Sam's Writing Backlog

if you have this link i like you. Its all shit about my elves

Raithel looked out at the sea of undead before him. Clattering bones and steel.He closed his eyes a moment, hearing the assuring words of his commander.“Your strength lies within each other, soldiers! The scourge CANNOT win! Our people will NOT face another attack!”Another attack. His hand gripped the hilt of his axe tightly, memories quickly passing by in Raithel’s mind.Alsudar’s words were strong, certain of the outcome. They would win. They would defeat every undead in these lands, and root out the enemy in their own seat of power.“CHARGE!”Battle shouts filled the air, the sound of steel marching towards their fate. Their victory.It was easy, at first. Raithel’s axe easily ripped the undead corpses in half, easier than wood. It seemed their size was not their strength. A smile crossed his face as it became a number game. His strength was tireless, their numbers endless.“I've had enough of you meddling elves!” a hollow voice boomed. It had his attention.A tall, ghastly rider was charging his way to the front.‘Finally, something fun.’ Raithel grinned, setting his eyes upon the rotting horse. It stopped feet from him, the rider staring directly at him.“You must think yourself powerful, warrior. But how will you fare against a real knight of the lich king?” the voice vibrated in his ears, and the air turned ice cold.Raithel said nothing.The knight slid from the horse's saddle, drawing his sword from its hilt.‘A sword. How dainty.’ Raithel thought, squaring his shoulders.Their weapons clashed aimlessly for minutes, while both sides suffered loss after loss.“You are powerful, Warrior. You will make an excellent servant of the lich king.”Raithel took a step forward, a growl in his voice as he finally spoke.
“I will never serve the one who destroyed my home and slaughtered my people!”“What choice do you think you have, knight?”
Raithel’s body went cold. No, truly ice cold. He looked down at his arms, and they were covered in frost. His joints were too stiff to move.His eyes flew back up, but the knight was gone.And then, he felt it.Cold steel, slicing through his muscle, his bone. He looked down again, unable to breath in or out.For a moment, he could hear his blood drop off the tip on the blade, soaking into the cursed ground he stood upon. Was somebody calling his name?“I will collect you later.” a voice whispered. The blade disappeared from his chest.His own axe fell from his hands, onto the ground, his body quickly after.His eyes stared up at the sky, but he did not see the haze of the plague.He saw her. Melethe. His mind burned with her smile, his hands gently tucking a white flower into her hair. The air smelled sweet and warm.And then it all turned black.

Alor’theon and Lue’theon returned to Silvermoon recently, only a couple of days ago in fact. Several years ago, the twins were sent off by their father, Sian’theon, for what he called an “attitude adjustment”.
‘More like, terrorization.’ Alor thought, his right brow twitching a little bit as he recalled the past few months.Vernone Vanburg. A human. His father’s friend. Alor would have thought he was alright, if he wasn’t constantly smacking him and his brother in the back of the head, or hand, or backside with a staff. Or nearly singeing their hair with his stupid fire magic.
Those months were mostly manual labor. Sunup to sundown, they were pitching hay, tilling soil, building fences, pulling carts, fixing roofs.Alor wouldn’t lie, he was mad at his old man for sending him off with Vernone, but he taught them etiquette and table manners. But most importantly, to his dad, to stop putting sacks of frogs in the neighbors kitchen. And putting pails of water on their windows and doors. Honey on window latches. That sort of stuff. Whatever.The only real good Alor got out of it was a good bit of toning up. Good food and manual labor really puts the muscle on, he noticed.“Think Melethe will be-” Lue started.
“Under the tree with Raithel in the north part of the Exchange? Yeah. I’ll bet you twenty silver he’s playing his lute and she’s reading some old mage guy’s journal from down south in Karazhan.” Alor wiggled his fingers in his brother’s face, watching him lean back as he walked and swatting at him.“I wonder if dad’s serious about this. I mean, skeletons walking around sounds like something out of a kiddy horror story or something.” Lue said, shoving his hands back into his pockets.Shrugging, Alor looped his fingers back behind his head.
“Man, I don’t know. It doesn’t really make any sense to me. But I can’t really imagine a skeleton getting inside the city. Like, wouldn’t they be brittle or something?” he mused, walking around the corner into the Royal Exchange.
He heard birds chirping, the wind ruffling the tree leaves, other elves having conversations with one another. The faint sound of a lute being gently plucked.“Told you.” Alor chuckled, moving towards the noise.Alor saw his sister, reclined against the trunk of a white-barked tree, flipping the page of a much older looking tome, looking completely at peace. A stark difference to himself and Lue, who were much more chaotic and noisy.Raithel heard their footsteps before she did, it seemed, because his gaze went from his fingers, to their faces before smiling a little.
Raithel was a nice boy, Alor thought. Training to be a warrior like his mother and father, but still had a gentle look to his face most of the time.“Hey, Melethe. Dad wants us to join him up in the Spire for a while.” Alor said, jacking a thumb towards the back of the city.“Mmh. Is it because of that scouting report?” Melethe laid a thin piece of fabric between the pages of the book she had, and closed it, finally looking up.“Yeah. Wait, how’d you-?”
“I might have skimmed the report on dad’s desk. Oops.”
Raithel shook his head, a soft smile on his face. He stood up, offering his hand to Melethe.“Will you come with us? I’d feel a lot better if you did, Rai.” Melethe said, letting him pull her to her feet.
“I’ll go check in with my parents, and then I’ll meet you there. Sound good?”
“Sure. Be careful, just in case, okay?”“Alright alright, let's get going then.” Alor said, his voice thick with boredom. He almost wished Skeletons would invade the city at this point.The three watched Raithel jog off, and then the siblings set off themselves.
“Skeletons sound kind of scary. I don’t think I’d want to fight one.”
“They aren’t even real, Mel. I think the scouts had one too many drinks or something.” Alor said, watching his little sister shake her head.
“That doesn’t sound right. What kind of scout drinks while...you know, scouting?”
“Hey, gotta get your kicks somewhere, right?” Alor laughed, but halted when Lue stopped walking.He watched his twin tilt his head, as if he was trying to listen to something. Alor’s head tilted in reflex.“Do you...hear that, Alor?”Silence.“I don't hear any-”
“Shh!” Alor interrupted his sister, holding his hand up.What was that sound?
“It sounds like…” Lue contorted his face, trying to find a comparison. Trying to pinpoint the location of it.
He looked back towards the arch they had just walked though, and Alor mirrored him.
“Like...wood? Rolling maybe?”Now, Melethe heard it too.
“No...it’s more like...patting. Like lynx feet.”
“That's a lot of Lynxes, Mel.”“Maybe we should...get to the Spire.” Melethe tugged on Alor’s wrist, clutching her book to her chest.
“Yeah...I’m thinking so.” Lue agreed, starting to take steps back.“Holy shit guys, look at that.” Alor pointed.
Something came around the corner that wasn’t human. Was it?
It’s skin looked like tattered cloth.
Any blood that was inside of it was long drained, and stained the hanging skin that clung to its bones. It was decayed and rancid, and had strange, gangly limbs that ended in fingernails that looked too big and sharp to be human.“Dude….Gross.” Lue whispered, reflexively taking a step back.
Alor heard his sister gasp, and it apparently heard her too. Its head snapped towards them in an unnatural way, startling all three of them.“Oh shit. Lue, Mel, go, go!” He hustled them back, urging them to run as he watched it start to sprint towards them.
“That way, Mel, this way, into the alley!” Lue pulled her, and Alor followed, curses slipping from his mouth again.There wasn’t just one of them.
Two of them crouched over something in the alley. Alor squinted, trying to inspect the scene further, and he regretted it deeply.
Not something. Someone. And they were eating them.Melethe stifled a scream under her palm.“Shit, shit, shit.” Lue muttered, starting to move back.Alor heard a disgusting noise behind them. It could have been that thing trying to talk, but it sounded like...gurgles and sputters.‘Alright. Forward isn’t an option.’ He turned back around, seeing the thing trotting around the corner.
He pulled out the silver knife looped on his belt.Lue had one just like it. Dad said they once belonged to their mother, Fal’lina Farstrider. In her days as a scout, she protected herself from trolls with these knives.And now, he was going to protect his brother and sister with it.“Lue, don’t let these gross things lay a hand on Mel.” Alor looked back at Lue and Melethe. Melethe was grabbing hold of her brother’s arm, the terror on her face as thick as the stench of blood not three feet from them.
His brother looked like he might be sick, but he was muscling the feeling down.
“Yeah, no shit.”Alor looked back to the...what even was this thing? Was it dead?
No. Dead implied it wasn’t alive. This thing was animate. Moving. Wanting to...eat.
All these things it definitely shouldn’t be doing.‘Alright, you nasty bastard.’ Alor moved himself towards the abomination, grabbing its attention.It gurgled and hissed, moving strangely fast.Alor had wrested lynxes before, and they were fast. How was this thing faster?It swiped at him, and he barely moved his head down in time for it to miss his head.
He drove the silver blade into what he guessed was the torso of the creature and kicked it away from him.He watched it stagger and growl, and he looked back to Lue and Melethe.
The other two in the alley were aware of their presence.Lue had his knife in his hand, Melethe guarded with the other.‘I’ve gotta do something or they’re gonna get hurt.’ His mind raced, trying to think of something, anything.He looked back to the other beast, realizing he had been assessing the situation too long.
It was lunging at him, and he didn’t have a chance to react.It landed on top of him, the gross, fetid skin squishing against his body. It held him down by the throat with one of its hands, and drug its nails down the left side of his face with the other.It was a searing, deep pain, one he didn’t know how to react to at first. He didn’t know he was reacting for a moment.
He could, for a moment, hear himself scream, and then all he could think about was the pain in his face. He could barely see the thing moving to bring its hand down on his face again, and Alor jerked his shoulder to grab the knife still stuck in its gut, and he pulled it out and shoved it into its throat. And then he pulled it to the side.The creature stopped moving. Its hand fell limp onto the ground.Gross, wet matter dripped from its throat and onto Alor’s face.
He quickly pushed it away from himself, trying not to panic or feel the pain he was in.He tried to look back and Melethe and Lue again, but he couldn’t quite see right. He couldn’t find them. All he could hear was that thing’s growling in his ears and -
“Alor!”
His brother's voice? He turned his head about, finally seeing a shade of his siblings, reaching out to him. Or where they pointing?
He turned his head around.Five. Five more of them. Five more of those gangly, growling creatures started to move down into the alley.What a stupid idea. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
The Alley was supposed to be a short cut. Alor and Lue used it all the time to avoid the guards.
But now they were going to die in it.He started to tremble, but he didn’t move. Maybe if they killed him first, Lue and Melethe could figure out a way out of this -Bright, Bright light.
It blinded him before he could move to shield his eyes.Black stars filled his vision, and the knife slipped from his grasp as he moved to touch his face, trying to wipe off the blood and rub out the disorientation.He could hear the sound of steel, the strange gurgling sound stopped.
He could hear Melethe crying, Lue trying to console her. Another familiar voice?“Dad?” he asked, looking around for the figure.“Son? Alor are you-” His father's voice stopped. He could hear his armor clank up, and freeze.“Is Alor gonna die?” His sister’s voice sobbed.
“No, Melethe. He’s going to be fine. Lue, help me get your brother to the Spire. Melethe, come here.”
“What's going on, dad? I can’t see right. I can’t-”
“Alor, I’m so proud of you. You kept your brother and sister safe. They’re safe now. Not a scratch on them, you know that?” He heard his dad talk while Lue pulled Alor’s arms over his shoulders.“Good. Good.” he mumbled, pressing his uninjured cheek to the back of his brother’s shoulder.
“God Alor, you’re heavy as fuck.” Lue said, but Alor barely registered it.Everything was swimming and dark, and his dad and sister looked like shadows. He let himself close his eyes.--
When Alor woke back up, he felt something strange on his face again. And he had the strong suspicion he was being watched.He opened his eyes, his vision feeling...wrong. His hand moved to touch the left of his face, and somebody swatted his hand away.“Don’t touch that, boy, you’ll make it worse.” Alor turned his head to look up, a priest looking down at him apologetically.“The hell?” he sat up, immediately feeling nausea in his stomach.
“Ugh…” He looked around slowly, his brother and sister asleep on a couch, huddled under a blanket, across from the bed he was laying in. His father was watching him carefully from the doorway.“What happened?” Alor asked him.Sian’theon’s face looked grim and defeated. Alor could see, under his armor, he was bandaged too.“I...don’t know son. Those undead and Arthas...the Sunwell…” Sian shook his head, uncrossing his arms and rubbing his temples.“We’re trying to restore order to the city. Find survivors. I'm only stopping in to check on you three.”Alor had so many questions. Undead? That's what those things where? Arthas? What did he do to the Sunwell?Alor felt his bones chill.“What’s wrong with my face?” Alor asked, and he watched his dad fight a pained expression.“Alor, you’ve been out for seventeen hours. I think you need some more sleep.”
“Don’t dodge my question dad. What happened to my freakin’ face?”
His hands moved again to try and touch his eye.
Bandages. It kinda hurt underneath, but it felt...wrong somehow.“Son…” his dad sounded exasperated.
Alor’s hands started to tremble.
“Leave those bandages on, boy. Take it easy and rest.” Alor watched as his dad sat next to him on the bed, sighing quietly.
“Alor. Listen to me. You did what you could. You did what you knew to do. And look,” he gestured to his two siblings, sound asleep a few feet from them, “they’re safe because of it. You fought hard and took a pretty nasty swipe from that creature. These priests are doing everything they can to get you healed up.”Alor swallowed.
“I’m going to be able to see right again, right? When this heals I'm going to be able to see again?” He asked, but it sounded more like begging leaving his mouth.
His father took a long, long time to answer.
“No, son. It was deeply infected. Ruptured. If they left it, you would have died. How you are seeing right now…”
“Is how I'm going to see forever?” Alor sounded weak, and he flopped back down onto the bed.“I’m afraid so.”

these are not in order sorryLute
------------“Melethe.”
The mage looked up towards the doorway from her book, her expression lightening upon seeing her knight.
“Oh, you're back!” She realized quickly Raithel was hiding something behind the curve of the door.“What do you have, Rai?” She bookmarked and closed her book, putting her feet back on the ground.“You remember when we were younger, and I had that lute?” He asked, a smile growing on his face.Melethe’s smile mirrored his.
“Oh, how could I forget? You were very good at playing it. I loved to read while you played under that tree in the courtyard.”“Well. I think you'll like this.” He stuck out his hand into the doorway, and in it was a wooden lute.The wood looked smooth and worn, a warm, deep color.“Oh! Do you remember how to play?” She asked as Raithel sat next to her.“Guess we'll find out.” She watched as his hands tried to familiarize themselves once again to the strings, his head tilting a bit as he listened to the sound each note made.Melethe waited as patiently as she could, but the last she heard him play was when they were very young teenagers.She looked from his hands to his face, appreciating the focused look upon it. His eyebrows furrowed a bit, his lips slightly parted as his tongue softly clicked a familiar tune, his fingers trying to follow.Soon enough, their home was filled with the same tune he had played so long ago, that reminded Melethe of the warm spring of Eversong. She closed her eyes and thought of home, smiling at those memories close to her heart.Her older twin brothers chasing each other with sticks. Her father's defeated sighs at trying to get them to stop. A young Raithel's amused laughter.“Cut it out, one of you will poke an eye out!”
“Alor keeps puttin’ frog spit in my shoes!”
“...where does he get frog spit from?”“Love?” Raithel's voice called her back to the present, her eyes fluttering back open.
“You're crying, are you alright?” He ran a thumb below her eye, and she used her sleeve to dry the other.“I'm fine, I'm fine. It just...reminded me of some good memories.” She smiled and took his hand, kissing the tip of his fingers.“I hope you intend to keep this one and not break it.” Melethe laughed.Raithel shook his head, chuckling quietly.
“This was hard enough to find. I think I'll be keeping it.”------------------------------------------
DreamsHer breath was calming.
Even. He could tell when she dreamed, when her sleep was restless.
He could hear her gentle breath, each even heartbeat. His favorite might have been the warmth her body generated.
It brought him peace, her cheek against his collar bone, blissfully snoozing away the hours.Sometimes, Melethe would have nightmares. They were less frequent now, but before, she would shiver in her sleep.
Her eyebrows would furrow down, her lips quiver.
Her heartbeat would become erratic, her fingers would clinch his soft shirt.When she cried out his name, it became too much to bear. He would wake her; do what he could to calm her.
Press his lips to her forehead, smooth down her hair, gently stroke her back until she falls asleep again.She would never tell him what she dreamed of.
But he imagined her nightmares were one of two options.
One, she dreamed of him being...the monster that he was, after he died. Before he broke free of him.
Or two, which he considered most likely, if he knew Melethe, was something taking him away from her. Again.
This one hurt him more.
He knew she feared it. Perhaps she still did.He knew this is why he himself didn't sleep.
For him, sleep is an unnecessary act. He doesn't need it; he feels no different from when he sleeps to when he wakes.
Once, he did allow himself to nod off with Melethe in his arms.
He dreamed of snow and ice. He dreamed he was too late. He dreamed of holding her body, drained of all its color, all its life. He dreamed of her blood spilling onto his hands, her throat gasping for its final breaths; dull eyes; trembling shoulders.When he woke to Melethe's even, sleeping breath, he knew he did not need sleep.
What he held in his arms was far more restful.--------------------------------------
At The GatesHe hated the disappointed look on her face.
She had been trying so hard.
Spells, books, speaking with other mages.
But Melethe couldn't figure out how to break the barrier holding back his memories.Raithel could feel it there, like a brick wall holding in a part of his brain. There were little pieces here and there, tiny slivers of what used to be peeking through, but not enough to put together a memory.
It was like deja vu each time he looked at her.He knew she didn't want to give up on him, but now she was tired.
Her head rested on a book on the desk, her hair falling over her shoulders in long, honeyed locks.Slowly, she picked her head up, a page slowly unpeeling from her forehead, frustrated tears in her eyes.“We're in the most powerful, magical city in all of Azeroth, and still…” her hands gestured to the book, then herself, then they fell into her lap.He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to help.All he knew was that she had given him direction in his undeath. Whenever she felt she was onto something, she needed this plant or that essence, he felt a powerful obligation to protect her, as if it was an age-old promise.It wasn't that she was vulnerable, but she sure did look it. And considering how he had met her… he didn't want to take a chance.Besides, he liked being near her. He wasn't sure before, if he could like anything. But he liked her.Raithel leaned against the bookshelf, a quiet look on his face.“Perhaps...it's time to assume my memories won't come back, Melethe.” he said gently, but he could see her cringe.She hid her face a moment, turning and closing the book. She brought her hand to her face, sniffed, and then stood to put the book back in its place.“I suppose so.” Melethe said quietly.Raithel's gut twisted. The tone of her voice hurt his insides, and he tried to think of something, anything he could say to make her feel better.“If you’d have me...at least allow me to accompany you back to Silvermoon.” He requested.“How could I tell you no?” She smiled a little, grabbing her bag from the corner of the room.“Alright.” She breathed out, whispering an incantation, her hands creating a shimmering barrier of swirling, bright magic.
“Step inside, Raithel.”He was amazed by the mage's powers. The ability to poke holes into reality, create portals across the world was phenomenal.He barely blinked, and they were in a new place.“The mage's sanctum.” Melethe said quietly, walking out into the courtyard.Raithel stopped.
His eyes took in everything.
The golden trees. The stone paths. The pond with waterfalls...the guards. It was overwhelmingly familiar.For a moment, he remembered something.He turned as if he was watching a child run back up the red carpet, into the sanctum.He looked confused, as if his mind was in another world.“Raithel? Are you alright?” He heard Melethe ask, but his feet began to move on their own, and his mind didn't allow him to answer.He walked so quickly, Melethe had to jog to keep up with him. He didn't stop until he reached the forge.“I remember this place. My dad taught me how to use a forge here. I made my...first sword here…” his fingers touched the soot stained rocks that lined the pit, and Melethe said nothing.He moved down the stairs, stopping in front of some floral shrubbery.
“Here…” he frowned a bit, looking at Melethe.
“I beat up a couple of kids here for throwing rocks at me and hitting you with one.” Melethe nodded patiently, glimmering hope in her eyes.He kept walking, this time, not stopping until he reached the exchange, and he almost felt overwhelmed.This is where he first met Melethe.
This is where she would read every day, and he would look for excuses to come. Eventually he didn't need one. He would play the lute for her, and she would read history books to him.He kept walking, stewing in his mind, only stopping when he reached the front gate.He could practically see the memory unfolding in front of him.Saying goodbye to Melethe. Mounting up on that hawkstrider, not knowing he wouldn't return.What a stupid, stupid mistake. What a fool he was. He remembered completely now. He understood now, why Melethe tried so hard to find him. To remind him.He looked down, staring at his boots for a long time.“R... Raithel? Are you alright?” Melethe asked, and he shook his head, turning to her.It felt like for the first time in a long time he looked at her. Really, really looked at her, though unclouded vision.He saw everything he fell in love with before he went to die.Those round, blue-green eyes, full of concern. The freckles on her cheeks. The wavy, warm hair that fell to her sides. The soft, pink lips that spoke words for him.“I'm thinking...about what a fool I am.” He laughed without humor, reaching out to touch her cheek.She looked surprised, and confused.
“What are you talking about?”“I was so blind to your feelings before...why did it take me dying and forgetting it all to realize them?” He whispered, moving closer to her small frame.“You remember?” She asked, her face flushing as he tilted her chin up.“I remember you. I remember falling for you.” He looked into her eyes, feeling himself become absorbed by her gaze.
“I was too much of a coward to tell you before, but now I won't let you go, Melethe Managaze.” He muttered, gently pressing his lips to hers.They were warm and soft and just like he had imagined them.
Immediately, he felt her shake, and felt he had overstepped. He pulled back and began to apologize, noticing a line of tears rolling down her cheeks.Any feeling of doubt was washed away when she reached up, lacing her fingers around his neck and planting her lips right back on his.He held her close as her head rested against his neck, still shaking.
“Just... don't go anywhere like that again okay? Don't leave me alone again. Don't leave me wondering if you're alive.” Her voice was full of hiccups, and he smoothed her hair down again and again, hoping to calm her.“I'll forever be by your side, Mel. Wherever you go, I will follow.” He whispered into the top of her head.He would not make the same mistake twice.
He would be her sword, her shield, from whatever would bring her harm. Now, the only thing he had left to lose was her.He would not lose her.--------------------------------------
some soft shit idk
--
He took his time looking at her. Her soft, unscared skin. Her pink, soft lips. The way her sides curved, he traced those gently too. So long he had waited.
He was waiting even when he didn’t remember.It wasn’t that he was afraid to touch her - he was afraid to hurt her. Even as a child, Melethe was soft, gentle, and seemed afraid of pain. She shied from anything that could hurt her.She did not shy away from him.Her breath, her skin, lips, were all so warm.
The pressure of her fingers on the back of his shoulders, perfect communication that she wanted him closer to her body.He pressed his lips to the crook of her neck, a slight smile crossing his lips when he heard her giggle.“Something's funny, love?” He leaned up, amusement in his eyes.He watched her hand reach up, fingertips touching the scruffy patch under his lips.“Ticklish, that's all.” she smiled, it slowly fading as her fingers traced down to his chest.She looked...sad.
Raithel quietly sighed, pressing the palm of her hand against the scar on his sternum, watching her face.“Did it hurt?” She asked quietly, so quietly he strained his ears to hear.He pressed his lips in a fine line, and closed his eyes. He didn't want to lie to her, but he was tempted to.He would love to tell her he didn't remember.
But he did.
He remembered the sword piercing through his back, and out of his chest. He remembered the painful gasps for air. He remembered slumping to the ground, hearing the screams and clashing of metal.“Not anymore.” He said, opening his eyes and smiling at her.
He pulled her hand up, kissing each fingertip carefully.
“And as long as you are by my side, it never will.”

Lue held out a piece of cooked fish to the grey cat. It sniffed it for a short while, before deciding it was up to its taste.“Not too bad, huh?” Lue muttered, watching as the cat took the fish from his hand.He had taken to this cat. It was a skinny thing, with wiry hair and crooked whiskers. A part of its ear was missing, and it had a scar on its muzzle. He could only assume this was from fights with other cats.Lue sighed and stood up straight, looking up into the clear starry sky above Dalaran.This floating city had all types of people in it.
Travellers and adventurers came and went. Most residents either owned shops, or, like his sister, were mages, here to study under the Kirin Tor.And then, there were those like him that stuck to the sewers under the city.
The Underbelly, they liked to call it. Full of his “kind”.
Those who would stab you in the back for a bit of coin or a meal. Or pick your pockets if you weren't careful. Or trick you out of your gold. Or all three.He, Lue’theon Bloodhowl, fit into the “all three” category. And he was quite good at all three. Quiet perfect, really.'Well, almost perfect.’ the annoying thought crossed his mind and his hand moved to his shoulder, feeling the deep scar that moved over his shoulder and down his back.He wouldn't call it a flaw in his skill. Oh no.
He found it to be, more of a misplaced trust.
The lesson that day, he learned, that there was truly no honor amongst thieves.Several Months Prior“Can you really call it a crime, if they don't know you nicked their coin?”
Lue listened quietly to the chatter from the bar, from the other side of the room.
He placed himself in the shadows, picking at his nails with a knife.'Of course, idiot. Even if you don't get caught, a crime is a crime. That's the fun of it.’ Lue thought, shifting his hearing to another part of the room. Though the clicking of glasses and scooting of wooden chairs, he picked up on another conversation.“I told Shallie Copperwrench she had a nice pair. She thought I was talking about the gun scopes she had just made. Goblin women these days…”His face contorted a bit, and his eyes scanned the room. He locked eyes with a strange looking human.
And by strange, he thought deranged. His clothes were nice, but they seemed unkempt. Maybe a few weeks ago his hair would have been freshly groomed. His eyes had dark circles underneath, but his pupils were pinpoints.Lue hooked his knife into his belt, and left out the back door.
If this man was interested in his services, he’d follow easily. Although Lue wasn't confident this man would have the coin…Lue waited, perhaps four minutes before the man came out.Strange, he walked like a nobleman.“Are you..?” The man started to ask carefully,
“The Shadowblade? Yes.” A streak of annoyance was in Lue’s voice, and it echoed in his brow.
“Prove your coin and tell me your target.”The man pulled a sack from his coat pocket, opening it and showing it to Lue.It was indeed full of gold coins.
“It's...my wife. You'll find her at Ashburrow Estate in the southern part of Grizzly Hills.” The man dropped the pouch into Lue’s hand.Lue wasn't overly fond of killing women. Especially daughters and wives.But, a job is a job.“Consider that half a payment.”
Lue raised his eyebrow.
“My wife... she's gone absolutely mad. Kicked me out from my own home and shackled my son in the cellar. Please, free my son. Get rid of that madwoman.”Why did this last name sound familiar? Ashburrow…“It’ll be done.” Lue said simply, stepping back into the alleyway and melting back into the shadows.He slipped down into the sewers, back into a nook in the stone. He pulled out a set of greyed stones and pulled out his travel bag. A few poisons, some rope, a map, and a few gold pieces laid in the bottom of the bag. A few matches were strewn about in it as well.
One never knows what he might need.
He stuck the pouch full of gold into the wall, and peeked inside of it.It had been a struggle to save up this much, especially with his gambling habit, but he felt he must be close now. If he could start up an underground trade, this amount could look like pocket change in no time.He grinned to himself as he replaced the bricks quietly, and peeked around the corners to insure he left as he came: unseen.He headed down into the sewer, pulling up the mask that had rested around his neck, to cover his face.
This served a double purpose - to block out the smell of the sewers, but also to conceal his face from the other denizens of the Underbelly.Most were almost as shifty as him, but not as dangerous.
There were a few he kept an eye on, however. Particularly the goblins and the forsaken. He never trusted goblins. And he definitely did not trust the undead.Lue made it out to the open sewer pipe that stuck out from the floating city. He looked to his left and grabbed a hold of a piece of rebar that stuck out from the pipe.He pulled himself out and up with one hand, not bothering to look down. He had done this one hundred times now. His hands knew where they were going.His right hand reached up, grabbing ahold of a piece of jagged stone, and he began to climb up until he reached a small alcove where his Dread Raven sat waiting.He had won the chick in a game of blackjack, and raised it into a trusty mount.He had been keeping it with his sister until the bird had gotten much... larger than he thought it would. Lue had to hunt for this spot, borrowing his brother's griffon to circle the floating city until he found this spot.It was a wonderful hideaway underneath the city. He usually slept here, evidenced by the thin pillow and blanket his Raven was sitting upon.“Strap, you know that's mine.” He grumbled as he gestured to it, and the bird huffed and cawed quietly, stretching its wings and standing to move closer to its master.Tonight's errand would be simple.
Kill a crazy woman, and free a kid. Easy money.“Lets go, Strap.” Lue climbed atop the large bird, looking up to the revealing sky as the bird soared away from Dalaran, to the east.--The huge bird's wings descended the mercenary down. He guided Strap to land in the trees, nearby the manor. It was dark enough now that he could inspect the building without any suspicion from inside, but just enough light for him to see the manor itself.It was a withered, aged building. The wood had a greyed quality to it, ivy growing up the clay brick supports. The home seemed to house many rooms, but he couldn't see inside from here.“Stay here.” He whispered to the bird, planting his feet firmly on the thick branch they landed on, before hopping down to the earth silently.Lue pulled one of his daggers from his hip, moving swiftly to the side of the house. Breaking in would be child's play.
Ever since he hit his adolescent years he had a knack for slipping in and out of places. His footsteps oddly quiet, his intuition sharp; by the time he was a proper adult there was no safe nor door he couldn't open.He moved around to the back of the house and was pleasantly surprised with a cellar hatch. The lock was horribly rusted and easily popped open with his blade.The hinges squeaked as he opened the two wooden doors, but he didn't think it was quiet loud enough to alarm anyone in the house.Sneaking down the old stairs, he noticed candles were lit in the cellar. Lue kept to the walls and crept close to the wooden shelves that organized the cellar in a circular pattern. They were filled with wood for fires, stacks of old scrolls, and the occasional withered book.That old man said there was a boy down here. Lue moved closer to the middle, and peered through the shelves, seeing there was indeed a small child there.He wondered if it would be easier to knock the kid unconscious, or tell him to escape out of the hatch he himself came down…
No. It would be too dark outside for a child to survive in the woods alone. He would be eaten by wolves or something worse.Lue decided this would come second. He moved to the other set of stairs that lead up into the house. A locked door at the top of the stairs didn't keep him out long.He found it let out into the kitchen, and he could hear creaking footsteps on the old wooden floors above him. Lue moved quietly around the manor, easily finding the stairs up into a common room that split into three separate upstairs rooms.The sounds came from the leftmost one. The door was open, and only one candle was lit in the room, on the nightstand next to the bed that was centered inside.
With the candle lit and the night now onset, it was easy for him to slip into the room and into the shadows, between the wall and the bureau. He watched the woman for a time.She sat at a vanity, brushing her greyed hair, humming to herself. He wouldn't have found this odd if she wasn't an undead.
Her skin began to rot at her elbows, but her face only began to sink in.
She hadn't been like this long, and he had many questions for this Mr. Ashburrow now.He would have to go a step further now. It wouldn't be as simple as dagger in, dagger out. This would behead her and burn the body.Fortunately he had matches.He readied his blade, and moved quickly and suddenly across the room. Her face only had enough time to look surprised before he beheaded her.Gods, he hated the forsaken. He looked at his blade, now caked with dried, old blood. Gross.He sighed and wiped it off on the bed, and sheathed it on his hip for the time being. Setting his backpack down where her body was once sitting, now fallen over on the floor, he retrieved and struck several matches on the wooden wall, dropping them onto her body.“This will be your last death. You're welcome.” Lue muttered, grabbing his backpack and stepping over her body, now moving more quickly, now that there was only the child left in the house.And, it was about to be on fire.He hustled back down both sets of stairs, startling the boy down in the basement.He was a cute enough child, Lue supposed. He had chubby, freckled cheeks and dark messy hair.“Who are you? What's that weird smell?” the boys chains around his wrists jingled as he asked an outpouring of questions to, that Lue quickly tuned out.Lue's common was a bit rusty, but he did his best to speak the child's language.“Your father sent me to get you out of here.” He said simply, fussing with the keyhole on the boys wrists.“Hold still and shut up. You're making it hard to- ah. There we go. Can you walk? Run preferably?” Lue asked, and the child quickly nodded.“Good. Then follow me, and keep quiet.” Lue started to walk back to the stairs leading back to the hatch.
But a strange noise stopped him.
Lue turned his head back, and the child was gone. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, and he looked to the bookcases.He only moved quick enough to miss the worst of the weight, but the child had picked up an axe from the woodpiles and climbed the shelf closest to the stairs.Lue turned as the child came down, and the axe blade dug into the muscle just below his left shoulder, slicing that skin open.He took a deep breath in through his teeth and tensed, immediately reaching with his right hand, grabbing the human child by the throat and picking him up.“What's that about, huh? You wanna burn with your dead mother upstairs, little brat?”“Dad says even if she's dead she's still better than a stinkin’ elf!” The child stuck out his tongue, and Lue did his best to not crush the child's windpipe.‘He’s just a kid, Lue. Take it easy.’ he told himself, but his pride was sorely wounded.A blow to his person, dealt by a child, no less. It filled him with irritation, but he had questions for this child.Lue knocked the axe from his hands and carried him up the stairs, tuning out the cascade of insults the child spit at him.As soon as he was back outside, Lue pressed the kid's face into the dirt and put his knee to his back, a blade to his throat.“Who is your father? Start talking. I want to know who he works for.”“Wait, wait Mister! S:I7! Geez, you're heavy, lighten up!”Ah, so that was it then.
S:I7 was the Alliance's special ops force. Now he had even more questions.“What's your father's first name?”
“Hudson! It's Hudson! I can't breathe, get off me!”Lue tried to decide what to do with this child. He would grow up to become an enemy of the horde for sure. Especially since now, Lue was soon to kill this Hudson Ashburrow. His father.He thought carefully for a moment, the wound on his shoulder throbbing, the wound on his pride moreso.But, it was still a child, despite what his ego told him to do.“Tell you what kid. When you get older, and you still hate me, come find me. We'll settle it then.” Lue flipped the dagger in his hand and whacked the child on the back of the neck with it, ending his wriggling.Lue let out a series of whistles, calling down Strap from the trees. He hopped up and laid the human boy down on his lap.He would drop him off at the neighboring human settlement, right atop a roof to be precise. Either he would wake up and have to climb down, or he would roll in his sleep off of the roof and get a rude awakening. Either thought was amusing enough.And so, Lue left back for Dalaran, knowing exactly where he was going.His sister's couch, so she could chastise him while she bandaged his wound,(he knew she would do this, because she did the same for his brother) and wait for Hudson Ashburrow to show himself again.He gave the operative credit. He had Lue fooled quiet well, he even spoke his language in a fair amount of gold. Unfortunately for this human, however, for whatever reason he had targeted Lue, he would not be an easy target like that.‘But getting a child to do your dirty work…’ Lue gritted his teeth as he guided Strap into the alleyways near Melethe and Raithel's home.
“Go back to the Alcove, Strap. You did a good job. I'll bring you some seed soon.”He watched the raven fly off into the fading starry sky.

(Legacy, no longer canon)She heard a sharp pull of breath though his teeth and froze, looking to her friend's face.“I'm sorry, Rai... I may be a tailor, but I'm no medic.” She sighed, her eyebrows pinning up in concern.“Its alright, Mel. You're doing better than I would.” he smiled gently at her, relaxing again.Some undead from the Scar had snuck up on them while they were preoccupied with a pair of Amani trolls from the north. It almost got very bad for them.Now, in this abandoned arcane sanctum they sat, huddled close to the wall. Melethe was doing her best to stitch Raithel's arm to help the bleeding. They were so far from Tranquillen… and so far from help. The two young elves only had each other now, and the younger ones eyes constantly flicked fearfully to the door.“Melethe...nothing will find us in here. The undead aren't smart enough to check and the trolls think the sanctums are bad voodoo or something.” Raithel reminded her, wincing a little as the hook needle went a bit too deep into his arm.He looked to her as she let out another shaky sigh, doing her best to tie off his stitches.Her ponytail was a mess, her bright red robes sullied and torn at the hems, patches of dust and dirt covering it everywhere. Even in this current state, he still thought so softly of her. Even if something were to bust through those doors now, where her eyes still lingered, even in his beaten state; he'd die before anything could touch her.“Hey…” his hand reached out to her cheek, directing her eyes back to him.
He brushed a bit of dirt from her cheek as he spoke, his lips smiling as he watched a small tint of pink flush on her cheeks.
“Don't worry about it. Don't you remember the promise I made to you?”
“Rai, that was four years ago.”
“Have I broken it yet?”Melethe blinked a couple of times, her eyes shining a bit. A quiet laugh escaped her as she shook her head.“No.”
“So why would I now?” He said gently, dropping his hand to the floor.“You made that promise when the Houndcaller boys were throwing pebbles at me. I didn't know it still applied.” She spoke honestly, light humor in her voice.“Mmmmh.” He hummed, closing his eyes, smiling at the memory. Even though he was so young then; he knew that when he met Melethe, he wanted to be at her side, to keep her safe.“Are you alright?” He had asked her. He watched sadly as she pushed away tears from her face with her little hands. His eyes had scouted the book from the corner of his eye. He knelt down to pick it up, to hand it to her.“Here...I think you dropped this.” He had said, gently taking one of her hands and placing the book in it.Her shoulders hiccuped but her tears had stopped, and she looked at him in wonder. He stayed kneeled down, peering up at her with a small smile on his face, tilting it so he could see hers.“My name's Raithel, what's yours?”He opened his eyes again, to watch Melethe put those sewing supplies back into her bag.The words were on his lips, and he wanted to tell her how he felt. They caught in his throat, and he swallowed them back down. He couldn't stand the thought of driving their friendship away with such a confession.He sighed quietly instead, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the adorned grey wall.“Anytime you need me, I'll be there. I promise.” He whispered, echoing the past.

Melethe's boots clicked softly on the stone floor, the soft purple glow of the prison cells turning her red robes a richer color.
She didn't want to be in here, if she was being completely honest. To speak to the man that was moments away from beheading her would be no easy task. The stares of other...inmates didn’t help calm her nerves.
But Khadgar had assured her that this was the way to obtain the information needed.
And with Raithel beside her, she felt thousands of times safter.Her husband. Her protector. Her guardian. Her friend.
It was his axe that stopped San’dron’s from slicing through her throat.Their footfalls stopped in front of his cell.
Melethe stopped breathing.
He was chained tightly against the wall, stripped of all but his pants. Not even his hair was tied up anymore. It flowed red rivers over his demonic horns, down the sides of his face, and over his shoulders. Not even his blindfold remained, revealing fully the three long scars over his left eye. His violence was only sedated in a light rest that stirred as soon as they approached.He looked up, his eyes burning right through her. His head cocked in bemusement, a sharp flash of teeth following.“Oh, Miss Managaze. What do I owe the pleasure?” His voice felt as if it grabbed her by the throat, draining the last bit of air from her lungs.She swallowed, steadying her expression.
“How did you know where to find me? How did you know about the Nightborne Soulstone?”“Oh, it was quite easy, really.” His shoulders shifted.
“I just followed the scent of the weakest mage on the broken isles. It led me straight to you.” he chuckled, and Melethe's brow twitched.‘He’s trying to provoke you. Do not let him, child.’ Aluneth whispered in her mind.“I highly doubt that. How-” Melethe started, but San’dron slammed himself against his chains, visibly startling the small woman, cutting her words short.He laughed cruelly, his eyes never leaving Melethe.
“Do you really think this prison will hold me long, girl?” He started.
“When I break out of here, I will find you first. And I will batter and bruise you, just like I did before. And then, when you're on the brink of passing out, when you're just conscious enough, I'll finish what I started and cut your pretty little head right off your body. And then, I'll tell your CORPSE HOW I LOCATED YOU!” he growled, straining against his bindings, staring at the back of Melethe's head.He could hear her heart beating quickly, even over the prison's buzz of the wards. Though the purply barrier, he could see her frame shake, ever so slightly. Yes, he didn't have a doubt.
She was terrified of him.
Good.“There's no point in this.” Melethe said, beginning to walk back towards the front of the prison. She couldn’t do it. Khadgar would have to find another way, or write it off as a coincidence.“Just know, San’dron, in the event that you do break free of this prison, “ Raithel approaches the cell, making strong eye contact with the demon hunter. He looked all too satisfied with himself.
“You will never touch a hair on her head. And I'll kill you myself.”Raithel seemed a worthy opponent. He managed to hold him off until other mages arrived to bind him. But, how would he fare without a safety net, San’dron wondered.“We will see about that, guard dog.”

The morning air was thick and humid. It buzzed with insects, and echoed bird calls. The sun just began to rise over the basin line, and Alor was awake.He was not only awake, he was hunting. He had been tracking a dreadsaber for the last hour, and he was finally upon it. So far, it was a flawless track. Bare feet made his steps silent. The only clothing on his body, truly, was a pair of ragged shorts. He had not found a need for much else, even if the temperatures in this tropical landscape would allow it.He watched the large cat for a moment, as it stopped to scratch its nails down a nearby tree. He found this an excellent opportunity to notch his bow and draw it.Thunk.An easy kill. Alor finally relaxed his shoulders and stood up straight, moving to claim his prize. But, not before he retrieved his arrow.He bet Hemet Nesingwary fifty gold that he could hunt for a whole month with one arrow. It was halfway into the month, and so far, so good.Alor hefted the dreadsaber over his shoulders, and began his walk back to camp.It had taken Alor some time to adjust to being without his twin, but he'd never admit it. Lue had become quite secretive of his whereabouts, and one day he simply didn't return to Silvermoon. He wrote a letter saying he had gone to Dalaran, but never said why. Alor tried not to think too hard about it. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.As for himself, Alor had wanted to test himself against one of the greatest hunters of word of mouth, Hemet himself. But after Alor discovered the dwarf used a gun to hunt, he became much less interested in him and more interested in the basin itself.
It had unique wildlife and temperatures, compared to the rest of Northrend. Northrend was a frozen wasteland, but this place had found a way to be tropical, and full of game and fruit trees.Alor plucked a fruit from the branches as he walked, a crisp snap as he bit into it. As he ate it, he couldn’t help but wonder how his sister was.Last he checked, she was doing God knows what in Dalaran with that undead husk, what used to be Raithel. His nose wrinkled in disgust. How she could simply look past that he was just another undead now was beyond him.But then again, if it was his brother, or god forbid, Melethe, he wasn’t sure he’d simply be able to kill either one of them, either. But for fuck’s sake, he didn’t even remember her anymore.Alor’theon tossed the core of the fruit and hoisted the dreadsaber back up his shoulders, thinking this might be his last hunt here for a while. He wanted to at least check in on her, on Lue, maybe even his father. See how they were faring out in Northrend.He knew none of those city-dwellers could find him out in these wilds. He’d have to go to them.

The small mage was waist deep in the snows of Northrend. Her body was freezing, but the fire inside her wouldn't let her be still, nor feel the cold.She was exhausted, but her feet refused to stop. She had to keep looking for him.It felt like so long ago she waved him off from the gates of Silvermoon, not knowing he would never return to her. It felt so long ago her feelings caught on her tongue, yet written on her freckled face, clear to anybody else but him.'Be safe, okay?’ she said instead of what was really on her mind.
'I love you. Please come back to me.’ her heart begged that day.Despite his promises, no warrior ever plans to die.Or to be risen in undeath, for that matter.She was terrified of what this meant. Would he be the same Raithel she so desperately fell in love with? Worse yet, did Arthas still hold sway over his mind?She refused these possibilities. If she began to believe them, everything she has done would be for nothing. She would still be lying in heartache in her room.Melethe breathed out an icy breath, her body desperate for shelter, a place to sit, something besides this snow and wind.But these lands feed off of weakness.Melethe heard a strange, but all too familiar sound of bone and steel clattering begin to prick her ears, a few yards behind her.She turned her head, her soft brown curls pulling over her shoulder, her expression growing dire.'No...how many…?’ her mind began to race as it begged her body to move faster.But not faster than the undead scourge behind her.‘How did they even find me?’They were mindless undead. They couldn't be spoken to, or speak. They only let out grunts and screeches, pulling themselves along as they looked for adventurers like herself to turn into a meal.Realizing she would have to fight, Melethe did her best to get closer to the mountains, where the snow wasn't so deep and the wind didn't whip her face.She could see her shoes, so that was progress enough.
But they were so close. And there was more than she anticipated.They eyed her hungrily, moving closer and closer. The undead were far more dangerous in packs. And this was nothing short of one. She knew if she attempted to fight them, she would be torn apart. No magical shield could hold long against this many. There had to be twenty, maybe even more.A voice spoke in the back of her mind.
'Run, run!’Her body acted quickly, beginning to flee desperately towards the mountains, to the cover of the nearby towering trees. The rocks hidden in the snow made it harder and harder to move quickly, and her mind could feel the closeness of undead claws swiping at her back, barely pulling through her long hair.Just one misstep and - pain shot through her ankle and she tumbled, her staff flying from her grasp, her head slamming into the rocky snow beneath her and her body rolled, becoming covered in powdery, dry snow.She let out a quiet whimper, her left leg burning in pain.Her mind reminded her of the fate of so many elves before, but in her home city. Screams and the sound of undead, much like the sounds she heard now. She couldn't avoid this fate it seemed.She was going to be ripped apart, devoured, by mindless undead. Her brothers, her father, would never know.'Unless you get up!’She propped herself up on her elbows, greeted by the sight of the undead pack alarmingly close to her. They couldn't have been less than seven or eight feet away from her now.“Stay away from me!” She screamed, casting up a magical barrier between herself and the undead. Their beastly hands beat against it already, and she knew she didn't have much time.
She had to start moving.She did her best to turn herself, get herself to her feet, but the pain was unbearable.
She couldn't stand. Yet alone walk or run.Tears started to fall from her eyes as she heard another sound, different from the sounds of the scourge.
A steel sound, a...horse?Gold, black, and glowing red hooves appeared before her, sliding in just as her barrier fell apart.The rider moved so quickly, she didn't get a chance to see them.But she heard the sound of bone and rotten flesh being cleaved, but her eyes were locked with those of the horse.Fiery red, staring her down, postured as if it was either defending her, or its rider, she wasn't sure. It did seem to understand she was no threat, but as well to watch to be sure she didn't move. Its hooves stamped at her side, she was sure it wouldn't let her go anywhere, even if she could.It wasn't long before the noise of steel stopped.She hadn't noticed, but her wide, unblinking eyes still had tears rolling from them, and she didn't think they could have gotten any wider until she saw him.His face was smooth, oddly calm for having just destroyed so many undead.
His hair was as dark as a Crow's feather at midnight.
That all too familiar pair of eyes looked to her as he moved to calm his horse. Different, now though. A pale, icy blue.“Easy, Warmare. This girl is of no threat.” His voice. Oh, how she missed his voice so desperately. If she wasn't in so much pain, she might think she was dreaming.He moved to her, kneeling next to her, trying to offer his assistance.“Raithel.” Her voice barely breathed, the sound barely audible to even herself, yet his elven ears caught them as he assisted her to a sit.And his face turned confused. His eyebrows furrowed as he studied her round face, searching her wide, green eyes.“I know you, don't I? From...before.” he asked, and she nodded, hiding the emotional pain in the physical one.“Do you... remember me? Im...Melethe. Managaze.” She watched his face as she said her name, watching it flash several emotions, even wincing a bit as if his head suddenly hurt.He breathed out quietly and looked away.“We should get you somewhere safe, Melethe. We aren't terribly far from Tunka’lo, we can get you patched up there. Waremare, fetch her staff.” The horse snorted loudly in irritation as she went, but Raithel wasn't truly focused on the Warforged beast he claimed as a steed.He gently picked up the wounded mage, careful of her injured leg. Cradling her to his chest easily, he moved to his steed, now holding Melethe's staff in its mouth.Melethe's mind felt as if it ceased to function. Between the pain from the back of her head and her leg, to the realization of the closeness of her death, only to be rescued by the man she was searching so desperately for.
Only to not be remembered by him.Oh, the irony.

Raithel was afraid to touch her. He didn't completely, inside and out, understand how strong his touch could be. So much strength and power came with his undeath.What if he were to grab her a little too roughly, his fingers press down a little too hard? He loathed to imagine the bruises, or worse.But he could not stop himself from thinking of her. He closed his eyes and his eyebrows knitted together, thinking of her breath in his ear, her fingers in his hair. How soft her skin would feel under his lips. How her voice would sound when he--“Raithel?” A shiver ran up his back as he opened his eyes, returning his face to a neutral, passive expression.Melethe was looking at him from across the room, a book from the study in hand. She had a soft, worried look upon her face.“Yes, love?”
“You seem troubled.” She commented, setting down the book on the end table, atop five other books she had yet to return to their homes.“A bit yes, actually. I worry these books you are amassing around the house will never find their way home.” He chuckled, straightening himself from his lean in the doorway.He watched her cheeks puff, and her brow furrow together as she set herself on the couch. It was a childish expression, and he half expected her to stick her tongue out at him.Raithel moved himself to the opposite of the couch, the topic heavy on his mind.Melethe held the book in her lap, opened to the first page, but her eyes were trained on him.Ah, her eyes. His had turned an icy blue months ago, but hers...while they were green from the fel, they seemed to be turning lighter...perhaps even a softer, deeper blue. He couldn't help but get lost in them every chance he got.“What's really on your mind, Rai?” Her voice was soft, careful. She didn't ask often out of respect for his thoughts, but she knew when his mind was full of them. Rather it be that she could sense the energy, or read him that well, he didn't know. They surely knew each other long enough for the latter to be the case.“You.” He admitted quietly, watching one of her eyebrows raise.They had this discussion before. After Raithel regained his memories in Silvermoon, after the first time he had kissed her, he had left bruises on her wrist, her lips. Touch was still a mystery to his hands, he didn't know how roughly he handled her.He knew in that moment of gut-wrenching realization, he would hurt her if he let his passions take hold of his mind. He had missed her so, but his fear of bringing her pain held back his hands from touching her skin ever since.She tried her best to understand, but there was hurt underneath that expression. He knew she had missed him, and he couldn't imagine the trials she had gone through to find him. He didn't want to ask. He didn't want to know.Slowly, his hand reached out to her cheek, fingertips softly brushing between the freckles that dotted her skin. He watched as she leaned into his hand, her eyelids lowering a bit in relaxation. Her hands slowly closed her newly chosen book, letting it slip to the floor.He always amazed her. Melethe had always trusted him in every sense, to a fault. She never once blamed him, or herself, but the universe instead. She had gently laid her life in his hands long ago, and he knew he would die to protect it. Looking at her now, he never regretted this.“I know...there are things. Both of us want. Need.” He said, her eyes snapping open to lock eyes with him. She stopped breathing, and Raithel sighed.“I'm not saying now, love. But…”
“You want to try?”
“If I were to hurt you…”
“You won't.”His expression softened, and he was beyond amused.
“Your trust in my self control is misplaced, love.” He moved closer to her, placing his lips on the side of her temple, gently breathing in the scent of her hair.He was confident there was some sort of enchanted dust in it, from her work today down in the trade district of Dalaran. They smelled like strange magics, but not at all harsh or displeasing.Raithel felt Melethe's hands upon his biceps, begging him forward, even closer to her own.It was enough. He gently guided her shoulder down against the arm of the couch with his hand, his thumb running across the arteries and veins in her throat, his eyes watching his hands every move, as if he was monitoring it.Her blood sang under his touch. He could feel her pulse quicken, her breathing, how she swallowed a bit nervously. How easily one of his hands wrapped around her small neck.How amazing she was. He flicked his eyes to hers, and she was already looking at him. She trusted him still.“Did you know…” he whispered quietly, raising his hand up, so only his fingertips touched her skin, barely pushing an indention,
“You have an artery here...and here...here...” his fingers gently moved along her throat, stopping just underneath her chin. Her skin formed goosebumps, and he began to retract his hand, for fear he had hurt her.It almost alarmed him, how quickly both of her hands grabbed his, attempting to pull his fingers back to her.“You aren't hurting me. Look.” He looked to her skin, and she was right. It was an even ivory color, not even a touch of red interrupted its flawlessness.He licked his lips, chewing on the lower on for a moment.“Which one is most important?” She asked, and he looked confused.
“What?”
“The arteries in my neck. Which one is most important?”He couldn't help but breath out an amused laugh. She was good at distracting him.But yet his fingers returned, this time to the right of her neck.“They're all important, love.” His fingers traced up and down the humming veins as he spoke, knowing she was listening.“Your carotid, your jugular... scapular... they're all important. They carry blood back and forth between that beautiful head of yours, and,” he paused, looking thoughtful as his fingers brushed over her red and golden robes, to the thumping organ that kept her truly alive.“Back to here.” He breathed out. He craved to touch the skin underneath. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes, letting his mind fill with the beating under his hand.This is what was most important. Not a single thing mattered more. Nothing ever would. To keep this heart beating, the way it was now, was his only charge now.“Are you alright, Rai?” Melethe's gentle voice returned him, his eyes opening up again to look at her face.He smiled at her, his expression easing once more.
“Yes. I just...needed a moment.” He leaned over to kiss her forehead, before speaking again.“I don't think the couch is the proper place for this.” he gently wrapped his arms about her waist, standing as he pulled her to him.Gods, she was light as a feather. Her hands rested on his shoulders, a surprised look on her face, yet she did not seem nervous.In fact, she moved to kiss him, and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his lips, even more so when he felt hers mirror.Muscle memory carried him to their bedroom. He had walked here one hundred times, or more, in the darkness while Melethe slept.While she required sleep, Raithel did not. He could sleep if he wanted to, but he found what laid next to him to be more appealing than any dreamscape could offer.The sound of his footfalls changed as the flooring shifted from tile to soft rug. He leaned forward, gently dropping Melethe atop their bed, his lips only leaving hers when he went to pull his shirt over his head.He took her in all over again. The way her curled hair pooled about her head. The freckles that dappled her cheeks. The soft, pink lips he was so eager to return to.He pressed his lips back to hers, his hands light as a feather over her shoulders, down her waist, beginning to gather up the fabric of her robes.“Rai.” Her lips broke, her voice shaky.He immediately froze.
“My love?”
He pulled back an inch to examine her face.
Her face was flushed in reds and pinks, darkening those freckles on her cheeks.Oh.
He had forgotten.
“If its too much-”
“N-no! It's not that. I just…” Melethe swallowed quietly.“You know I'll take care of you, love.” He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, and then her cheek, behind her ear.“I know, I'm sorry. I'm just…”Raithel slid the cloth off over her head, tossing it on the floor next to his.
“Beautiful.” He whispered quietly.
She quite was.
Her body was slender, petite. Her skin was kissed all over with freckles, warmed by the sun.
Without a thought, he moved his hands ever so gently to her ribcage, watching how his thumbs overlapped each other as he felt along her sides, up past her chest, to her collar bone, her shoulders.“The Titans handcrafted you, love.” He mused as he looked to her, watching a shy smile dance across her face.“I was made for you.” she whispered, and for the rest of the night, he knew it was true.