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Hate is Love Spelled Backwards and Wrong	By : RotSeele Category: +S through Z > World of Warcraft Views: 1767 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own World of Warcraft. I do not make any money from this story

Chapter List
- 1-One
- 1
“What have you done?!”
Illidan half turned to face the night elf female standing behind him, giving her a cursory once-over as he always did before turning his back on her. Which, considering her rather volatile personality and enmity towards him, wasn’t the smartest thing to do. “As I told Khadgar, sometimes the hand of Fate needs to be forced.”
Maiev stomped towards him - at least, Illidan imagined she was stomping, because the Warden moved so damned quietly - and grabbed his arm, forcing him to look directly at her. “You’ve put us all in great danger, idiot. If we can reach them, they can reach us! You can’t go and make plans and keep them to yourself anymore. You’re part of the Legionfall now, as much as I loathe that, which means you can’t go off playing Lord of Outland anymore.”
Illidan made no move to push Maiev away. She had a point, of course. Not that Illidan wanted to admit it to her face. Old habits were hard to break, but he didn’t say that out loud. Maiev wouldn’t accept that. Not anymore. Not after she had been forced to change herself, needing to rely on the Illidari after working so hard to eliminate them and him.
“Does the bone still choke you, Maiev?”
Since she wasn’t wearing her helmet, he could clearly see her eyes narrow at him. “Bastard,” she growled.
Illidan smirked. “You hate me still, and you preach to to me about ‘teamwork’. A very fine attitude to take, Maiev.”
“This isn’t about you and me anymore, Betrayer. It’s about Azeroth and the fate of her people.”
That made Illidan’s heart skip a beat. The truth of that statement rocked Illidan a bit, considering he hadn’t expected Maiev to admit it, and certainly not to his face. But it also gave him an insight into the woman standing before him now, and she was far different than the woman who’d hunted him across Outland, suffered at his hands as his prisoner, and orchestrated a coup against Malfurion that, while it ultimately failed, put Maiev squarely on Illidan’s level as far as Malfurion and Tyrande were concerned. No, Maiev was different now from what she had been, and she was putting her trust in him because he was the key to saving their world. And he was just the key. It would be the heroes that fought alongside him who would be the ones to save their world.
Maiev’s eyes slid away from Illidan then, toward the sky and the giant planet visible there. Her eyes tracked every rip and tear in the planet, every burst of fel energy Argus gave off, and every shift the land made. “You risked much for so little reward.”
“I’ve done what was needed, as always.” Illidan replied.
“And always on your own.”
“In that, Maiev, we are the same.”
She looked at him now, her face passive. Illidan studied her - and in fact relished doing so, now that she wasn’t out for his blood - and waited for her response.
Maiev had a hard sort of beauty. It was obvious she cared nothing about her physical appearance, such that she never wore any of the face paint or colors that Tyrande seemed fond of wearing. Maiev didn’t much care for finery or jewels or adornments; her armor was plain, her umbra crescent bore no decoration beyond its original forging, and even her Warden’s cloak bore no symbols or fineries. She was simple and performed her missions with a zealot-like fervor. Her face was hard even when relaxed, as if she couldn’t figure out how to simply stop being so serious all the time.
At one time, she would have struck out at Illidan while his back was turned, when he least expected such an attack. She had done it before, after all. But now, she simply watched him as he watched her, her eyes trailing up one side of him and down the other.
Then she finally said, “Don’t think I won’t kill you if you turn on us, Illidan.”
He laughed, unable to help himself. Her eyes narrowed at him. Sobering, Illidan replied, “My dear Maiev, I would have thought you’d understand by now. Everything I’ve done was to stop the Legion. Everything I will do is to stop the Legion.”
“Don’t call me that, and I do understand.” She took a breath as if that was her only recourse to stop herself from hitting him, then stepped past him and out onto a small rise in the land that gave her a better view of Argus in the sky. “You always get your own way, don’t you? Do you ever think about the consequences if you fail?”
Tyrande’s face flashed in Illidan’s mind, broken and bloody and mangled by hordes of demons. His fists clenched and he willed the apparition away. He hadn’t spoken to his brother or Tyrande since his resurrection, and truthfully, that was the one thing he could admit to being afraid of. Illidan looked at Maiev’s back, rigid as it was, and realized that she wasn’t asking out of meanness or to dig in a verbal knife, but because she, too, had her own demons and regrets and fears she was wrestling with. Because her obsession with ending him so long ago had gotten good people killed - people she had cared about - and had rendered her his prisoner, she had been broken to the point of insanty.
“I try not to.” Illidan answered at last, his deep voice soft.
“I’m not exactly on speaking terms with your brother and his wife, either.”
Illidan moved up beside Maiev, but said nothing. He’d heard rumors of what she had done to the Highborne and to Malfurion, and he really wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He might hate Malfurion for pretty much everything, but they were still brothers, at least as far as Illidan was concerned. Yet he still held enmity himself for Malfurion, for his treatment at the end of what was now called the War of the Ancients, so he really wasn’t that angry.
“They have their own ideas about how things should be done,” Illidan rumbled. “While I do what must be done.”
“You sound like Khadgar.”
Illidan snorted. “He yelled at me, too. Amidst the heroes going ‘ooh, pretty’.”
Maiev stared at him. “They didn’t say that.”
“Oh, yes, they did.” Illidan enjoyed the look of pure shock on Maiev’s face. “Some cursed, some pointed excitedly, and I distinctly remember one of them going ‘the laws of physics don’t apply here, do they?’ The look on Khadgar’s face at that one is a memory I will relish for the rest of my existence.”
Maiev’s lips twitched, as if she wanted to smile but was resisting. “Well, when creatures like horses and lions and other such things can fly like dragons, no, physics does not apply.”
Illidan couldn’t help but laugh. A true belly laugh, full of mirth, a laugh he hadn’t laughed in so long, he’d forgotten what it had felt like. Maiev stood by quietly, a smile forming on her lips at last. It was a rare occurrence for her, for both of them, so Illidan mentioned nothing of it when he sobered. Instead he said, “We have not always seen eye to eye, Maiev, but I hope you will continue to aid me in this.”
Her smile vanished. “It’s not for you that I do this, Illidan. But I will continue to watch your back, if only to be the one to thrust my glaive into it, should you turn against us.”
Illidan nodded, as if conceding her point. That was one of the things he could trust about her; at least she told him to his face that she was going to kill him. “Thank you, Maiev.”
Her eyes widened, then narrowed, as if she couldn’t quite decide if he was being serious or joking with her. Illidan decided he would never know the truth about that particular thought process of hers, but he rather liked the way she watched him, studying his face as if she was seeing him for the first time. Him, not the Betrayer, not the leader of the Illidari, not even as Illidan Stormrage, twin of Malfurion. Just him. He realized, too, that this was probably the first time he’d ever seen Maiev as Maiev, not the Warden, not his shadow. Just her.
A strange expression crossed Maiev’s features then. She slowly let her gaze turn from Illidan’s face to the sky, where Argus sat huge and menacing. For a time, the two of them stood side by side in silence, and then Illidan felt a weight wrap around his waist. Glancing down, he realized it was Maiev’s arm. It startled him that she would dare to touch him at all, let alone in such an intimate way. For a second, he thought about asking her why, but decided not to. The message in the motion was clear enough, and it was likely embarrassing enough for Maiev to make such a public display that he didn’t need to call her out on it. But he knew he needed to respond and quickly, so he lifted his arm and draped it around her armored shoulders, spreading his wings slightly as if to maintain his balance, but really it was to try and hide the fact that the Betrayer and Warden were sharing a moment that neither of them would be able to live down if anyone saw.
“I will still kill you, Illidan,” Maiev said cheerily, “should you change your mind about your true purpose.”
“And I will still kill you, Maiev, should you choose to fight me.” Illidan replied just as cheerily.
Maiev’s arm tightened around his waist, then she slipped out from under his arm and sauntered away, leaving Illidan alone watching Argus. Illidan looked down at the hand that had been around Maiev’s shoulders and smiled.
Malfurion may have won Tyrande and Tyrande’s heart, but Illidan decided he was the true victor, for Maiev gave him something to truly fight for.
- 1
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Hate is Love Spelled Backwards and Wrong