The Legion - Lyelleth & Orannis
folder
+S through Z › World of Warcraft
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
6,458
Reviews:
22
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
+S through Z › World of Warcraft
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
9
Views:
6,458
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.
Grounding
Iley – I will hold chapters to ransom until you update – and if you’re on the EU servers I’ll just have to chase you round til you post!
This chapter is dedicated to FireyJen – now go do NaNo woman!
--
~ Five Months Later ~
The bottom of the bed sunk under her weight as Lyelleth sat tentatively on the bed, knees tucked underneath her as she settled between his thighs. Long, slender purple fingers wrapped slowly around his length, and the Night Elf bit her lip as she tightened and loosened her grip experimentally. Orannis groaned deeply, trying to resist the urge to buck his hips as she stroked him slowly, taking in the feel of him for the first time. She was luminescent, her power shining through, lighting the Rogue from the inside as she knelt on the bed, testing her new found sexual awareness on him. As her grip grew firmer and more assured, the Orc lost himself in the sensations, drowning in the effect her gentle touch was having, eyes snapping open as he felt her hair slither against his thighs, and the softness of her breath on the tip…
Fire flared through the Shaman’s veins as his wards revolted, and Orannis jerked out of his fantasy and dived off the bed, still painfully aroused, barely having time to pull on his pants before he was out of the bedroom door, senses racing. “Lyelleth?”
“Or…Ori…” The sound was faint, and fear tore through him as he ran to the balcony, “I… Nahdeer… Take me to Nahdeer…” Lyelleth was curled up in the foetal position, lit aflame from the inside like lightning caught in a bottle, yet her skin was icy to the touch.
[Nahdeer!] He called, touching on his communication stone, [Lyelleth… She’s dying…]
[Take her to Moonglade; I’ll meet you there,] The Druid replied, [Remain calm, Ori, for her sake if not yours.]
--
Nahdeer drew the blanket up over Lyelleth’s shivering form, shaking her head as she rose. “This isn’t good Ori,” The Druid said softly, meeting her friend’s worried gaze, “I’ll have to get Roshann.”
Orannis nodded at the mention of Nahdeer’s mentor; Lyelleth had flatly refused to travel to Moonglade even after Nahdeer’s discussion with her, still fearing for her life, and after hearing why the Druid had agreed to relay information. It appeared her efforts had been in vain.
“Nahdeer… Your tutor Roshann, will he… recognise her?” The Shaman asked quietly, looking over at the Night Elf.
“No.” Nahdeer replied quietly, “I can guarantee it. Ori, Roshann is blind, hence why he is a tutor. She is safe, I swear to you.” The Tauren woman laid a gentle hand on her friends shoulder, “Trust me.”
“I do,” He replied quietly, covering her hand with his, “Go quickly Nahdeer.”
When the two Druids returned, Orannis had seated himself at the foot of the bed, eyes fixed on Lyelleth. He did not turn to acknowledge their presence, instead choosing to simply rise. “What do we do?”
Roshann shook his blue-haired head. “I can feel the power in her Nahdeer.” The tutor said quietly, “Why did we not know Moonsong had a daughter so strong?” That comment drew Orannis’ attention, and his furious gaze flew to Nahdeer. “Dashkern should have told us… Ah, but that man, his arrogance knew no bounds.” Unaware of the exchange of glances between his pupil and her friend, the Druid continued, stepping slowly toward the bed. “Such damage! But I sense repair also, and not that long ago either. At least, to the physical; her mental wounds will take much longer to heal, Shaman.”
That drew the Orc’s attention. “How do we help her? What did you have her do that put her in this state?”
The Night Elf snorted disparagingly, “As much as I could when the child was being so stubborn, Shaman. I understand her reasoning, but hiding away when we could have prevented this?” He sighed, “Now is not the time for recrimination, however. My instructions were simple; she was to meditate during full moon, to learn how the power was absorbed and affected her. The problem, which I must admit is partially my fault, is the girl has no idea of magic, and so has been absorbing vast amounts of lunar energy, until she got herself into this state. Damn that egotist, if we had been able to train her from birth, she would have been an excellent Druid…”
Sightless milky white eyes connected with Orannis’ grey. “Just because I am blind does not mean I do not see, Shaman. My pupil had no need to tell me who she was – I have ears, I know that Dashkern’s daughter was handed over to the Horde. There are those here who would not have shed a tear over her death. I am not one of them. Now, to save her from this… madness requires something of a sacrifice, both from you, and her.”
“What kind of sacrifice?” Ori replied quietly, gaze returning to his charge.
“At the very least, some privacy, at the most… possibly your life,” Roshann replied simply, his bowed form holding a purple-skinned hand over Lyelleth’s forehead. “We have only one recourse: to sap the power from her, mute it. Quite simply, we shall have to throw her to the Moonwell.”
The Shaman made a choked, spluttering noise, “We’re going to *what*?”
“Did I say ‘we’? I meant you,” The male Druid shot back, “That much power draining out would kill a Night Elf, even an unTouched one, and the side effects… Well. You are the only choice Shaman.” He walked away from the Rogue, pausing in the doorway, “In about fifteen minutes, every resident of Moonglade will be in the main cabin for the Silithus briefing. You will have half an hour to leave the centre and go to the south-eastern Moonwell. Keep her head above the water Shaman, the last thing we need is to sap out her power only for her to drown. Call Nahdeer when she awakes, I am having no more of this non-attendance nonsense!”
--
Even after Roshann had explained – in detail - what was to happen, Orannis had his doubts. Carrying his burden quickly and quietly through the deserted town was no easy feat; Lyelleth was clearly in pain and losing the fight against that which overwhelmed her, and her soft whimpers tore at the Orc’s heart in ways he did not feel able to deal with. Instead, he concentrated solely on arriving at the small gazebo that encased Moonglade’s second sacred well.
The Orc stepped gingerly into the chilled waters of the Moonwell, its mists immediately enveloping him with a cool silver caress. Within a few steps it was waist high, and he had to hold the Night Elf aloft to keep her from its embrace until he reached the centre point, a small circle of light denoting its position. Only then could he tentatively lower his burden into the water, supporting her under her arms as he did, hoping that nature would take over.
Almost as soon as she was submerged, the water began to bubble, not increasing in temperature but clearly reacting to something, and Lyelleth whimpered, twitching in his arms. Taking a deep breath, the Orc released her, and the resultant reaction knocked him to his knees, stealing his breath and almost submerging him, light exploding from her body in a blinding flash. Ori closed his eyes instinctively, but images flared inside his head as the power of her release linked his mind to hers...
The house was cold and quiet, mother and child looking at each other with anxious eyes. Since the pollution of the Emerald Dream, Dashkern’s mood had altered, and now the pair feared his homecoming instead of welcoming it.
A rap at the door drew Cal’Endre away from her daughter’s side, and she whimpered, trying to cling to the Sentinel’s arm. The older Elf smoothed her daughter’s hair back with a half-smile before going to answer the summons, body taut with anxiety as she opened it.
“NightBlade, you have to come quickly, we’re being attacked!”
Lyelleth whimpered softly as her mother argued with her comrade, before bowing her head and acquiescing, signalling the young girl to go to bed. Shaking, she obeyed, wrapping herself up into as small a bundle as she could within the covers and trying to calm herself. She had been asleep for only moments when he returned, slamming the door back with such force the house shook, dragging the child out of bed and snarling.
“Where is your mother?”
“She… the Sentinels…” His daughter stammered as he shook her violently. “You’re hurting me!”
The image faded, and another coalesced within the Orc’s mind.
Again she was asleep, a little older now, touching the face of womanhood as the moon kissed her purple skin, lighting her with a gentle glow. Again her father broke into the room, but the power kept Lyelleth asleep. For a moment, there was absolute silence, before Dash’s form rippled and shifted, giving way to his feral side, violet-pelted and sharp-clawed. The cat-Druid leapt silently onto the bed, unsheathing its nails and raking them down her back; still no reaction, but she was awake, aware but trapped inside her skin as he tore at her flesh, roaring his anger into the night….
Feeling sick, Orannis fought the link, and the Elf screamed in pain, the light still leeching from her body into the water. Gasping, he stopped his battle and struggled to keep his head above water as the mental assault continued.
“You are dirty!” Dashkern roared, “Dirty, filthy tainted bitch!”
“No, no Father… I didn’t do this on purpose!”
“You are barely a century, Lyelleth, yet you accept the embrace of adulthood so freely!” His face was inches from hers, silver eyes almost nova in their anger as he gripped her arms, “You bleed like a whore.”
“But Mother said it was natural…”
“What does she know of nature? Is she a Druid too? I think not. You are a crippled blight on our people Lyelleth, and you will *never* propagate!”
Too late she noticed the blade in his hand, and the next moments were a blur of pain and fear as it tore across her belly, slicing into her womb, and Lye fell backward onto the floor, and into unconsciousness.
When she woke, her mother stood over her, murder in her eyes. Whimpering, the Night Elf crawled backward on the floor, terrified Cal’Endre believed as her father did. A tortured sob was wrenched from the Sentinel as she unsheathed her swords and stalked angrily into their shared rooms. Paralysed by fear, Lyelleth called up powers she did not know she possessed and stepped into the shadows, stealthing herself, blocking out the sounds that flooded from her parents rooms.
Hours later, Dash emerged, blindly walking through the door, his wife’s blood soaked into his finest robes.
Anger tore through the Shaman then, sheer, blind fury at what the Druid had been allowed to do to his family, but it seemed Lyelleth’s torture was not over yet…
“I know he killed your mother Lye,” Valrendis murmured softly, and the Rogue wheeled about to face him.
“You know nothing!”
“I shared the Dream with him. I know. He is why you had to leave, to train with the Humans, why our people cast you out. And I can assure you, Rogue, he is no more.”
“… You killed him?!”
“She was my sister! I *had* to!”
As the words left his mind, Orannis fought for breath, nausea still flowing through him. The light was dimming now, and Lyelleth had stopped jerking and spasming in the water. Rising to his feet, the Orc ploughed quickly through the water as she went under, lacing his arms under hers to draw her to the surface. But as soon as his skin came into contact with hers, one final scene shot through his mind.
The briefest flash of pain, the cold, clinical detachment with which she viewed the situation… the tattoo…
The tattoo!
“Shadow Hunter!”
This chapter is dedicated to FireyJen – now go do NaNo woman!
--
~ Five Months Later ~
The bottom of the bed sunk under her weight as Lyelleth sat tentatively on the bed, knees tucked underneath her as she settled between his thighs. Long, slender purple fingers wrapped slowly around his length, and the Night Elf bit her lip as she tightened and loosened her grip experimentally. Orannis groaned deeply, trying to resist the urge to buck his hips as she stroked him slowly, taking in the feel of him for the first time. She was luminescent, her power shining through, lighting the Rogue from the inside as she knelt on the bed, testing her new found sexual awareness on him. As her grip grew firmer and more assured, the Orc lost himself in the sensations, drowning in the effect her gentle touch was having, eyes snapping open as he felt her hair slither against his thighs, and the softness of her breath on the tip…
Fire flared through the Shaman’s veins as his wards revolted, and Orannis jerked out of his fantasy and dived off the bed, still painfully aroused, barely having time to pull on his pants before he was out of the bedroom door, senses racing. “Lyelleth?”
“Or…Ori…” The sound was faint, and fear tore through him as he ran to the balcony, “I… Nahdeer… Take me to Nahdeer…” Lyelleth was curled up in the foetal position, lit aflame from the inside like lightning caught in a bottle, yet her skin was icy to the touch.
[Nahdeer!] He called, touching on his communication stone, [Lyelleth… She’s dying…]
[Take her to Moonglade; I’ll meet you there,] The Druid replied, [Remain calm, Ori, for her sake if not yours.]
--
Nahdeer drew the blanket up over Lyelleth’s shivering form, shaking her head as she rose. “This isn’t good Ori,” The Druid said softly, meeting her friend’s worried gaze, “I’ll have to get Roshann.”
Orannis nodded at the mention of Nahdeer’s mentor; Lyelleth had flatly refused to travel to Moonglade even after Nahdeer’s discussion with her, still fearing for her life, and after hearing why the Druid had agreed to relay information. It appeared her efforts had been in vain.
“Nahdeer… Your tutor Roshann, will he… recognise her?” The Shaman asked quietly, looking over at the Night Elf.
“No.” Nahdeer replied quietly, “I can guarantee it. Ori, Roshann is blind, hence why he is a tutor. She is safe, I swear to you.” The Tauren woman laid a gentle hand on her friends shoulder, “Trust me.”
“I do,” He replied quietly, covering her hand with his, “Go quickly Nahdeer.”
When the two Druids returned, Orannis had seated himself at the foot of the bed, eyes fixed on Lyelleth. He did not turn to acknowledge their presence, instead choosing to simply rise. “What do we do?”
Roshann shook his blue-haired head. “I can feel the power in her Nahdeer.” The tutor said quietly, “Why did we not know Moonsong had a daughter so strong?” That comment drew Orannis’ attention, and his furious gaze flew to Nahdeer. “Dashkern should have told us… Ah, but that man, his arrogance knew no bounds.” Unaware of the exchange of glances between his pupil and her friend, the Druid continued, stepping slowly toward the bed. “Such damage! But I sense repair also, and not that long ago either. At least, to the physical; her mental wounds will take much longer to heal, Shaman.”
That drew the Orc’s attention. “How do we help her? What did you have her do that put her in this state?”
The Night Elf snorted disparagingly, “As much as I could when the child was being so stubborn, Shaman. I understand her reasoning, but hiding away when we could have prevented this?” He sighed, “Now is not the time for recrimination, however. My instructions were simple; she was to meditate during full moon, to learn how the power was absorbed and affected her. The problem, which I must admit is partially my fault, is the girl has no idea of magic, and so has been absorbing vast amounts of lunar energy, until she got herself into this state. Damn that egotist, if we had been able to train her from birth, she would have been an excellent Druid…”
Sightless milky white eyes connected with Orannis’ grey. “Just because I am blind does not mean I do not see, Shaman. My pupil had no need to tell me who she was – I have ears, I know that Dashkern’s daughter was handed over to the Horde. There are those here who would not have shed a tear over her death. I am not one of them. Now, to save her from this… madness requires something of a sacrifice, both from you, and her.”
“What kind of sacrifice?” Ori replied quietly, gaze returning to his charge.
“At the very least, some privacy, at the most… possibly your life,” Roshann replied simply, his bowed form holding a purple-skinned hand over Lyelleth’s forehead. “We have only one recourse: to sap the power from her, mute it. Quite simply, we shall have to throw her to the Moonwell.”
The Shaman made a choked, spluttering noise, “We’re going to *what*?”
“Did I say ‘we’? I meant you,” The male Druid shot back, “That much power draining out would kill a Night Elf, even an unTouched one, and the side effects… Well. You are the only choice Shaman.” He walked away from the Rogue, pausing in the doorway, “In about fifteen minutes, every resident of Moonglade will be in the main cabin for the Silithus briefing. You will have half an hour to leave the centre and go to the south-eastern Moonwell. Keep her head above the water Shaman, the last thing we need is to sap out her power only for her to drown. Call Nahdeer when she awakes, I am having no more of this non-attendance nonsense!”
--
Even after Roshann had explained – in detail - what was to happen, Orannis had his doubts. Carrying his burden quickly and quietly through the deserted town was no easy feat; Lyelleth was clearly in pain and losing the fight against that which overwhelmed her, and her soft whimpers tore at the Orc’s heart in ways he did not feel able to deal with. Instead, he concentrated solely on arriving at the small gazebo that encased Moonglade’s second sacred well.
The Orc stepped gingerly into the chilled waters of the Moonwell, its mists immediately enveloping him with a cool silver caress. Within a few steps it was waist high, and he had to hold the Night Elf aloft to keep her from its embrace until he reached the centre point, a small circle of light denoting its position. Only then could he tentatively lower his burden into the water, supporting her under her arms as he did, hoping that nature would take over.
Almost as soon as she was submerged, the water began to bubble, not increasing in temperature but clearly reacting to something, and Lyelleth whimpered, twitching in his arms. Taking a deep breath, the Orc released her, and the resultant reaction knocked him to his knees, stealing his breath and almost submerging him, light exploding from her body in a blinding flash. Ori closed his eyes instinctively, but images flared inside his head as the power of her release linked his mind to hers...
The house was cold and quiet, mother and child looking at each other with anxious eyes. Since the pollution of the Emerald Dream, Dashkern’s mood had altered, and now the pair feared his homecoming instead of welcoming it.
A rap at the door drew Cal’Endre away from her daughter’s side, and she whimpered, trying to cling to the Sentinel’s arm. The older Elf smoothed her daughter’s hair back with a half-smile before going to answer the summons, body taut with anxiety as she opened it.
“NightBlade, you have to come quickly, we’re being attacked!”
Lyelleth whimpered softly as her mother argued with her comrade, before bowing her head and acquiescing, signalling the young girl to go to bed. Shaking, she obeyed, wrapping herself up into as small a bundle as she could within the covers and trying to calm herself. She had been asleep for only moments when he returned, slamming the door back with such force the house shook, dragging the child out of bed and snarling.
“Where is your mother?”
“She… the Sentinels…” His daughter stammered as he shook her violently. “You’re hurting me!”
The image faded, and another coalesced within the Orc’s mind.
Again she was asleep, a little older now, touching the face of womanhood as the moon kissed her purple skin, lighting her with a gentle glow. Again her father broke into the room, but the power kept Lyelleth asleep. For a moment, there was absolute silence, before Dash’s form rippled and shifted, giving way to his feral side, violet-pelted and sharp-clawed. The cat-Druid leapt silently onto the bed, unsheathing its nails and raking them down her back; still no reaction, but she was awake, aware but trapped inside her skin as he tore at her flesh, roaring his anger into the night….
Feeling sick, Orannis fought the link, and the Elf screamed in pain, the light still leeching from her body into the water. Gasping, he stopped his battle and struggled to keep his head above water as the mental assault continued.
“You are dirty!” Dashkern roared, “Dirty, filthy tainted bitch!”
“No, no Father… I didn’t do this on purpose!”
“You are barely a century, Lyelleth, yet you accept the embrace of adulthood so freely!” His face was inches from hers, silver eyes almost nova in their anger as he gripped her arms, “You bleed like a whore.”
“But Mother said it was natural…”
“What does she know of nature? Is she a Druid too? I think not. You are a crippled blight on our people Lyelleth, and you will *never* propagate!”
Too late she noticed the blade in his hand, and the next moments were a blur of pain and fear as it tore across her belly, slicing into her womb, and Lye fell backward onto the floor, and into unconsciousness.
When she woke, her mother stood over her, murder in her eyes. Whimpering, the Night Elf crawled backward on the floor, terrified Cal’Endre believed as her father did. A tortured sob was wrenched from the Sentinel as she unsheathed her swords and stalked angrily into their shared rooms. Paralysed by fear, Lyelleth called up powers she did not know she possessed and stepped into the shadows, stealthing herself, blocking out the sounds that flooded from her parents rooms.
Hours later, Dash emerged, blindly walking through the door, his wife’s blood soaked into his finest robes.
Anger tore through the Shaman then, sheer, blind fury at what the Druid had been allowed to do to his family, but it seemed Lyelleth’s torture was not over yet…
“I know he killed your mother Lye,” Valrendis murmured softly, and the Rogue wheeled about to face him.
“You know nothing!”
“I shared the Dream with him. I know. He is why you had to leave, to train with the Humans, why our people cast you out. And I can assure you, Rogue, he is no more.”
“… You killed him?!”
“She was my sister! I *had* to!”
As the words left his mind, Orannis fought for breath, nausea still flowing through him. The light was dimming now, and Lyelleth had stopped jerking and spasming in the water. Rising to his feet, the Orc ploughed quickly through the water as she went under, lacing his arms under hers to draw her to the surface. But as soon as his skin came into contact with hers, one final scene shot through his mind.
The briefest flash of pain, the cold, clinical detachment with which she viewed the situation… the tattoo…
The tattoo!
“Shadow Hunter!”