Sound: an Illidan/Kael'thas Story | By : flagfish Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 3237 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: I do not own Warcraft nor any of the characters, nor do I make any money or profit from writing this story. |
As time went by, Kael’thas watched from across the barren expanse of the black training field while Illidan gradually shaped his brethren into something he never imagined possible; something beautiful and terrible, powerful beyond his wildest dreams, but all the while terribly pained, agonizing, righteous in its own wretchedness. Something like Illidan, himself.
He understood now why he’d asked for only the most rigidly disciplined among his people, and became filled with humility while observing the extent to which they withstood forces far more potent than those to which he, himself, had succumbed; forces which frightened him deep down because of their overwhelming nature, maddening and intoxicating in a way far more profound than the arcane magic he’d known.
He had watched them suffer while they struggled with the power which threatened to consume them, something of cosmic proportions forced into the mortal vessel of a living being, and at any moment dangerously close to release; only then had he glimpsed the full weight of Illidan’s anguish, the tenacious control which kept him cerebral and cautious despite the chaotic energies burning him throughout, and despite his very nature, of a wild beast which could not be tamed.
His presence, his proximity was inebriating to him, against his better judgment everything in him wanted to know the true extent of his power; “Master,” he spoke softly while his gaze trained on the surreal skyscape overhead. “Would you ever humor me a real taste of you?”
The silence between them haunted through the jagged, windswept cliffs; Illidan needed not speak aloud of it, he would spare Kael the embarrassment of his own confessed naiveté. To ask such a thing was to nakedly convey all Kael did not understand, of what it really was to contend with his burden.
“It’s getting late,” he said instead; “let’s head back, we need to move.”
Late at night against his flesh, Illidan was the gentlest sort of creature; he thought of Tyrande, and Kael thought of Jaina, while Illidan had him achingly hard and helpless beneath him.
He imagined her watching him like this, the way the entire bed dragged heavily along the floor, how the headboard knocked on the wall, and Illidan breathlessly mouthed at the shell of his ear that if he were good, he'd allow him another small taste of his magic.
Would she have liked seeing that...?
"Strike me," he'd murmur to Illidan, he wanted badly to be manhandled, he'd take the long digits of Illidan's hand and press them hard into himself, all the way, and then roll his hips against them like they moved of their own accord; like he was impossibly frustrated to have more.
"Master, I'll do anything you want," he'd mouth while he fucked himself on Illidan's fingers; "Anything."
But even then, he knew that in such an intimate setting Master would never be as utterly savage with him as he'd liked; he'd hold him securely and kiss his neck and his brow, and call him little prince while he slowly got his cock in. He'd softly ask if he were close, if he could hold out just a little longer, he'd say that Kael was being so good.
Illidan was in essence the big brother for whom Kael had desperately longed, ever since the undefeatable presence of his father had shattered impossibly from existence; after the fact, Kael had walked the corridors of his world devastated and fragile, too sheltered to absorb the blow he'd been dealt.
Tell me I've pleased you, he said sometimes, late at night while he was nearly asleep and curled beneath Illidan's wing; at other times, he'd say, Discipline me, tell me I've been very bad.
It wasn't something Illidan liked to do; there still were scars along his back and his chest, old ones he'd earned not from battle, but from countless years spent in captivity.
Between him and Maiev there was something like obsession, a loathing rooted so fundamentally deep it had penetrated every other emotion he possessed, until it became a hunger which warranted no actual words; the lines had blurred utterly between what he detested and what he knew, and what he was certain she thought.
Even after his release from imprisonment, in his mind remained ten millennia spent in her presence, under her watch, naked and vulnerable; there was no other single person whose physical company he'd known for anywhere near the length of time he'd known hers.
For all his immeasurable, daunting power, he was devastatingly gentle with Kael in intimate affairs— and Kael'thas, who had never known the specific sort of suffering which Master had endured, knew only that he, himself, wanted desperately to be punished.
Just as he wanted desperately to be praised and consoled.
(On to Chapter 9)
A/N: next time, perhaps a bit of Kael/Altruis/Kayn?
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A/N: I would love to find someone interested in roleplaying Warcraft lore, especially Illidan/Kael'thas, Wrathion/Anduin, or Varian/Arthas (if this is still on here then I'm still looking, haha!) I've had a very difficult time finding anyone interested in this, as WoW fangirls usually like RPing their OCs (which I'm not interested in doing). I don't mind at all if you don't know much lore, if English isn't your first language, if you're a little shy, or if you're new to Warcraft or to RPing; I just like writing with someone else who's passionate about the same stuff =) If you feel like giving it a go, then please reach me through the contact info on my profile. Thank you! ^^
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