The Legion - Lyelleth & Orannis
folder
+S through Z › World of Warcraft
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
6,456
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S through Z › World of Warcraft
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
6,456
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own World of Warcraft, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
When Night Falls
Author Notes: This chapter contains graphic descriptions of abuse, and references to rape and torture. Not a pretty place folks, you have been warned.
Aaaaand… I’m writing a Thrall/Jaina one-shot, just because I can, and the plot bunny has been annoying me, so keep an eye out for it. Sorry this chapter’s so late, I got a new job and the stress put my muse on strike. My Hunter, however, is now level 70 and on her first raid killed Gruul.
I love my guild :)
Lazy_Wolf: Yes, but that’s because Gravitation is just… *collapses into small gooey heap*
Boreguard: *gets Wok of Furious Vengeance* Mwhahahaha
ileyna: (I know I spelt it wrong, I suck) I love, love, love “A Different Spirit”!
--
She hadn’t jumped.
Orannis tried to ignore the relief that flooded him as he saw her; lilac-skinned frame leant on the railings, bathing in the light of the full moon. It was then he noticed how the light affected her, skin lit with a silvery glow, and his breath caught. Lyelleth was *Moontouched*.
How had her people missed this? Night Elves that had this ability were said to be the Blessed of Elune, her chosen children. Was this why her father had hated her so? In his warped mind, had she become the image of a Goddess who apparently spurned her children in their time of need?
Shaking his head, Orannis stepped out slowly onto the balcony, as if approaching a skitterish wounded animal, yet she seemed not to notice him, locked in a trance, staring at the moon, even as he slid his arms around her and lifted her surprisingly light frame up from the floor.
“Full moon, my friend; she might as well be unconscious for all she’ll notice you,” A cold, quiet voice said, “I’m going to assume this… carnage isn’t your responsibility?” The voice belonged to the Undead Apothecary Williams, who stood in Orannis’ receiving room, looking around at the furniture Lyelleth had upturned in her flight and shaking his head. “What *did* you do to her?”
Orannis scooped the Night Elf up in his arms, and stepping away from his balcony, carried her into the room, and then settling his charge on one of the larger chairs, ensuring it still caught the fullness of the moonlight, the Shaman re-entered his quarters. “I, did nothing, simply returned from my duties to find this… this insanity. However, that is not the reason I sent for you.” A pause, “I have your oath of confidentiality?”
“Orannis,” Williams said dryly, “We served together in the Legion since its inception, you have saved my life countless times and I yours. But yes, you have my oath.” Soulless golden eyes again looked over the Night Elf. “So?”
“Someone entered my rooms and assaulted her.” The Orc said quietly, and sighed. “I plan to re-ward my chambers and limit those who have free access. I have no proof who did this, Williams, but…” He let the sentence drift, but his meaning was clear.
“Hmm,” Williams’ expression did not alter. “And the reason you sent for me?” The apothecary looked back to his former comrade.
“I need your services; specifically, healing potions – those for older wounds – and Dreamless Sleep; lots of it.” Orannis grimaced, “I doubt my kind of healing will help with more than superficial wounds. I have no experience with handling Night Elves in the healing manner anyway.”
Williams said nothing for a moment, simply looking over the Elf before removing a notebook from his robe and making a quick list. “I will get started straight away,” He assured the Shaman, “I… my former self… Night Elves are tricky to deal with, Moontouched ones doubly so, but I believe I can help her.” Unspoken questions hung in the air, and the Orc was grateful for his friend’s silence on the matter. Answers would come later, once he had worked them out himself.
“Whatever ingredients you require, check my vaults, I have a substantial cache. If it is not there, make use of my account with the Auction House, I have already cleared it with them.”
A nod, then, “Cover her with a blanket, leave out food and water, and do NOT close the doors. Let the light heal and restore her, it may not undo all the damage, but it will probably save her sanity… if there is some left to save. I’m impressed she survived this long without training if I am honest Orannis. The Moontouched are… dangerously unpredictable. She will be confused when she wakes and the spell breaks.” Golden eyes met grey-green. “She will be strong, Orannis. The moon powers her in ways even the Night Elves did not fully understand, full moon makes her at her peak – She will be weakest when it does not shine in the sky. Do not share this information lightly, my friend. And if it is more information you seek, speak to your Druid friend, I have no more to give on the subject.”
Before Orannis could respond, Williams had vanished, leaving him alone in the eerie silence of his suite to sit and wait.
--
Lyelleth finally stirred several hours later. She hurt from the tips of her pointed ears to the nails on her toes, with more specific cacophonies on pain around her wrists and pelvis, senses strangely dulled and mouth dry. After one abortive attempt to get up from where she assumed she had fallen asleep, she gave up, whimpering at the sunlight that was beginning to trickle into the room. Gods but she *hurt*…
And then the memories came crashing back like a lightning bolt through her mind, images flashing in front of her eyes until everything became clear, and she cried out, unable to prevent the long, low keening sound filled with anguish and sheer, blind terror, thrashing against the suddenly restrictive blanket before falling off the chair and onto the floor into a heap of broken and confused Elf.
Gentle arms slid about her, lifting her battered form slowly back onto the seat, settling her down before closing the shutters, blocking the sunlight that seemed to burn her skin. Slowly, Lye opened her eyes, looking up at Orannis who stood with his back to her, leaning against the wooden doors almost reverently, as if praying.
“I know it wasn’t you,” She managed, biting her lower lip and looking to the floor as he turned. “I remember… flashes. I don’t even know how he got in here.”
“I don’t… I *didn’t* ward my suite. I never had to before. I…” The shaman swore under his breath. Why was he explaining himself? What was it about this woman that got under his skin so? “It won’t happen again.”
“Orannis… I…” The Night Elf forced herself to look at the Orc. “I’m sorry,” She said quietly, “I don’t know what else to say.”
He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead with his hand in a gesture of exhaustion. “I don’t know what to do with you, Night Elf,” He admitted quietly, “And to be perfectly honest, this isn’t what I expected.” Standing against the shutters he had so hurriedly closed, Orannis continued. “If I could, I would just return you to your people, but even if done quietly someone would find out, and then neither of us would be safe. Lyelleth…” He looked up, trailing off.
The Night Elf stood in front of him, long silver hair a shimmering veil that hid most of her nudity as glowing silver eyes met his grey-green, “I knew I would be in danger coming here Orannis, if I’m honest, I expected to die for my sins, but this is *not* your fault. You should not take the blame. I cannot go back, and by now I expect you know why.” Her tone became self-disparaging as she gestured toward the shutters, “What good is a spy paralysed by the moon? A Night Elf who is allergic to its light?” The words sounded like a script, something she had heard repeatedly. “So Dashkern believed.”
“Paralysed? Allergic?! That bastard! He never told you, did he?” Fiery anger shone in Orannis’ eyes as he unthinkingly gripped her arms, keeping her gaze on his. “Be glad your father is a permanent resident in the Dream, Night Elf, for I would put him there myself if I could. No youngling should suffer as you have, be lied to, *broken* the way he did to you. By Doomhammer Lyelleth, you have no clue… None at all, do you?”
Realising he was shouting, the Orc stopped, releasing her gently, thumbs rubbing over the impressions he had made on her arms apologetically as he drew a deep, calming breath and exhaling slowly. “You are *gifted Lye, not cursed, and I will explain everything to you soon, but know this – I may be a fool trusting you, but cross me and your initial expectation *will* be fulfilled.”
Aaaaand… I’m writing a Thrall/Jaina one-shot, just because I can, and the plot bunny has been annoying me, so keep an eye out for it. Sorry this chapter’s so late, I got a new job and the stress put my muse on strike. My Hunter, however, is now level 70 and on her first raid killed Gruul.
I love my guild :)
Lazy_Wolf: Yes, but that’s because Gravitation is just… *collapses into small gooey heap*
Boreguard: *gets Wok of Furious Vengeance* Mwhahahaha
ileyna: (I know I spelt it wrong, I suck) I love, love, love “A Different Spirit”!
--
She hadn’t jumped.
Orannis tried to ignore the relief that flooded him as he saw her; lilac-skinned frame leant on the railings, bathing in the light of the full moon. It was then he noticed how the light affected her, skin lit with a silvery glow, and his breath caught. Lyelleth was *Moontouched*.
How had her people missed this? Night Elves that had this ability were said to be the Blessed of Elune, her chosen children. Was this why her father had hated her so? In his warped mind, had she become the image of a Goddess who apparently spurned her children in their time of need?
Shaking his head, Orannis stepped out slowly onto the balcony, as if approaching a skitterish wounded animal, yet she seemed not to notice him, locked in a trance, staring at the moon, even as he slid his arms around her and lifted her surprisingly light frame up from the floor.
“Full moon, my friend; she might as well be unconscious for all she’ll notice you,” A cold, quiet voice said, “I’m going to assume this… carnage isn’t your responsibility?” The voice belonged to the Undead Apothecary Williams, who stood in Orannis’ receiving room, looking around at the furniture Lyelleth had upturned in her flight and shaking his head. “What *did* you do to her?”
Orannis scooped the Night Elf up in his arms, and stepping away from his balcony, carried her into the room, and then settling his charge on one of the larger chairs, ensuring it still caught the fullness of the moonlight, the Shaman re-entered his quarters. “I, did nothing, simply returned from my duties to find this… this insanity. However, that is not the reason I sent for you.” A pause, “I have your oath of confidentiality?”
“Orannis,” Williams said dryly, “We served together in the Legion since its inception, you have saved my life countless times and I yours. But yes, you have my oath.” Soulless golden eyes again looked over the Night Elf. “So?”
“Someone entered my rooms and assaulted her.” The Orc said quietly, and sighed. “I plan to re-ward my chambers and limit those who have free access. I have no proof who did this, Williams, but…” He let the sentence drift, but his meaning was clear.
“Hmm,” Williams’ expression did not alter. “And the reason you sent for me?” The apothecary looked back to his former comrade.
“I need your services; specifically, healing potions – those for older wounds – and Dreamless Sleep; lots of it.” Orannis grimaced, “I doubt my kind of healing will help with more than superficial wounds. I have no experience with handling Night Elves in the healing manner anyway.”
Williams said nothing for a moment, simply looking over the Elf before removing a notebook from his robe and making a quick list. “I will get started straight away,” He assured the Shaman, “I… my former self… Night Elves are tricky to deal with, Moontouched ones doubly so, but I believe I can help her.” Unspoken questions hung in the air, and the Orc was grateful for his friend’s silence on the matter. Answers would come later, once he had worked them out himself.
“Whatever ingredients you require, check my vaults, I have a substantial cache. If it is not there, make use of my account with the Auction House, I have already cleared it with them.”
A nod, then, “Cover her with a blanket, leave out food and water, and do NOT close the doors. Let the light heal and restore her, it may not undo all the damage, but it will probably save her sanity… if there is some left to save. I’m impressed she survived this long without training if I am honest Orannis. The Moontouched are… dangerously unpredictable. She will be confused when she wakes and the spell breaks.” Golden eyes met grey-green. “She will be strong, Orannis. The moon powers her in ways even the Night Elves did not fully understand, full moon makes her at her peak – She will be weakest when it does not shine in the sky. Do not share this information lightly, my friend. And if it is more information you seek, speak to your Druid friend, I have no more to give on the subject.”
Before Orannis could respond, Williams had vanished, leaving him alone in the eerie silence of his suite to sit and wait.
--
Lyelleth finally stirred several hours later. She hurt from the tips of her pointed ears to the nails on her toes, with more specific cacophonies on pain around her wrists and pelvis, senses strangely dulled and mouth dry. After one abortive attempt to get up from where she assumed she had fallen asleep, she gave up, whimpering at the sunlight that was beginning to trickle into the room. Gods but she *hurt*…
And then the memories came crashing back like a lightning bolt through her mind, images flashing in front of her eyes until everything became clear, and she cried out, unable to prevent the long, low keening sound filled with anguish and sheer, blind terror, thrashing against the suddenly restrictive blanket before falling off the chair and onto the floor into a heap of broken and confused Elf.
Gentle arms slid about her, lifting her battered form slowly back onto the seat, settling her down before closing the shutters, blocking the sunlight that seemed to burn her skin. Slowly, Lye opened her eyes, looking up at Orannis who stood with his back to her, leaning against the wooden doors almost reverently, as if praying.
“I know it wasn’t you,” She managed, biting her lower lip and looking to the floor as he turned. “I remember… flashes. I don’t even know how he got in here.”
“I don’t… I *didn’t* ward my suite. I never had to before. I…” The shaman swore under his breath. Why was he explaining himself? What was it about this woman that got under his skin so? “It won’t happen again.”
“Orannis… I…” The Night Elf forced herself to look at the Orc. “I’m sorry,” She said quietly, “I don’t know what else to say.”
He sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead with his hand in a gesture of exhaustion. “I don’t know what to do with you, Night Elf,” He admitted quietly, “And to be perfectly honest, this isn’t what I expected.” Standing against the shutters he had so hurriedly closed, Orannis continued. “If I could, I would just return you to your people, but even if done quietly someone would find out, and then neither of us would be safe. Lyelleth…” He looked up, trailing off.
The Night Elf stood in front of him, long silver hair a shimmering veil that hid most of her nudity as glowing silver eyes met his grey-green, “I knew I would be in danger coming here Orannis, if I’m honest, I expected to die for my sins, but this is *not* your fault. You should not take the blame. I cannot go back, and by now I expect you know why.” Her tone became self-disparaging as she gestured toward the shutters, “What good is a spy paralysed by the moon? A Night Elf who is allergic to its light?” The words sounded like a script, something she had heard repeatedly. “So Dashkern believed.”
“Paralysed? Allergic?! That bastard! He never told you, did he?” Fiery anger shone in Orannis’ eyes as he unthinkingly gripped her arms, keeping her gaze on his. “Be glad your father is a permanent resident in the Dream, Night Elf, for I would put him there myself if I could. No youngling should suffer as you have, be lied to, *broken* the way he did to you. By Doomhammer Lyelleth, you have no clue… None at all, do you?”
Realising he was shouting, the Orc stopped, releasing her gently, thumbs rubbing over the impressions he had made on her arms apologetically as he drew a deep, calming breath and exhaling slowly. “You are *gifted Lye, not cursed, and I will explain everything to you soon, but know this – I may be a fool trusting you, but cross me and your initial expectation *will* be fulfilled.”