Too Afraid to Die Alone

When Hurin and Trieste finally left the lodge they ran face-first into Inacht's ram. The animal snorted in surprise and Hurin reeled momentarily. The dwarf looked down at them with a scowl. He cleared his throat loudly.

"I needed some help with my armor"

"Three and a half hours worth of help?"

Inacht raised an eye brow and stared at Hurin. He coughed lightly into his hand and resettled his weight.

"We had some self confidence issues to address"

Inacht sighed and shook his head.

"well I certainly hope you two ladies are done reading mushy books and eating ice cream. Tyrande is fit to have a heart attack and we're far behind schedule"
Hurin sighed dejectedly and put his thumb and forefinger to his lips, the shrill whistle echoed in the narrow canyon. His charger came around the corner of the lodge huffing and tossing it's head. Trieste's followed beside...awfully close. They stopped together beside their masters and rubbed the side of their heads together. The two paladins looked at each other sideways.

"Men" Trieste huffed.

"Well I didn't tell him to do it!" Hurin exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

The hunter just shook his head and rode off with the two paladins in tow like a shepherd with two lost sheep. The two avoided the questioning eyes of their companions as they gathered at the edge of a clearing beside a Night Elf shrine. Across the open field stood the demon lord Archimond, siphoning the powers from the World Tree. They formed into their groups, drank their potions and elixirs, blessed and fortified each other and prepared mentally. Aevin, their tall, quiet warrior stood out in front alone, making sure each and every muscle was stretched and loose. Trieste was with Hurin, his group's healer. She came to him quietly and squeezed his hand tightly. He squeezed back for a moment before they released each other. Hurin approached Aevin and hit his shoulder, Aevin pushed him back playfully.

"Hey," Hurin said softly, "This is the big one, you ready?"

"See you at the end old friend"

Hurin was quiet. Aevin never spoke before battle, every time he had something terrible had happened. Hurin shook his head to clear the thought and forced a smile. Driscall, a maniac with a blade sheathed in plate armor appeared beside him.

"Lo, there do I see my father, Lo there do I see my mother" he chanted in his low voice, beginning the pre-battle tradition.

"Lo there do I see the line of my people, back to the beginning" Hurin knew the words by heart. He drew in a deep breath and stood tall as more joined in.

"Lo, they do call to me"

"to take my place among them in the Halls of Valhalla"

"Where the dead, may live"

"FOREVER!"

Forty voices rang out as one, forty souls spurred forth across that open field towards battle, towards destiny. Steel met with tainted flesh, one blow smashed Aevin to the ground and Hurin stooped to heave him to his feet even as gold and green magic swirled about his broken body, mending torn flesh, easing agonizing pain, bolstering resolve. Side by side the two men fought, the world around them swirled, blended, faded, and then vanished. It was just them and their foe, locked in epic battle. the demon lord stooped low and swung a massive fist. Aevin swiftly rolled to the side, dodging the deathblow with ease. Hurin dropped flat on his stomach and felt the wind rush through his hair as the blow missed by scant images. It was a move of desperation as life failed the demon lord. Even with the din of battle ringing in his ears Hurin heard the anguished cry and time stopped. Archimond ignored the pesky fleas who sought to kill him and desperately siphoned from the tree again, hoping to gain its powers before he perished. Yet Hurin felt no joy, none of the hurrah that he had felt as the elf lord Kael'thas fell before him. None of the pride he had felt when the naga Lady Vashj had succumbed.

A stout tree had ended Trieste's flight across the valley, her body lay crumpled at its base. A strangled cry leapt from Hurin's throat though he couldn't hear it himself. He scrambled to his feet and raced towards her, away from victory, away from honor and valor, and his legacy. He fell to his knees at her side, alternately babbling and sobbing. Her armor had taken the full force of the blow meant for him and was caved in badly and he tore it from her crushed body. He may not have been a trained healer but he knew the spells of resurrection. He recited the words, funneled his mana into her spirit. the flame flickered briefly but failed to light. Again he tried desperately, again and again. Strong hands grabbed him from behind and pulled him away, he spun and struck out, his gauntleted hand smashed the face the druid who had grabbed him. Aevin and Driscall intervened, holding the struggling retribution paladin between them.

The holy priest Menaley, considered to be the most experienced healer in all of Azeroth knelt beside the paladin. Her own magic flowed into the ruined body as Hurin's gave out and he slumped against the warriors exhausted. After numerous tries the priest shook her head mournfully. Hurin surged forward out of the combined grip of the two warriors. Everyone backed away from him as he stooped to cradle her limp body in his arms, lifting her ever so gently. the crowd was silent as he walked past, tears streaming down his cheeks. Porcelynn cast a strength spell on the paladin and he immediately purged her magic from his body, shooting her a disgusted look that turned her away before continuing on.

He buried her body beneath the roots of the World Tree beside a small pond. Lacking a headstone he took up her shield, ramming the gleaming and bent metal into the soft dirt. For hours he sat beside her resting place, leaning against a tree root and staring into the water. Light footfalls caught his attention but he feigned interest. Porcelynn's smooth voice shook as she spoke.

"We all miss her"

Hurin was silent, he closed his eyes as the tears began anew.

"We wanted to know if you would join us Hurin. Everyone is wai-"

"Everyone can wait as long as they wish" Hurin spat, cutting her off heatedly.

The Paladin sat quietly beside him, her legs pulled up against her chest in much the same way Trieste had. Hurin looked away quickly, his head hurt just thinking about her and it was getting hard to breathe again. She sat quietly as he fought his tears to a halt.

"You're brave brother Paladin..."

"Spare me"

she studied his face as he looked back into the pool of water. Her own heart fluttered and she cursed herself for it. Not only was she finding his sorrowful face attractive but she too should be mourning, not pining over a man. She opened her mouth to speak but a look from him stopped her. He had always been a frightening sight in combat, but when the fighting ended he was always a gentle and kind-hearted man. She feared she would never see that man again.

"I have to know" she whispered at last, "did you really love her?"

Hurin stared at the Draenei woman. His mind struggled. Of course he loved her didn't he? Had they not expressed their feelings just hours before. Had he meant what he felt or had it been mere seduction? He shook his head violently. Of course he loved her.

"You tell me" was all he could manage to squeak.

"From what I saw-" His head jerked up and his eyes widened in shock, "and yes I saw much, you two shared a
physical attraction. As for love..."

Her voice trailed off and she looked away from him to stare into the pool herself. She could feel Hurin's eyes on her so she continued.

"I've never been good at seeing love Hurin. Sure I can tell when people are friends but that's the easy part. No one else can see if you're in love, they have to take your word for it. Everyone's love is different, unique...like my own."

She leaned towards her friend and hesitated. His eyes flashed dangerously and she sighed. Her forehead touched his gently and she stood to leave. He turned back to the pool and she stopped to gaze at him. He was gone, she thought. She would never see her Hurin again.

In the weeks that came to pass the Conclave saw less and less of the paladin. He rarely ever partook in the rituals and inside jokes that were passed around. Often he displayed such ferocity in his work that some even became afraid of him, worried by his potential, his strength, and his temperament. One night just outside the City of Shattrath the dwarf Inacht was halted by a hail from behind. Hurin rode to his side and reigned his stallion to a halt. They met each other's gaze silently, the two had not spoken since Trieste's death. After a long moment Hurin reached into a saddle bag and handed the hunter a bundle of crimson cloth. Inacht took hold of it and as the paladin released his grip it unfurled. The hunter eyed the tabard of the Elysian Conclave and looked up to note that he had not noticed the paladin lacked his ever-present Lightbringing armor. they stared at each other in silence for long moments before the dwarf spoke.

"I understand" He said simply and the paladin nodded.

Hurin turned and rode away towards Shattrath City. The dwarf turned in his saddle and watched him ride off.

"Hurin!"

The paladin stopped short and turned his mount sideways. He met his old friend's gaze evenly.

"Tell me this at least, where will you go?"

The paladin smiled wistfully for the first time in months.

"You know where to find me" He put his hand over his heart and the dwarf nodded solemnly.

"Take care of yourself...friend"

Hurin smiled again and was gone, disappeared into the shadows of the great forest of Terrokar. The portal in Shattrath took him to a quiet Stormwind. He walked the dark streets of the canal district to his quarters in the cathedral district. It had been weeks since he had returned here and everything was just the way he had left it. He packed his bags and readied his gear. That night he fought to sleep, he stayed awake for hours remembering that day that had crushed the spirit from him. He wasn't sure he was ready to face that demon, but the day would soon come when he would have no choice. He wasn't sure when he fell asleep and he wasn't sure what jolted him awake in the middle of the night. The sharp intake of breath that wasn't his, however, immediately had his attention. He thundered from his bed and grasped the shadow by its throat. It squeaked in surprise as he drew his fist back to smash the life from the thief that dared-

A golden light flared and filled the room with an eerie glow. Porcelynn's eyes were wide as she frantically clawed at his arm from within her protective bubble. Hurin dropped her into a gagging, gasping mass on the floor. He hadn't realized he had lifted her off her hooves. She scooted away from him without rising and he watched her coldly.

"Care to explain anything Porcelynn? You were never a good rogue"

She looked away and she rubbed at her neck. It took a sharp grunt to get her attention again and she stammered, fighting for words.

"I h-heard you left...t-told Inacht you were d-done."

"Lucky for you, you were never a good liar either. You heard right."

"Why?"

Hurin really didn't have an answer for that. He had never expected he would have to explain himself to anyone so he had never thought too deeply about his reasons. The first came to him mind quickly.

"To be with her"

Porcelynn regarded him from across the room as she rose to her feet. She didn't see the pain in his eyes, there was little emotion on his face and what was there was hard to read.

"She's dead brother..." she whispered gently.

"Maybe to YOU!" he bellowed.

She visibly shrunk away from him and a small part of his heart crumbled. It was part of the reason he was leaving. He had seen how people walked around him or avoided him all together. Aevin and Driscall had stopped talking to him. He knew why, it wasn't exactly a mystery to him. For weeks he had done nothing but push others away from him and hide within his own shell of secrecy. He sat on the edge of his head and put his head in his hands. Her could hear Porcelynn move closer, brave girl, only moments ago he had nearly beaten her to death.

"Why does everyone want to let her go?" he ask with a wobbly voice.

"We don't want to lose you too" Porcelynn whispered as she kneeled on the floor in front of him, resisting the urge to sit with him.

"No one understands" he whispered gently, the tears threatening for the first time in weeks, "I had just found her, only to lose her just as suddenly"

Porcelynn laid her hand on his head, stroking his hair softly as his shoulders began to quake. She wanted to cry to but told herself she couldn't, she wouldn't embarrass him by crying for her loss over his. She took a deep breath to steady her aching heart. She touched his cheek softly and tilted his face up. She leaned in close to him, thinking back to that night she had yearned so badly to kiss him on Hyjal, to kiss away his pain and his sorrow. Again she stopped herself just short of her goal and she instead rested her forehead on his.

"And I had only recently found you, only to have you stolen away from me"

He pulled away from her, his eyes narrowing as his temper flared. She knelt silently as he stood slowly to tower over her.

"So that's it" he breathed, his voice dangerously cold, "that's why you want me to forget, petty jealousy"

His eyes burned into her and his words stung like blades. She could feel the anger rolling off of him in thick waves.

"No"

He scoffed.

"I was happy for her more than for you. You. I wished you had noticed me"

"But you didn't need me like she did"

"And how would you know!" she cried as she leapt to her hooves. "You never noticed me remember!"

He reeled back from her in shock. The last thing he had expected was to see the timid healer on the offensive. She slapped him hard and turned to leave. He stood quietly and watched her go, the side of his face burned but he refused to sooth the ache. she stopped in the doorway, her hands gripped the frame.

"Where will you go?"

Her voice had already lost its fire, she was her old self again. His silence bore his answer and she heaved a sigh. She turned to look at him again, her eyes brimming with tears.

"And nothing I do will change your mind?"

Again he was silent and it spoke for him. The tears began to fall and she turned and ran to him. She hit him hard and grasped him tight. She buried her face in his shoulder and shook as she cried. His hands moved to encircle her waist but he stopped himself short. He stood frozen, entirely at a loss for words and not sure what to do.

"Please..."

He looked down at her and saw desire in her eyes. Something stirred deep within him and he squashed it, stuffing it back into the hole from whence it crept.

"I'll do..." she started off strong and then faltered, she found it hard to look him in the eye. "...I'll do anything."

He sighed heavily and shook his head gently. She sagged against him and shook harder. They stayed like that for several moments, him silent and detached, her clinging desperately to him. She slowly regained her composure and pressed a shaky kiss to his bare chest. Subconsciously she channeled her healing magic into the kiss and a numb feeling spread through him. He hissed in a breath and stiffened. She jerked and froze. When he opened his eyes they gleamed in the fragile light that shone through his single window. Her eyes widened and she braced for the blow. She squeaked in surprise when he stooped and wrapped his powerful arms around her waist. He lifted her and turned, pinning her between himself and the wall and she reflexively wrapped her legs around his waist. They stayed like that for several moments. The room was silent save for the Draenei's soft panting. Her chest rose and fell quickly and she was shocked to find him staring not at her face, but her breasts. She took an arm from around his shoulders and blocked his view, only then did he look up into her face.

"You said anything"

Her breath hitched in her throat and his smile grew predatory as understanding dawned in her eyes. He darted forward and bit her neck, marking her. She whimpered softly and tried to push his head away. He released her neck and pinned both her hands above her head. She bucked wildly for several seconds but it only served to make her slide down his waist. It was then that she felt it. His manhood pressed hotly against her thigh through their pants. Again she whimpered and his soft laugh rang in the dark room. With his free hand he grasped the collar of her tunic and pulled hard. The weak fabric gave way and she bit her lip to stifle a shriek. He grasped a breast and kneaded it roughly as he ground his hips against hers. She turned her head away and groaned, biting her lip hard and tasting the faint tang of blood.
He turned away from the wall and dumped her on his bed. she surprised him by keeping her grip around his waist and he lost him balance and tumbled down to land atop her. She curled up beneath him, covering her bare chest with her arms yet keeping her tight grip around his waist. He hung over her, supported on his arms as he thought silently. He couldn't figure this woman out, was she too scared to let go, was she trying to keep some tactical advantage, or was this fear an act? Well, he shrugged, only one way to find out. He pried her legs from about his waist and she gasped at his raw strength. He shifted his hips off to one side and repeated his earlier motion with her pants, ripping them in two with ease. His fingers found that sensitive spot and he got his reaction.

"Gnhhh!"

She ground her teeth as she grunted. Her back shot off the bed as she arched and her breasts jumped. He pressed her back to the bed with his weight as his fingers continued to work. She tossed her head from side to side as she squirmed, seeking relief from his relentless attention. He bent his head and flicked his tongue across the sensitive marks he had left on her neck. she jerked again and whimpered. His hands stopped and she opened her eyes. He was moving but in the dark she couldn't tell what he was doing. She got her answer when he plunged into her. She cried out and shook. Her womanhood quivered around him and he had to focus to keep from losing himself there. When she opened her eyes and met his gaze tears frosted her cheeks. He gave her wrists a squeeze where he held them over her head.

"If I let you go will you be a good girl?"

She nodded and he released her hands. He grasped her hips tightly and lifted her rump off the bed, changing the angle and driving his thrusts deeper within her. Again she cried out and her hands fell to his stomach. She could feel the coiled muscles flexing under his skin like liquid iron. Her legs slid up his to lock back around his waist as her eyes screwed shut again. She felt something melt and flow within her being. It pooled and built with each brutal thrust that pounded into her depths. She took her hands from his stomach and splayed them on her own as the heat began to spread, lower, and lower, closer and closer she came. The tidal wave hit. It started slow and built rapidly. At first he didn't hear the noise, lost in the sound of labored and ragged breathing and the slap of bodies meeting. Then it came, the impossibly tight clenching as her squeal rose in pitch and volume. He followed quickly, burying himself as deep as possible as he exploded within her. Her squeal became his name, screamed loudly into the suddenly burning hot winter night.

She awoke the next morning cold and alone. The dull ache in her hips had roused her. She glanced around at his empty quarters. No note, no clothing, not even any food left in the cabinets. He had disappeared while she slept, leaving her with her broken heart and the smell of his sweat on the sheets that swathed her. She hung her head sadly and slumped back into bed, pulling the sheets tighter around herself and nuzzling the pillow that smelled of him.

"Nothing I can do to stop you..."