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Brothers	By : Koori Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1830 -:- 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 Fifty – Thomas Conway, Age 46
He awoke to the feeling of a warm body pressed against him. His first thought was of Norah but as he opened his eyes and saw the room he was in, he remembered where he was. Which meant when he glanced down it was his son who had nestled close, his back to him. For a moment he could easily picture a dark haired toddler wedged between his parents during a thunderstorm, when the whole family slept together on the loft. However, it was very much a young man which rested peacefully next to him. As awkward it was for him to have another man in such an intimate position he could not find fault in his son. How many nights did he spend naked with only a naga as company? His son had never spoken of his captivity and Thomas didn't ask, not yet. When he was ready he would talk.
He took time to study his son, the dwarf healers and regular eating had done wonders to his body. He was only slightly under the weight he had been, though he wore his captivity on his face; etched lines that should only be found on aged war veterans. Not the face a young man not even twenty-five. He sensed a subtle change in his son's breathing and closed his eyes. Foster startled himself awake. Thomas wondered what dreams his son had, as his eldest sat up in bed. There was a movement in the bed as the warmth left his side and Foster moved further away. After counting to a hundred slowly Thomas stretched and opened his eyes. Sitting up he found Foster at the edge of the bed on the far side, his back to him.
"You awake?" he asked.
Foster looked over his shoulder at him, his long hair tussled with sleep. "Yes, sir," he said. "Did you sleep well?"
"Like a rock," he admitted as he sat up. Pulling on a robe he walked over to the door and opened it. Outside, as promised, were two stacks of clothing and a tray with fruit and some kind of warm cereal. Gathering it all up he shut the door and sat the breakfast on the table before tossing Foster his clean clothes.
The men quickly dressed. "I think they pressed my denims," Foster said with a chuckle.
"Aye, they repaired the torn hems on mine and the missing button on my shirt," Thomas said.
After running a comb through his long hair Foster pulled it back in a low ponytail. "I think I like the elf stuff for my hair," he said as he joined Thomas at the table. They ate quickly and were just finishing when there was a knock on the door. Outside Rinahi was waiting. "Are you gentlemen ready?" he asked.
"Aye," Thomas replied. "Is there anything we can do to take care of the cost of our stay?"
"Nay, the Master Suntouched has taken care of everything."
"Who is Master Suntouched?" Foster asked as he followed the elf down the stairs.
"He is Nahoan's father," Rinahi replied.
"Nahoan is?" Foster asked, his frustration starting to show.
"My apologies," the elf said, "it is the name given to the elf child you raised."
Thomas wasn't sure what hurt the worse, hearing another man as his son's father or his new name. He assumed the name was to blend in better with the flowery names of the other elves. Outside they found their horses saddled and ready to go. The innkeeper gave each them of a sack lunch to eat as they rode and they were off. They had traveled about an hour when two High Elves approached at a gallop on the back of Hawkstriders. They pulled up as the trio rode past, then fell in step behind them.
Thomas glanced over his shoulder; the pair of elves had bows and quivers. One was a stunning female with long blond hair, the other a male equally as handsome with the same hair in color and length.
"I don't remember requesting an escort from the Farstriders," Rinahi said coolly.
"When we received news last night that Nahoan's family had appeared, Captain Brightwing ordered us to meet you," the female replied. She smiled at Thomas, "Ranger Swiftwind at your service, sir, your son is a member of my squad we consider him our brother. He saved my life recently when we were attacked by the forest trolls to the east."
"Brother," Foster said softly, "So you watched out for him?"
The two elves suddenly looked distressed. "We tried to do the best within our powers," the male Ranger said after a long pause. "Our brother didn't always appreciate our efforts … and then …"
"It is best if you speak to Captain Brightwing first," the woman named Swiftwind interrupted.
A cold stone appeared in Thomas's gut and he looked over at Foster who wore his concern on his face.
"Master Suntouched will fill the humans in when we reach Silvermoon," Rinahi said tersely.
"I was hoping to speak to my brother directly," Foster said.
The trio of elves exchanged looks but didn't say anything more as they urged their mounts on. Foster looked over at him stricken. "Be calm," Thomas whispered, "whatever they aren't telling us will be revealed soon."
They ate their lunch on the back of the horses as they rode, through a forest where the leaves were a brilliant orange. A couple of hours later a gleaming white wall appeared in the horizon. "The wall surrounding Silvermoon," Rinahi said, "we're almost there."
As they approached one of the ornate archways an armed squadron of High Elves appeared. Rinahi pulled up and held up his hand motioning Thomas and Foster to do the same.
"King Anasterian sends his regards, humans," one of the elves said. "He also requests you leave all weapons in our care."
They had very few weapons; he took the rifle from his saddle and the small dagger from his boot. "My son carries none," Thomas said, offering the elf the pair he possessed.
The elf motioned for them to dismount, where they were patted down. After a quick look through their belongings they mounted back up and the company of armed elves fell in step with them. Once in the city proper they were led past elegant buildings, which shimmered with red and gold. The elves on the streets hurried out of their way and then gawked as they rode past.
"It has been a long time since a human has been allowed within Silvermoon," Swiftwind said, "I apologize for their rudeness."
Thomas nodded his understanding. After numerous twist and turns the group stopped outside one of the ornate buildings. "You can leave your mounts here," Rinahi said. "They will be stabled for you."
Hopping down Thomas grabbed his pack and slung it over his shoulder. He followed their guide into a plush sitting room. "Please, have a seat," Rinahi said, "There is a fully stocked bar if you desire, I'll return shortly."
Thomas noticed they had lost their ranger shadows; they must have gone off to report to their Captain. Foster walked over to the aforementioned bar and took out a pair of shot glasses. After sniffing at the different flasks of liquor he poured something into the tumblers and brought one back to his father. "No idea what it is," he said, "but it smells strong." They swallowed it in one gulp.
It burnt all the way down and Thomas gasped. "Damn," he said. Just then there was a gut wrenching scream and the pair of men stood up.
"Nathaniel!" Foster yelled as he ran out of the room, Thomas close on his heels. The same terrible yell came again and without speaking they ran up the stairs taking them two and three at time. They were met on the landing by a woman dressed in a robe. "Please wait!" she said, "please for your son's sake I must speak to you first."
Thomas grabbed Foster's arm stopping him. They didn't need to tick off the elves now, not when they were so close to Nathaniel. His son gave him a dark look but stopped. "Then I suggest you speak quickly, my Lady," Thomas said.
She motioned to a room off to the side, "Please, come in, this is going to take a bit to explain."
At that moment there was another scream followed by loud sobbing, it took all of Thomas's strength not to tear down the damn doors until he found his child. Foster did not share his patience and struggled against his father's hold. The woman stepped forward and laid a hand on his son's chest, "It will be okay," she said gently, "he is safe; if you want to help your brother you must listen to me." Thomas was betting it was more the touch of the woman than her words which calmed his son. She had magically soothed his temper and he followed her into the room she had gestured to a moment ago.
"I'll try to speak as plainly and quickly as I can," she said, "my name is Belestra I'm a priestess and have been the primary caregiver of Nahoan since he arrived in Silvermoon. Your son was ill for the first couple of months after his arrival; after extensive testing we came to realize he was fighting the power of the Sunwell. The very source of our magic and being, to have a High Elf do such a thing is unheard of. We never could establish the cause but we found having him wear a Sunwell Ring helped considerably. To this day I wonder if it was a conscious effort on his part to reject his heritage."
Foster pulled out the ring attached to the chain around his neck. "This is the one he's worn since birth," he said.
"So it was returned to you, that is good," she replied, "keep it, we had a new one crafted for him. Just do not flaunt it; there are those here which would not let you retain it. Once we figured out what was causing his sickness Nahoan quickly recovered his strength and vigor. To assure that he remained with the High Elves an enchanted bracer was made …"
"My son was a prisoner?" Thomas said, "I was told he would be treasured and loved."
"And that he is," Belestra said, "however, your son is also headstrong and one-tracked, we needed him to remain with us … to learn from us … in the end it is us who learned from him." She seemed to lose herself in thought for a minute. "Please, let me talk … all will be clear when I am finished. The bracer was the most civilized and humane way we could think of. Should he overstep his boundaries it would teleport him back to the heart of the city. At first those borders were the walls of Silvermoon and after trust was gained it broadened to the river to the south."
"A little over two weeks ago, the magic of the bracer was activated …"
"My brother tried to leave?" Foster interrupted.
"Not this time," Belestra said, "but yes there were numerous attempts as he tested integrity of the bracer's magic. This time though it was intentional … his Ranger squad was under attack by a large force of trolls, he used the magic of the bracer to come to Silvermoon for aid."
"Ranger squad …" Foster started.
"Nahoan is quite skilled with a bow," a new voice said. "It was decided about a year ago to let him have the freedom to use it."
Thomas studied the new arrival, like most High Elves he had seen; this gentleman had the same long blond hair and brilliant blue eyes as his son. The elf bowed, "Captain Halduron Brightwing at your service, your son is under my command."
"Halduron …" Foster mumbled and the next moment his fist collided with the fair elf's cheek.
"Foster!" Thomas shouted as he quickly jumped up and wrapped a strong arm around his son. "What are you doing?"
The elf named Halduron rubbed the side of his face and look distastefully at Foster.
"He was there," Foster growled. "He was with the elves which took Nathaniel and left me with the bandits …"
"We assumed you would be ransomed to your family," Halduron said.
"You assumed wrong," Foster said darkly, "I spent a year in hell because of you!"
Halduron looked upset. "I don't understand …"
"No," Foster said, the anger leaving his voice as quickly as it arrived, "and you never will." He motioned his hand at Belestra, "my apologies, ma'am, please continue … my brother used the shackle to return to town …"
Belestra nodded, "once here, our Grand Magister used his magic to reverse the power of the bracer and return a large force of High Elves to the river …"
"He saved our lives," Halduron whispered.
"However, there was a great oversight in the Magister's calculations and the magic broke free of the bracer, damaging Nahoan's body. Even wounded so your son's only thought was to return to the home he had known since birth. He almost died trying. I, along with a dozen priests were able to reform his flesh anew … however, something terrible happened. All Quel'dorei pride themselves on their integrity … but even so, we have a few that succumb to a more primal path. Nahoan was taken by one such elf. In his mind I am sure Adare thought he was doing him a favor, he could not fathom why anyone would want to leave the glory of the Quel'dorei. Though only in the madman's hands for a little over a week, he did terrible damage to your son's body and mind."
"There is a pleasure drug most High Elves use socially, it come from an herb only found in our forest called Bloodthistle. Used moderately it gives you a slight buzz and helps calm you. If you smoke too much you can experience a period of want afterwards but after an hour you're fine. I used the smoke of Bloodthistle with Nahoan soon after he arrived to help him keep calm. Though was always careful to purge it from his system after we were done. The elf that took Nahoan and held him captive, his intent as far as we can piece together when your son is coherent, was to get him addicted to Bloodthistle to the point of not being able to function without it, and to do so he took drastic means."
Thomas wanted nothing more than to take his sons and run as far away as he could from these fanatical elves but he knew there was more he had to know. He kept a firm grip on Foster.
"Adare was able to make an extract from Bloodthistle," Belestra continued, "a highly potent and addictive elixir, which he injected straight into Nahoan's bloodstream … by the time we freed your son the bastard had him addicted to astonishing amount of the serum. Alchemists have been studying the only vial of it we could find intact, but without success. There is little we can do as Nahoan suffers through the horrific withdrawal, except try to keep him from hurting himself. Because of his thrashing and bouts of rage we have been unable to treat the wounds. We need him to calm down and rest. He even resists my magical sleep spells, I'm not sure he's had more than five minute naps in a week. He'll die soon if we can't heal him."
"I was prepared to send a squad to your house in Darrowmere Forest the same time I received news that you had arrived in Blackened Woods. If I doubted miracles before I no longer do," Halduron said.
"Can we see him now?" Thomas asked.
"I just wanted you to know what lay ahead of you," Belestra said nodding. "We truly did try to do right by him."
Thomas nodded stiffly as he let Foster go and they followed the elves out of the room and down the hall. A male elf with short auburn hair stepped out of a room, shutting the door behind him. He looked stricken.
"Master Suntouched," Belestra said, "you shouldn't have come again …"
"He's my son," the elf said, "how could I not …" he noticed Thomas and Foster and a range of emotions played over his face. "I tried …" he said sadly.
Thomas reached over and squeezed the other man's shoulder. "Our son is strong, he'll overcome this," he said.
Foster motioned to the door. "He's in there?" he asked.
Belestra nodded.
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Brothers