Warcraft Fan Fiction ❯ A Savage Land ❯ Dark Ranger Lyana ( Chapter 4 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

- -

“Do you remember who the only woman I refuse to allow us to sleep with is?” Aylenn asked him as they left the keep, leaving Merette in the capable hands of the Northrend women.

“Your sister, I believe. Cyndra?” Nathaniel answered.

Aylenn nodded. “Right. Well, dear sister Cyndra just relayed some information of interest to us. Dark Ranger Lyana, who leads the assault against the Alliance troops at Vengeance Landing, is taking a day off today.”

“And what does a woman like that do on a day off?”

She grinned. “Take soothing walks along the coast. Alone.”

-

Watching the Dark Ranger reminded Nathaniel back of when they first had hunted Varna, seeing that prowling Vrykul so alert to the forest around her and much too confident in her ability. This Lyana came armed to the teeth, but her bow was slung over shoulder. Her elfish form, slim as Aylenn, stalked the edge of the water, boots silent over the slippery rock.

The action of walking along the coast seemed something reminiscent of when she was of the living, another of the many signs that the undead weren't as lost as so many – even the Forsaken themselves – seemed to believe. Standing hidden this close to the undead elf, knowing they were finally within grasps of their long goal of acquiring a Dark Ranger, was both exciting and anxious. There could be no mistakes.

Lyana was the signature Dark Ranger. Red eyes, slender figure that of a high elf, skin pale, dark hood drawn, weapons glowing with enchantments, clothes the black with gold trim of Sylvanas' elite. Her face held the same angular characteristics of Aylenn, but Lyana's features seemed more stern, like afflicted by a permanent anger. Her hair was golden, evident by her eyebrows, and under were a full set of lips, painted black. She moved like a cat as she walked, alert to every sound and disturbance even while relaxing.

Aylenn hands touched Nathaniel's arm, and she leaned into him, appearing to swoon. “Her, love. That Dark Ranger, she must be ours.”

Recalling his words when she said much the same back with the Winterskorn Hunter, Nathaniel muttered, “It will be difficult. Unholy strength likely matching yours, hidden weapons, deadly cunning... Her body itself will be a weapon, even disarmed. Claiming it will be more challenging I think than even Sigrid.”

“I'm already wet just thinking about it,” Aylenn breathed, eyes transfixed by the graceful elf.

We've already come this far, Nathaniel sighed. “We are far enough from anyone to do it here. No one will come this far up the secluded coast. Or do you want to sap and bag, bring her back to the keep?”

“We will do it here,” Aylenn answered, drawing her weapon. “Crippling poison?”

“Already done,” he confirmed, pulling his daggers to show the green coating. “You know what to do. Whenever you're ready.”

Tension slid up on them as they both faced the Dark Ranger, now a bit further from them as she continued her slow walk. They waited a moment, quelling their nervousness, then Aylenn breathed out, stepping forward a step. She thrust her hand out, calling upon her energies as a death knight, and her death-grip grasped Lyana around the middle, already turned to face them at the first sound. The hand tugged her off the ground, throwing her body back towards them.

Lyana landed from the pull with her weapons drawn, a snarl on her lips, but they were ready for her. A blast of frost slowed her movements, and Nathaniel dismantled her weapons from her, not watching as the glowing hooked daggers spiraled off into the dirt. Lyana threw her body back a pace, unslinging her bow with surprising speed and notching an arrow. The husband and wife dodged, splitting to divide her attention.

After disarming her of the bow as well, Nathaniel's earlier prediction of her body as a weapon came to life. Lyana jumped to deliver a wicked kick, catching Aylenn in the unprotected part of her stomach under her plate armor. Nathaniel himself was a master of hand-to-hand, and even then the exchange between the two left both feeling a dull ache in their arms, neither striking a solid blow on the other.

However, the first nick of his dagger decided the rest of the fight. The poison set to work immediately, slowing Lyana and crippling her movements. She improvised to the fact and dove into the arcane, calling upon shadow magic to drain the very life from their bodies, mind still sharp enough even with the physical ailment.

Another cast of magic had a fist of shadows strangulate the Dark Ranger, interrupting her spell and preventing her from speaking the words of another. Nathaniel reached her again, and with her crippled movements, he easily dominated the exchange of blows, deflecting hers and striking low.

Lyana was exhausting herself against them, but she struggled on, movements vicious even with the poison. At one point she had tried fleeing back towards the Forsaken town, not too prideful to recognize when she was outmatched, but the poison and another death-grip had her in their clutches.

Nathaniel swept her legs out from under her, and he pulled out a cord to bind her hands with as he followed her down. His eye caught a flash of silver, and he cursed, leaping away from her as she slashed a hidden dagger at him. “You will not capture me, scum,” she hissed leaning forward in a kneel, blade bared.

“We will capture you and more,” Aylenn called out, the elation obvious in her voice.

Nathaniel was the one who handled the more delicate work, not Aylenn, so it was up to him to bind Lyana without harming her too much, something the strong death knight was sure to botch if she tried. He engaged the Dark Ranger again, managing to disarm the dagger and beat her to the ground again, trying to follow with the cord.

The elf pulled another weapon, but Nathaniel caught her wrist and wrenched the blade from her hand, leaving it to fall point first into the grass. He managed to slip that hand through the loop of his bind, but her other fist came thundering into his jaw hard enough to make him see stars, let alone know if he was still sitting on her or if he had tumbled off.

Apparently his body had moved on instinct he found, flipping her so her stomach was pressed against the ground and yanking her arm back to its limit. That damnable free hand managed to find the discarded blade, but Aylenn's boot stomped down and made her drop it. Lyana struggled through the poison, trying to throw him off her body, but for all her strength, she couldn't add weight and he remained firmly in place.

He bound her hands together then suffered a kick to his chin before managing to also bind her feet. He was about to do the same with her knees to stop the last motion capable by her body, but an afterthought had him stop and turn his attention to her gold-trimmed leggings. He yanked them down, having the clothing's waistline do the job for him.

A lacy black thong. Somehow, he didn't feel surprised.

Aylenn was laughing, the metallic death knight voice sounding both cold and excited. “A Dark Ranger, my love! One of Sylvanas' Dark Rangers!”

Lyana spat at them, fury etched in her features, still struggling against her bonds. Seeing the weak movement of her arms, Nathaniel also bound her arms to her side with a cord around the chest for good measure. One could never be too careful.

“ Even without me, we will crush your pathetic last stronghold here, and nothing you do can stop us from claiming this land. We will eradicate your disgusting living presence from Northrend!”

They gagged her mouth.

The both of them standing over their new captive, watching her writhe weakly against her restraints, Aylenn suddenly whirled towards Nathaniel and flung herself at him, mashing her lips against his in a wild kiss. He smiled back against her lips, arms around her lifting her light body and spinning once before releasing her and returning his attention to Lyana.

Aylenn giggled after the twirl, very much excited as she left him to approach the Dark Ranger, schooling her expression on the way. She knelt next to the woman, meeting her furious eyes. “You've killed a lot of good men, Lady Lyana. So foolishly blinded by your envy of the living, you turned Horde forces against the Alliance on the Lich King's very lands. You give him victory, the two-fold deaths of his enemies.”

Lyana didn't seem bothered by the words, still glaring and trying to snarl something past her gag.

“I don't care about orders,” Aylenn said to her, voice dropping to something frosty. “Sylvanas knows that you are here to strike down the Lich King, and she knows she needs both the Horde and the Alliance to do so. Meanwhile, as she marches up the slopes of Icecrown to face the real threat of the Scourge, you are down here squabbling over landing rights. You fuel a war against your allies!”

Taking one of Lyana's blades, Aylenn aimed it towards the Dark Ranger's heart. “The world is better off without you sending its soldiers to such futile slaughter, for both the Alliance and the Horde, and ending you frees those troops to fight the Lich King. I have nothing against my former master, but he needs to fall in order for me to live peacefully with my husband, so I will do what needs to be done to make that future possible.”

The red eyes were fearless as the blade reached her chest, death likely already familiar to an anguished Forsaken. However, instead of sinking the blade into flesh, Aylenn severed a gold-painted leather strap that held her armor shut before her chest. She cut another, Lyana's eyebrows furrowing, and then another. She cut all the straps, watching the material sag to either side over Lyana's chest to adjust to her bosom. The blade pressed against the bottom of the covering cloth, tip pressed into soft skin.

“So to the world, the Dark Ranger known as Lady Lyana is now dead.” Aylenn smirked at her. “You are now are captive to be used as we see fit. And that use, dark one, is to be my husband's concubine.” With a jerk of her wrist, there was a tearing sound, and the black cloth cut from bottom to top, revealing the valley between Lyana's breasts.

The cord over her chest kept the covering from falling away entirely. Slowly, a patient contrast to Lyana's renewed struggles, Aylenn's fingers began to move the armor to the side. “I'd ask if you understood your new place, but I don't expect you to be some obedient dog, nodding when questioned.”

Lyana's glare didn't budge an inch, still fitful against her bindings as first her left breast was exposed, then the right. The skin was milky, nipples a light rose. Aylenn noted, as she always did, that Lyana's breasts were larger than hers, but not by much.

“You will be conditioned, however,” Aylenn muttered affectionately, hand stroking Lyana's golden hair in a loving gesture. The hood had mostly fallen in her capture. “Rewarded when you do well and punished when you displease us. You Forsaken are so used to misery and punishment, but you will find that when given the choice, even your kind prefers rewards to unending humiliation and degradation for your defiance.”

Aylenn's hand dropped to Lyana's clothed sex, rubbing it slowly. Lyana's struggles attempted to turn her body away from the touch. “I don't know how much you know about humans, but to them, mating is a binding act. Noncommittal mating is highly frowned upon, even. Marriage among them requires no more than the act itself. Now, as you are to be my husband's concubine, he needs to claim you as such.

“I have no doubt a frigid women like you won't get wet enough for him, but sadly for you, you don't need to.” Aylenn moved her hand to pull out a small jar, shaking it slightly for Lyana to see. She tossed it to Nathaniel, who so far remained standing back and watching. He began to remove his belt.

Lyana made an angry sound, eyebrows dropping to glare at the both of them. Aylenn smiled frostily, leaning forward so she could whisper to her, hand invading Lyana's undergarment and feeling her womanhood. “You deserve this, you foolish woman. During my time under the Lich King, we kept an eye on you, and when we found out what you were doing, we sat back and laughed. Now you will serve my new Lord as we see fit. You are lucky we find Dark Ranger's appealing or your death would have been the best way to serve him.”

Pulling the thong down, Aylenn glanced at the tangle of unkempt pubic hair her fingers were buried in before facing Nathaniel. “Take her, honey.” We'll get this trimmed up properly when we get back.

Nathaniel eyed the trapped woman and her nude state. It reminded him of another time when he and Aylenn had done this kind of play with him trying her up, and his loins stirred at the memory. Her appealing, bared form helped him along, and soon he was ready for it, shaft standing erect just above where he was holding his leggings up. Dipping fingers in the jar, he came out with an herbal mixture that was commonly used to help in the taking of a women, medically for those who couldn't prepare enough naturally for their lovers. Some used it for more daring maneuvers in love-making.

Once coated properly, he straddled Lyana, seeing her still struggling against the bonds, meaning the poison beginning to wear off. Still mostly dressed, he remained upright as he studied her, comparing her body to Aylenn's and finding the resemblance and differences, the blond pubic hair obviously not maintained.

So soon after Merette's taking, he was able to resolve himself more quickly, and he guided himself to her hairy mound. His tip went through the curls, and he felt a chill as it met her – another similarity to Aylenn. His member coated in the herbal lubricants, he pressed his way deeper, feeling himself slide into her.

It was a different experience than a normally prepared woman, the walls much slicker than he was used to. Once buried all the way inside her, feeling his body pressed against hers, he noticed the way she was still struggling and recalled exactly what he was doing to her. He ignored the thought, pulling back and sliding back in.

Lyana's world was trapped in a red haze. The pain of having a heart beating when it no longer should was always an annoyance she usually ignored. However, right now she lay captive and bound to the enemy, a living man and a woman of the Lich King. She felt pathetic, unable to help herself. Not to mention she was being fucked, and she lay helpless as it happened.

She hadn't even thought of sexual relations since she was last alive!

Wishing the gag was gone so she could vent her rage on the matter, Lyana only continued trying to slither out of her binds. The rogue knew his work, she grudgingly admitted. Right now she would give anything to see him hanging by one of these cords. Rage came easy to her, and the molten fury thankfully banished any pleasure she received by the man's actions.

Pleasure. She knew she could still sleep with a man if she wanted, but the desire had never been there before. It still wasn't there, and she still had the humanity to be infuriated by her rape – but she didn't have enough to feel anything beyond anger, none of the horror or revulsion she would have in life.

As she waited impatiently for him to finish, her mind turned to the elf's words, and another burst of anger had her pull tight at her binds, feeling it cutting into her skin. She had not mistaken Lady Sylvanas' commands. All living deserved to find death's embrace, and after, they would deal with the monster that brought each of them back to this wretched world.

Concubine? The part of Lyana that wasn't seething in rage was surprised by that. What kind of pathetic human would want her as a concubine? Glaring down at him, she took in her own body, acknowledging that she was indeed still attractive. Still, why have her, a Forsaken Dark Ranger, as a concubine? Surely there were other fully living elves out there that would be better choices.

The intrigue at his decision remained only a seed inside the fires of hate.

Nathaniel wished he could do more than the same thing, but he understood the necessity of it. Still thrusting inside her, her studied her face more closely, finding the reflection of her anger so deeply rooted in her. What made this Dark Ranger so different than the death knight that was his wife?

He looked up to see Aylenn watching them, her own pants down and hand buried inside her panties. He partly wished it was her he was mating with, but he knew he would have her soon enough, and eventually perhaps this woman would become something he equally enjoyed uniting with.

His end was finally coming, and all attention turned back to Lyana. Her breasts rose and fell with her steady breathing, nose making heavier sounds from her struggle. Her face was elfish beauty and storm clouds, black lips lush even parted by the gag. Her red eyes glared like an evil form of Aylenn's blue. Her blond hair fanned out disarrayed around her.

Lyana blinked when he kissed her. His lips were warm, living, and the passion behind the act was startling, even through her rage at him. At nearly the same time, she felt him reach his end, beginning to coat her insides with his seed, feeling like a liquid fire inside her undeath-cool body.

He came down from his high, features relaxing, and his warmth drew away from her. Lyana watched him fix his leggings, brushing his hair back and looking no different than before he had forcibly taken her. The woman was pleasuring herself, to Lyana's shock, and she saw the death knight orgasm to her exposed body.

After Aylenn fixed her own clothes, they did the same for Lyana. The sliced open chest couldn't be completely mended, but the same cord that interfered with it opening earlier was used to keep the two sides covering her. They called upon their respective gryphons, preparing for the flight back.

“Hopefully they replace your new concubine with someone adequate so that Sylvanas can actually receive her reinforcements,” Aylenn commented blithely to Nathaniel, aiming a barbed reminder at Lyana of her new position and the critique of her former leadership. Aylenn deposited the bound woman onto Nathaniel's gryphon. “Here you go, darling. Perhaps you can better get to know her on the flight back.”

Nathaniel's emotions remained absent as he pulled Aylenn away from the gryphons and from Lyana's earshot. She sighed at him. “Don't give me that look. We have a Dark Ranger, and this is the part of plan we had originally intended on. We want to remove key figures from barring victory over the Lich King, and some of them we want to... impress in servitude rather than simply kill.”

“ This is not the same mercy I offered you at Icecrown,” he muttered back, still without displaying his emotions on the matter. What did he feel about it, Aylenn wondered not for the first time.

Her gloved hand came to his smooth chin, gently turning his face towards her so she could study him intently. “Can you honestly tell me you aren't enjoying this, beloved? You still have human compassion, but... you also want this. The plan wasn't solely my design.”

Nathaniel stared at her, face giving her nothing, and he finally turned away, jaw flexing briefly. The small action could be taken multiple ways, and Aylenn knew her husband could still be a mystery to her at times. Without a word, he returned to his gryphon and mounted it, impassive to the struggling Dark Ranger.

Aylenn smiled slightly, accepting it as a small victory. She mounted her own bone gryphon, and together they took to the skies.

-

“We will need to get her a more suiting pair of clothes,” Aylenn was saying as they entered the keep. “Something that doesn't remind her of the life she had before.”

Nathaniel was silent as he carried Lyana in bridal style. The cursed elf wasn't making the task any easier, still lurching her body when she could. As they passed the threshold to what was their portion of the keep, he noticed someone coming from the other way. It was Varna, geared up and hood drawn, her white worg by her side as she took sure steps towards the exit.

“Varna?” he asked, seeing the anger on her face. Seeing him only seemed to bring an even greater flash of anger from her, but she broke her gaze from his. So she was embarrassed about something then. “What's wrong?”

“The pleasure girl escaped when she was testing her out,” Sigrid answered with a slow drawl, flying into sight from behind Varna.

The living Vrykul's fists clenched around her weapons. “Fear does not quake my heart easy, but she did something that had it take me so strongly that my very mind was numbed by it. When the spell ended, she was gone.”

Nathaniel knew that particular spell well, and he shared a look with Aylenn. It wasn't Varna's fault, of course, but the proud woman obviously felt dishonored by the slip up. Still, while he had been expecting an eventual attempt to escape, he didn't see it happening so soon. “How long ago?”

“Not ten minutes, my Lord,” Varna answered stiffly. “I shall be on her trail from this moment. I will return her.”

“No, stay your hand. Aylenn and I will go. For now, I want you two to handle Lyana here, my new concubine. Lyana, this is Varna and Sigrid, my second wife and honored concubine. I want you two to find a room Lyana won't be able to escape from, no cages. While you're there, get her a change of clothes, perhaps something of Aylenn's will fit her.” The warning to be careful with her went unspoken, likely an insult if he were to try and caution them.

Varna looked downcast by being denied the chance to redeem herself, but she took the new girl in one hand and studied her. After a moment, she sniffed derisively at her, then bowed her head to Nathaniel. “Yes, my Lord.”

-

They eventually tracked the runaway cultist to Valgarde, an Alliance camp not far from their keep to the south. She was being kept in another cage, likely recognized for what she was. Nathaniel could see the despair on her face as they approached, and upon sighting them, her eyes first widened then her whole head dropped in defeat.

Landing in the center of the camp, Nathaniel faced who he assumed was the leader. “I must ask that you release this prisoner.” Aylenn landed behind him, causing a stirring in the camp.

“And why would I release someone belonging to the Cult of the Damned, friend?” the man returned in a false-pleasant voice that betrayed danger.

Merette was staring at him, wearing an overly large Vrykul dress. He pointed directly at her and said to the man as much as her, “She is my property. She belongs to me.”

Merette meekly lowered her metallic eyes from him to nod. “Yes, my Lord.”

“Is this trickery?” the man snapped. “Or is this cultist your- your slave?”

“My pleasure girl,” Nathaniel clarified sternly, eyes watching Merette. She glanced up at him and quickly looked back down.

“By the light... Pleasure girls have been outlawed for years.” There was judgment in his voice now, a detectable undertone of anger at Nathaniel.

“Not in Northrend. This woman belongs to me, and I will have her back. She must face the punishment of her crimes.”

The man drew a powerfully enchanted mace, eyes narrowing. “Yes, she must, and the law deems execution the rightful punishment. I will ask you this once to desist, rogue.”

Nathaniel's expression fell dangerously flat. Aylenn saw the look and touched his hand. “Get her, I'll deal with the fools.”

A wave of icy and shadowy energy burst from her then, and everyone it passed over suddenly collapsed to a knee, gasping, save Nathaniel and Merette. Immediately, Nathaniel approached the cage and began picking the lock. The soldiers began to return to their feet, murder in their eyes. A second wave incapacitated them again, and Aylenn watched them all with a sneer. One hand forced an additional spell to hold the leader down.

Once the cage opened, Nathaniel gripped Merette's wrist and yanked her out. His eyes quickly scanned the area and he said, “Archers!”

Aylenn dove forward, rolling as she hit the ground and springing to her feet. At the same time, Nathaniel jumped the other way, tugging Merette along so she was out of the kill-zone. “Go!” Aylenn shouted to him. “I'll meet you there!”

Fear for her warred with confidence in his wife's abilities, but Nathaniel listened, knowing he had no choice. He sprinted as fast as he could, forcing Merette to try and match him. He reached his gryphon, and just as he did, an undead ghoul leapt in front of him, taking an arrow that would have flanked either his side or if he had dodged, Merette's.

He mounted his gryphon in a single jump, then pulled Merette up in front of him. The cultist didn't fight him, equally concerned with her own life and knowing he was her only way out. He released her wrist to instead encircle her waist with his arm to steady her, and a flick of the reigns had the armored gryphon take to the skies.

Nathaniel's grip on Merette was needlessly tight. His attention was to the battle raging on below them, seeing the blue of ice and unholy green, but he couldn't tell how Aylenn was managing. He couldn't lose her; he couldn't!

“Go!” her distressed voice shouted. “I can handle these weaklings!”

Wheeling the bird from an arrow shot, Nathaniel gave a curse and flicked the reigns again. He still tried catching sight of Aylenn even as his gryphon sped off, away from the Alliance camp. He had no doubt as to what they'd do to a blood elf death knight if they captured her.

Straddling the mount caused Merette's dress to ride up high, showing off her legs. Nathaniel noticed that as he finally turned his attention forward, arms around her to grip the reigns and prevent her from falling. As they flew from the danger, hearts pounding, Merette leaned back against him.

“Why did you saved me?” she muttered to him, head just under his chin. “You risked both of your lives to rescue me from execution. I'm just your pleasure girl. I'm supposed to face execution for trying to run away.”

Nathaniel said nothing back to her. As they neared the keep, he finally growled softly, “Pray to your dark god and that of the light that Aylenn lives. For if she doesn't...”

Merette shivered. The raw emotion in his voice said more than the hanging threat. Knowing at this point only the meekest and most submissive of behaviors could get her through this alive and not broken from the following punishment, she answered softly, “Yes, my Lord.”

They dismounted at the entrance to the keep. The moment Merette's feet touched the stone, however, Nathaniel suddenly threw her against the wall, arm against her throat and holding her off the ground. His teeth were bared in a snarl. “You are my pleasure girl! Mine! You will not try escaping again, EVER! Do you understand me?”

Chocking from his hold, Merette desperately tried nodding, letting out strangled sounds. For that moment, she felt like she really wouldn't ever again if it meant he wouldn't react like this. There wasn't even a threat or a promise if she were to disobey. Only a command that she was to follow. The rage that was holding him scared her, and she knew that his unusual reaction from him was solely because of worry for his wife, one of the Lich King's many servants. He truly did care for that death knight.

Nathaniel released her, watching as she slid down to the ground and sat with her back to the wall, coughing the whole time. He leaned against the wall and lowered himself to the ground as well, sitting next to her. He focused on controlling his breathing, the first step for controlling his emotions. Slowly, he sealed his worries away, leaving behind only a cold patience.

There was the steady beating of wings from the sky, and Nathaniel calmly turned to see Aylenn approaching on her undead gryphon. He rose to meet her, offering his hand to dismount with as she landed. She took it, smiling at the gesture, and allowed herself to be pulled off her mount. She looked none the worse.

“Told you I could handle myself,” she said.

Still that odd calm, Nathaniel smiled and nodded. “I didn't doubt you for a minute.” He didn't release her hand.

Aylenn faced the seated Merette and narrowed her eyes. “And you. You need to decide right now which you prefer: life as a whore or death. I won't save that ass of yours again, so if you can't find devotion to your expected duties here, I will carry out your sentence right here, right now.”

Merette closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the walls. She swallowed once, then opened her eyes to say, “I've given up.... mistress. I'll be the whore if it means I live.” Meek and submissive entirely from now on. I can't afford another stunt like this again, not unless its certain I can get away.

“Then you are overdressed, pleasure girl,” Aylenn hissed, tone not lightening by her choice. As Merette began taking off the dress, she continued, “And as punishment for this stunt of yours, I'm going to have you getting me off each morning with your mouth until I decide you have repaid your dept. Anything to add, dear?”

“Spankings,” he said immediately, fingers now laced with Aylenn's and expression growing stern, “until you learn your lesson. Like a child who couldn't obey her parents. Varna and Sigrid will be allowed their own punishments as well.”

“Yes, my Lord,” Merette agreed weakly, despair already swelling. But she was alive, that was what mattered, and so long as she obeyed, she would remain that way.

From the shadows of the keep's interior, Sylva watched the cultist's reprimanding. She felt a low burning of satisfaction as Merette was again stripped bare, forced to bow her head and leg to the two, the cruel captor now the slave. When she first heard the cultist had escaped, Sylva had been beyond fear, mind playing scenarios where she became captured again. Even the intimidating Vrykul was preferable to being alone, and she had quietly tagged along with the woman, desperately waiting for when Nathaniel would return.

She still couldn't conceive a safe world without him in it, but his words remained in her head. All day she had thought on them, found them logical, but there was more than simple logic to what she was feeling. She had grown obsessed with him, needing that comforting presence only he could provide.

Braving her fear was only one step she knew she needed to take, and Sylva left the shadows to approach the trio. She needed to be able to stand in Merette's presence without cowering, especially now that the woman was just a pleasure girl. Nathaniel's presence helped her.

“Sylva,” Nathaniel greeted neutrally as she approached.

The words began to fuddle in her mind as the three pairs of eyes set on her. Sylva sucked in a breath, hoping she could get it all out before she lost her nerve. Looking right at Nathaniel, she said, “You're wrong. While I agree that it was the events of my rescue that started it, my feelings are an accumulation of factors that happened since then, catalyzed by the rescue. I have no further doubts that I love you for what you have done for me, and I beseech you – and you, Lady Aylenn – one last time to please allow me to join you. I'll- I'll even become a pleasure girl, if that is all you are willing to have me for.”

Nathaniel sighed and turned away from Sylva, wrapping an arm around around his wife. “Sylva, I'm s-”

“You are a pleasant sight,” Aylenn interrupted, eyes studying Sylva's body the way only a man's would. “You purple-skinned cousins of ours always had that mysterious appeal too, sleek and sexy forms darting through forests, melding into the shadows... You yourself, once you get your weight back, will be something gorgeous, like a flower I'd enjoy having on display for every day.”

Sylva stared at her, silver eyes hopeful, but Aylenn shook her head at her. “However, dear, you aren't what's on our menu. You don't deserve that kind of life. You don't even belong a concubine. You just need your feet back under you; I can guarantee once that happens, you'll see how unsatisfied you'd have been with us.”

Staring at Aylenn a few moments longer, Sylva grew a sad smile and closed her eyes. “I figured it would come to this. In my heart, I feel that you are wrong as well. However, you are right that I must get my feet back under me, and that is my next step. If there is nothing I can do to change your minds, I will attempt to face that vicious unknown and I will leave.”

“Then may that path find you glory,” Aylenn told her, smiling at the night elf's attempt of bravery.

Nathaniel watched her behind an expressionless mask. “Farewell, Sylva, and good luck. Remember that the door is always open for you here.”

Sylva's smile remained as she shook her head. “Elune's blessing on you, heroes. I am indebted to you beyond anything I can give.” She faced Merette, expression falling into one of fear and loathing, then slowly clearing to disgust. “You deserve this and more.” She spat on the stones. Turning on her heel, Sylva pulled he bag she had prepared over her shoulder, and with a final thanks and parting, she left Utgarde Keep.

The fear remained that she might be captured again, as did the possibility, but Sylva knew that she couldn't hide herself until the fear went away. She decided to face it head on. Besides, even if she was captured again, perhaps her prince would rescue her yet again.

-

Aylenn sent Merette staggering into the cell, still naked. She closed and locked the door behind her, studying the two inmates. Forsaken Dark Ranger and Cult of the Damned researcher. The cell was thick iron and stone, something not even the Dark Ranger would be able to break free of.

Lyana only stared back at Aylenn, hate obvious in her eyes yet completely silent. She lay propped against the wall, feet splayed before her with the knees bent. She wore a simple black blouse and a pair of black shorts, and it appeared Aylenn's size fit her well. No longer in her extravagant gold, much of Lyana's intimidating presence as one of Sylvanas' chosen was diminished. However, none of her predatory stance had changed a wit. She looked like a caged lioness patiently waiting for the gazelle to make the mistake of getting too close.

Merette on the other hand was the opposite of such composure. She huddled into herself, probably finding the stone floor cold without a stitch on for warmth. She didn't glare back at Aylenn, only stared at the wall, trying to ignore her. As opposed to dangerously waiting, she appeared to be simply enduring. The Cult markings on her face remained starkly obvious even so, and Aylenn recalled exactly who it was they were locking in here.

“My clothes look good on you,” Aylenn said finally, a light mock in her voice. “As one of our Lord's concubine, this pleasure girl is yours to use as you wish. Try not to damage her though or our Lord will be angered.”

Silence from Lyana, still just staring back at her. The side of Aylenn's lips stretched in an amused smile. Her training would be starting soon.

“Good night you two.” She turned and left them.

- -


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