behind. The stable master stared at the arrow coming out of his chest as he fell to his knees. "I did … it ... for the Master … no hope for him now." He crumpled and laid still.
"Helios," Halduron said shouldering his bow and hurrying over.
"I'm fine, Captain," Helios said, "It doesn't seem to have hit anything important just burns a bit. By the Sunwell, what did he do to you, baby brother? Why?"
As Helios worked to untie the gag from his mouth, Halduron let out a shrill whistle that was echoed by dozens outside. Looking through Adare's pockets he found the key to Nahoan's shackles. After freeing his wrists Halduron took off his mail breastplate to reach the cotton shirt beneath. This one he tore into strips and wrapped them around Nahoan's bleeding wrists. "Can you tell me what happened here?"
Nahoan went to speak but found his words still lost from him. Frowning Halduron ran a hand down his neck. "A silencing rune, let me get rid of that bothersome … okay now, you should be able to speak."
"I want to go home," Nahoan said.
The small hut was suddenly filled with Rangers. There were shouts, gasps and soft hands on his bleeding flesh as those that knew first aid tried their best to ready him for travel. In the end it was Halduron picked him up like a child and held him close. Nahoan's bandaged hand found the elder's ponytail and held onto it as he pleaded to go home.
"I know, soon, I promise" Halduron said softly, "to your true home … I promise."
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