Love of the Ancients

Malfurion closed his eyes. The forest was unusually quiet - he almost smiled to himself as he listened, as if the animals and plants were cloaking themselves in order to aid him in his task. Yet he could tell they were all watching with great interest. He could see through his eyelids the sunlight streaming down through the treetops, dancing with excitement across his face. Digging his feet into the Earth he tried to feel Illidan's presence, but the demon hunter was becoming more skilled as each day went by.
He recalled the days when this had been a game for Illidan and himself. When they were young Illidan would hide himself as well as he could, and Malfurion would attempt to seek him out without his sight. It was more a practice exercise for Illidan than for Malfurion, so he could perfect his stealth techniques, but it was in ways still mutually beneficial, as Malfurion now coveted the skills he had honed in tracking via sound and aura. Oftentimes if he could not find him soon enough Illidan would pounce on him from behind, and the two would roll off each other, laughing and playfully taunting one another. Amongst the rustling sound of the trees he could almost hear Illidan shouting ‘I win’ triumphantly as he always did when he managed to beat Malfurion at the game. He could just barely hear through the whispering memories Tyrande’s voice as well, calling them both in to eat…
True it made it more difficult for Illidan to hide himself from Malfurion as they were, after all, fraternal twins and they had a generally easy time finding one another, no matter where they were. But Illidan had become so skilled that even their natural bond was difficult to utilize. Their bond…Malfurion laughed at himself. He had always valued that bond more than all other things, save Tyrande who was certainly prized in equal measure. If only it didn’t have to be like this. If only he could acknowledge his own mortal feelings and not have to be made of stone, seemingly unfeeling to all those he loved the most. Even Tyrande thought him cold and distant in these, his final days before his promised timeless slumber.
They did not understand. Neither of them did. What else could he do? To be a pillar, an example for his people and to make sure all was right with the world before he protected it from the Emerald Dream instead of the waking world, he had to do this. He had to pretend he didn’t care that he was hunting down his own brother, whom he loved so dearly it brought tears to his eyes. And the lie worked so superbly that even Illidan and Tyrande believed it – the two that really, truly knew him.
There was no other option. He alone would bear the truth in his heart.


Illidan watched from behind a tree as the wind blew gently through his brother’s emerald hair. His ears were perked, listening for any mistake Illidan might make with his movement, but Illidan was not that naïve. The years of practice he had on days just like this, with the forest spirits alive and brilliantly fluttering around them, bring life to the very air that filled his lungs, had prepared him for this day – a day he knew would come eventually. He thought of Tyrande suddenly – thought of her longing to be alone with his brother in this beautiful glade, to have him just to herself…
But Malfurion belonged to no one now. He was now to be a symbol –at least, that was what he was consigning himself to be. It made Illidan sick, to think that he would turn himself into a martyr and leave everyone that loved him behind. He could only cringe as he thought of the thousands of lonely nights that would be from hereafter; Tyrande alone in her bed, caressing herself and softly whispering a name that he longed to be his own. It was almost a sin to think about – such a beautiful creature forced to bring herself to the brink of euphoria when so many hapless, dumb-witted males who circle around her like vultures would gladly do it for her should she simply ask. No woman that wonderful should ever need to meet her own needs, and Malfurion would condemn her to a life as such…knowing she would never betray him, even in her most primal moments of desire. Such devotion. How could it have been that Malfurion was worth enough to earn it, more worthy than Illidan himself, who would have gladly laid down his life for her!
He took a moment to look carefully at the antlers that grew so majestically from his brother’s forehead. They rose like towers of dignity and grandeur, making him even more the living image of what every druid should be. Gently he touched his own newly-grown demon horns. They curved delicately inwards in a perfectly symmetrical fashion – the deep ridges rippled against his touch as he slid his fingers down them. They were just one of the many sacrifices he had made to achieve his great power, and that power was well worth the cost.
…But why was Malfurion taking so long? He wasn’t even moving. His ears were drooping – it was almost as if he wasn’t trying anymore, that he was just waiting for the inevitable attack. And after the War Malfurion knew to expect that from Illidan…why his guard was down, why he was so relaxed like he used to be when they played this game as children, he could not understand. Did Malfurion no longer fear death?
Or perhaps he didn’t even believe Illidan was capable of killing him…that there was lingering affection, though he too had worked so hard to become merely a symbol without feeling, yet he did not pursue it to such extremities as Malfurion did. Or perhaps he did, now that he pondered on it. He looked at his claws and laughed. Yes…perhaps all things worth having in life require sacrifice. Though Malfurion sacrificed nothing to have the most magnificent gift of all…


At last Malfurion felt Illidan’s breath on his neck and his arms circle around him. He had given up looking for him several minutes ago, hoping his body language would invite his brother to come to him peacefully. He knew deep inside him it was foolish to give Illidan such a grand opportunity to destroy him, but the breeze and the dancing leaves on this beautiful day reminded him too much of the old days, stirring something sad and tender within him. Already he was tired of pinning up his maelstrom of emotions…he laughed at himself as he wondered how he was going to stand it for the rest of eternity if he could not for a few months.
He was pleasantly surprised when he found that the embrace was not violent or aggressive. In fact it was almost maternal, even with Illidan’s fierce claws circling around his sensitive, vulnerable abdomen. He exhaled deeply when he felt his brother’s mouth on his ear, both taken aback by the sudden intimacy of Illidan’s actions as well as the quick, exquisite fountain of arousal that had just pulsed through his veins. What was Illidan doing…?
“I win.” He whispered playfully, his tongue barely dabbing at Malfurion’s earlobe as he spoke. Malfurion stifled back a smile and maintained his stoic countenance.
“Is this your idea on how to kill me? Remain perfectly passive as I now hold your life in my hands?”
“I won’t kill you, Illidan, but you are too dangerous to let roam free.”
“Ah,” Illidan breathed, nodding his head cynically. “So you’re going to lock me up and throw away the key, dooming me to an eternity of confinement while you and Tyrande live happily ever after, hm? Pray tell brother, how is that better than death?”
“I came here to implore you for the last time, repent and give up your dark magics. Submit yourself to the Archdruids so that they may heal you. They did not want me to offer you this. They wanted me to kill you outright.”
The demon hunter laughed. “How deeply sympathetic and generous of you to give me one last chance. However, I must graciously refuse.” Slowly one deadly claw snaked its way up Malfurion’s chest, trailing long, sharp fingernails across viridian skin, raising each tiny hair as they passed. Again, another sharp flow of arousal coursing through him, burning deep within his stomach down to his groin. He did not allow his face to show it, but he felt confused. Illidan had never touched him like this…he wasn’t even quite sure why his body was responding so strongly to it. What was happening?
He needed to stop this…he was completely trusting Illidan, not even tracking his every moment. It was as if his body was acting on its own, encouraging Illidan to surprise him, which he knew could certainly mean his death. He was still completely unguarded in his presence, with no suspicion towards his actions… nor could he make himself have either, or even attempt to put up the illusion of having either. Not that he could ever fool Illidan anyway.
At last Illidan clamped his claw around Malfurion’s neck, pressing his nose to his flesh and smelling it deeply. “Now give me one good reason,” he crooned, “why I shouldn’t kill you here and now. You will be much less trouble for me if you are dead.”
“The others will pursue you even if I fall. And I can promise you they will not be as forgiving as I.”
“And why are you so forgiving, brother?!” Illidan roared. “You know you absolutely…infuriate me…first you betray me and steal from me my greatest joy, my shining light that I loved more than my own life. Tell me, Malfurion, is she warm in your arms when she sleeps? Do you watch her beautiful breasts rise and fall with her even breathing - have you seen her toss her head back as she gives you her
most sacred embrace, screaming your name? And you want to leave her alone...you want to go to sleep forever...you insist on being a martyr for your people, just like the little attention whore that you are. I wouldn't leave her, but she loves you. She wants you. You’ve committed the worst atrocity of all if you go through with this.”
“That’s not true Illidan.” Malfurion sighed. Despite the claw around his neck he remained relaxed, his arms still trapped in the tight grip Illidan’s other hand made around his body. “You do love something more than Tyrande. Power. It was your lust for power that drove her away from you.”
At this the demon hunter roared and seized Malfurion’s wrists, pulling them back behind him. Despite his better judgment Malfurion continued to let himself be dominated by his brother, never struggling or showing signs of resentment, even as Illidan pulled on his neck, forcing his head back to rest on Illidan’s shoulder. It was painful and hard for him to breathe, but the demon hunter seemed to revel in his brother’s pain, laughing sadistically while he pulled even farther on his arms and neck, arching his back even more.
“Just like you, Malfurion. First born and first in everything. You’ve destroyed everything that was mine, conquering me as your inferior. But no more. I will rely on this power. This power is all I have left that you cannot take from me.”
Malfurion did not know what to say. He had heard these petty arguments before from Illidan – arguments that rarely bothered him anymore, since it met a need inside his brother to blame him for all his mistakes, insisting that he had some personal desire to bring him down. At first it made him angry each time he had said these things, as Illidan continuously refused to see how Malfurion expressed his love for him in every action he took…in every way he tried to avoid hurting his feelings, to stay out of his way, to make him happy and be there for him, but it seemed every action backfired – every sacrifice fell on his blind eyes. Lately he had taken to ignoring these immature and ridiculous ravings altogether instead of being angry, but in this moment, perhaps because he knew that this was the last time he would see Illidan in many, many centuries, if at all, a single tear fell from his eye, despite his constant stoic expression.
“What is this?” the demon hunter said. Astonishingly gentle, he wiped the tear from the restrained Malfurion. “The almighty apathetic, unshakeable Malfurion Stormrage, no longer a Kel’dorei but a God amongst us, the icon of righteousness…tearful?”
“Illidan…” he whispered. He could not help it. His voice began to crack. “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry…”
“Now that is something I thought I would never hear you say.” Illidan said. Once more he let his breath tickle Malfurion’s neck; his tongue licked the tiny tear off his claw. “Even when you and Tyrande……..even then, you didn’t even look at me. Even then you didn’t think you should apologize, thinking you had a right to love whom you pleased, no matter who it harmed. Is it possible then, that my brother is not lost? That he can love, instead of merely affectionately shepherding his flock, as a leader should…? …Malfurion.”
Illidan turned Malfurion’s face towards him and looked in his eyes, through he could not truly see them. He could still feel the burning heat of their intense fire upon him.
“Do I see you, that small, vulnerable boy I know inside there? Is it possible that only the blind can see it still? Or perhaps only those who truly love you can see it, though you are intent on crushing them with your ‘virtuous’ selflessness…”
Malfurion gasped and his eyes shot open, staring hopefully at Illidan, who smiled bitterly.
“Yes brother…” he purred in his ear. “I too love you…I too would bear the burden of living without you…you were what I relied on all these years, and you are stealing even that from me. Have you no feelings for us left? Why give up your freedom for others, who have done nothing for you?”
The Archdruid sobbed. “I am gifted with life by the spirits and the Gods, Illidan. I do what I must to honor it.”
“Bah! More delusions of grandeur!” he scoffed. “You honor life by sacrificing it? By casting all your blessings in the gutter and wandering a haunted dream world for all eternity!? I will not cower from you, brother. I will speak to you truthfully, unlike your little followers who do not question your ‘noble’ acts. I do not see you as some legend to look up to; to me you will always be that terrified little boy who fled from darkness. I embraced it…and now I am more powerful than you will ever be.”
His arms now twisted tighter behind his back, Malfurion fell forward as Illidan pushed him against an old oak. The rough bark scratched his skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the bloody scratches Illidan was making on him. His fingernails practically gauged the skin of his wrists as Illidan leaned Malfurion forward, pulling his hair back and placing himself right between his brother’s buttocks. It was then Malfurion sensed his blatant erection, and then felt his own member involuntarily jump in response. Panting and panicking, he at last began to struggle, but it was futile.
Violently Illidan spread Malfurion’s legs apart with his hooves, making him quite the display. He took his belt and wrapped it around the archdruid’s arms, restraining them behind his back. He also covered his eyes with a scarf, casting Malfurion into the darkness. Now the only thing holding Malfurion up was his shoulder against the tree’s trunk and Illidan still clawing at his hair.
“Tell me Malfurion. Tell me now. What was it like the first time? When you entered her perfect flower, wet and delicious to the touch and to the taste? Did you taste her? Did you bring her to full blossom with your tongue and your hands – did you worship her body as she worshipped yours? She has always worshipped you in every single way…but it must have been so thrilling for her, to take you into her mouth, then herself, and feel your seed coat the inside of her…”
“Illidan…please…stop this…”
“Perhaps I will take you just like you took her...perhaps I shall teach you what it means to lose everything against your will…to be raped utterly by your own flesh and blood.”
Malfurion hissed as he felt his feet glue to the ground with a binding spell. Now there was no escaping – none whatsoever, and what was worse is that he was responding so deeply to Illidan’s touches. Even his violent ones he craved, his throbbing organ between his legs begging for release. But why? Why did he feel this way? He didn’t understand…
Illidan cupped his claw over Malfurion’s sex, feeling it pulse and leap into action with even the smallest movement from a single finger. He laughed as he ripped Malfurion’s kilt off, then tearing through the loincloth until his brother was completely nude and helpless in front of him.
“So excited…” he whispered triumphantly. He stood back and admired his exposed prey, circling it like a tiger waiting to spring. The light playing over his nearly glistening skin from sweat made him beautiful to behold, but even more enticing to the demon hunter was the thought of that skin further soaked in blood. He uncoiled his whip slowly, letting Malfurion hear every movement he made. At last he began striking the tree close to Malfurion’s ears, who flinched with each crack of the leather. Grabbing again Malfurion’s mane of hair, he growled, “I want you to feel pain…I want you to suffer before I bring you relief.”
Not long after he cracked the whip against Malfurion’s raised buttocks. Tears dripped on from Malfurion’s eyes as he tried to restrain himself, but it was too exhausting. He started to cry out from the pain, and yet with each crack the archdruid’s erection did not falter – if anything it became more wild and desperate. Even as he began to scream, the pulsating, engorged organ looked as if it were about to explode.
When tiny rivers of blood were flowing down from his brother’s back and buttocks, Illidan stopped, perplexed by the resilience his brother had showed. What was going through his brother’s always seemingly impenetrable mind? Why was he always so enigmatic, so hard to understand? Was it possible he was enjoying this?
He decided then to dip under Malfurion, weaving his horns around his torso so that it was suspended between them, to gaze at his erect nipples. Harshly he tugged on them, causing Malfurion to squeal delightfully. “So soft…your skin is like silk. I wonder if her skin is like this. Did you did this to her? Did you gently seize one of those flawless nipples in your mouth, suckling it gently as a child, secretly wishing to be fed? Did she cry out, as you are now…”
As he said this, the demon hunter reached up and sucked savagely on Malfurion’s right nipple, watching out of the corner of his eye a droplet of precum gather at the tip of his erection. His vibrating vocal cords buzzed against Malfurion’s skin as his tongue traveled away from his chest and down his stomach, where just by looking at it his brother’s member leapt incessantly.
“Not everyone knows you like this…” he whispered. He kissed lightly the sides of the shaft, kneading his testicles in a free hand. “The great archdruid may be loved by all, but they cannot all know the real you… this mewling, starved creature I see before me. It seems you cannot completely escape your mortality, brother…”
At last Illidan took Malfurion into his mouth, swallowing the shaft completely until it disappeared entirely. Malfurion roared – the expert tongue, nearly forked by demonic energies, flicking wildly against his head while his entire self was encased in a glorious bath of saliva and warmth. He had never felt this way before…never so intense…
Pinching a nipple and still massaging the sack of flesh beneath his erection, the demon hunter sucked harder and harder and harder, never pausing. His tiny fang teeth grazed just slightly the pulsating vein on his shaft, but instead of panic it brought Malfurion to moaning like an uncontrollable beast. Finally he felt the dam within him break and the floodgates open, causing his eyes to roll back in his head and his white semen come leaking out into Illidan’s awaiting mouth. Malfurion heard him swallow all of it, which Tyrande never did…
Wiping his mouth and licking his fingers, the demon hunter stood up and went to kneel behind Malfurion, staring directly at the puckered ring of flesh just above the deflated organ. He pulled his cheeks apart to get a better view of it as it twitched nervously. Without saying a word he began to lick the rim of the tiny entrance, moving his tongue in a circle until it dove strait inside. One hand reached down to tug again on the exhausted sex, creating a motion almost like milking. Malfurion nearly whimpered when Illidan took his hand and tongue away, only to stand and press the head of his own sex against the hole.
Illidan was feeling less and less triumphant the more and more Malfurion seemed to be taking pleasure out of this. Instead of feeling violated, he seemed to revel in these acts that were beyond nature. Why did he not feel as victorious as he should? Why could he never tear down the wall that was between them – why was Malfurion so inaccessible…why could he never touch his heart…
Soaking two fingers with saliva, he pushed them into Malfurion to prepare him. At first his brother’s body tensed at the sensation, but when he found that delightful bit of flesh deep within that caused Malfurion to jump, his erection practically reinflated from the act alone. Growing impatient and feeling his own need so desperate, he seized his brother’s buttocks in both hands and forced his way inside, soon after creating a rhythm of rutting in and pulling out, faster and faster and faster.
Malfurion was screaming so loudly the birds flew from the trees. He swallowed Illidan so completely, cocooning his most vulnerable self inside the warm, tight darkness of his own body. He loved it – longed for it – didn’t want it to stop. This is what he wanted. This is why he came here, and why he remained unguarded around Illidan, his own flesh and blood, who no longer could be trusted.
His heart ached even as his body was reeling from the pleasure, feeling Illidan’s claws rake down his chest and even down to his bloated sex. He smeared the blood all over Malfurion, then licked it off his fingers with a cruel look in his eye and an expression of utter abandon. Faster he pounded into him, digging into his hips and pushing them and pulling them to aid the motion. Using his hair, Illidan pulled Malfurion off the tree so that he was standing, yet leaning against Illidan’s chest. While Illidan still pulled in and out at a lightning fast pace, Malfurion voluntarily rolled his head back against his shoulder, gently moving in close to Illidan’s swollen lips.
Illidan paused, his heart racing. He stared at his brother, confused for only a moment before pressing his lips tenderly against his, with a gentle air unlike any other action he had taken. It was now an understanding between them – that this was not what Illidan expected it to be, nor Malfurion. This was not about what each had thought it was. They truly wanted each other.
The demon hunter immediately removed the spell from Malfurion’s feet and turned him around, pushing him once more against the tree but with his back hitting it this time. The archdruid gladly lifted one leg up to allow Illidan access as they kissed so passionately, their tongues bashing and colliding inside their mouths. Illidan stroked Malfurion’s arousal until they both came in unison, grunting and crying out until their voices faded into deep, desperate panting.
They collapsed in a heap on the ground, Malfurion sinking to let his head fall in Illidan’s lap while Illidan rested against the tree. A hand traveled to rest inside a claw, though neither clasped the other. They did not move again for over an hour, simply resting and listening to the sounds of the forest. The sun was just beginning to set when at last Malfurion spoke.
“Do you regret what you have chosen?” he asked tenderly. “That you are leaving her and I forever? We will forever be enemies, Illidan. Is that what you want? If you choose this now, it will never go back to the way things were.”
The demon hunter did not answer. He turned his head away to look in the distance. He could hear the distant yelling of the druids who hunted him.
“You could return with me.” Malfurion pleaded. “It will be the three of us for eternity.”
“But I will never have your love, or hers.” Illidan snapped. “I will never have love.”
“Malfurion!” a far-away voice echoed. They were close enough now that they could understand what they were saying…they did not have much time left.
The archdruid rose and gently kissed Illidan. “No, brother. No matter where fate may take us, no matter what we may do in the future, you will never be without love. You will have mine.”
Without another word Malfurion quickly touched Illidan’s forehead with a glowing hand, instantly putting him to sleep. With tears in his eyes he whispered a spell and roots wrapped around his now incapacitated brother. He pulled his tattered clothes back over himself as best he could and limped over to lean against another tree, not too far away so he could look at Illidan’s face. His heart cried out as he wished inwardly that Illidan had not let his guard down.
At last he called out to his fellow druids, who came rushing in, panicking as they saw their leader soaked in blood and the most dangerous being alive asleep nearby, what had happened, are you alright, let’s get him back to the village, where’s Tyrande, someone call Maiev to take Illidan…Why could they not just be quiet?
He smelled her before she entered the glade. Tyrande came charging in just as Maiev arrived – there were so many people asking him questions, but he tuned them all out save Tyrande. She helped him stand and together they limped over to a quiet edge of the glade.
“Are you alright?” she asked, so kindly, so desperately. How he loved her. How he wished he could love both of them.
“Tonight I sleep.” He said sternly. “Have them take him away. I do not wish to see him again.”
Tyrande’s eyes glazed over with tears. She nodded solemnly. “I will do my best to carry out your will my lord and see to it that he is not harmed.”
He smiled and put a hand on her face. “You are now the leader of our people, my starlight. They will do ask you ask, for if they wish to honor me, they will honor you.”
That night the two lovers watched their last sunset together and ate their last meal together. Tyrande insisted on falling asleep next to Malfurion, as if this were just another night and in the morning they would face the dawn together. After many passionate kisses and one last evening of making love, they settled down, Tyrande’s arms wrapped around Malfurion as he stared blankly at the ceiling.
“I shall miss you, my starlight.”
“And I you, my Lord. Every day until your return to me.”
“But I shall never be parted from you.” He said. His eyelids were getting heavy, but just before he surrendered to the Emerald dream, he whispered softly, “I shall dream of you, my starlight. I shall dream…of both of you.”