moonshadows

She only heard the scream because she still had one mental finger inside his mind. Although he still looked relaxed, something was desperately wrong. The hand caressing his horn faltered, and with an effort she resumed the calming motion while she plunged into the native visualization of his mind.

The scream came again; the voice of a child, high and terrified. An enormous night-dark feline of some kind whined from within its pen, straining towards the path leading to the tiny clearing she'd last seen the injured child in, but it was hobbled by bandages and soft ropes. There would be no help from that direction. Her avatar plunged into the forest, wings pulled in tight as she ran down the path the child had shown her. When she burst into the clearing, she stopped in shock. The boy was standing defiantly between the moon-drenched flower, and...

A black dragon. What in the Nether is this supposed to signify?

No time to ask questions. Whatever the flower represented, it was deeply important to her Kal'shan and this dragon was threatening it.

Focus on the end, not the means. I don't need to know what the dragon is, just that it needs to die.

Two shining curved blades appeared in her hands, smaller versions of the Warglaives of Azzinoth that glowed the same purple as her skin. The dragon's snout lunged towards her, and the blades lashed out to meet it. The first strike missed the eye she'd been aiming for as the dragon jerked its head back, but the second blade bit into the creature's throat. The beast roared, tearing the glaive from her hand as it reared back in pain. One scaly claw pawed at its neck, knocking the glowing blade to the ground - where the wounded boy snatched it up and charged fearlessly forward to plunge it into the dragon's heart.

Just then, her Kal'shan stirred beneath her fingers, releasing her hand and forcing himself sharply up onto his knees. Concentration shattered, her avatar dissolved and she found herself abruptly back in her own mind. The grim look on his face barely registered; her concern was that the dragon-construct and her unexpected exit had damaged him somehow.

Or at least, it was her concern right up until his lips touched hers.

I'm still not sure what just happened, she thinks dazedly, vaguely aware that he's pulled her into his lap and is cradling her gently, but I think he's okay for now.

It's a good thing he seems content to just hold her, because he's thoroughly derailed her trains of thought. Part of her really wants to figure out what the implications of that delicate kiss are, but every time she tries to think about it, all she gets is 'Wow!' and her thoughts dissolve into swirls of wonder and adoration.

His hand in her hair doesn't help much. When he hesitantly runs it up one of her horns, she can't help nuzzling his chest with a soft cry. He holds her tighter at that, a whisper of concern drifting down from his mind.

"...feel safe..."

Even that much speech is almost beyond her; she wants to absolutely melt down into a puddle of happy half-demon. It seems to be enough, however. His arms relax slightly, and one finger brushes the cheek not pressed against his chest.

She feels safe. That amazes him. Knowing how dangerous he is, knowing that he nearly killed her at least once, she feels safe in his arms. Can there be any more conclusive proof of her devotion to him?

Would Tyrande ever have felt safe in my arms?

He shoves the thought away; there’s been more than enough self-inflicted damage today. It’s enough that his Champion can be trusted to see him at his worst and not mock him or turn away, a blessing that she will do whatever-it-is to call him back when he is lost within himself, and a godsend that she feels safe in his embrace. It still perplexes him with all the power over him she possesses, she isn’t trying to use it to her advantage. She didn’t try to sell her services in exchange for power or wealth, either for herself or for her adopted family. She makes no demands of him, in terms of objects, actions, or time. The few requests she does make are just that – requests – and if he refuses them, she does not fight his decision. On top of that, the demands he makes of her are met with an eagerness and delight that he has not seen since his brother was accepted as the demigod’s student in the ways of nature.

He would be afraid of her having been planted here ahead of him, except that she has never lied to him, and she has given him the means with which he could escape pursuit.

When she taught him how to shift into the Twisting Nether, she warned him that he wouldn’t be able to see her trail the way he could see his own. He wouldn’t be able to hear her presence as he could his brother’s. Indeed, when he shifted into that nebulous realm for the first time, he saw the hazy black/purple/green smoke trail that he himself left and heard the faint baritone call of his twin, but he could not see her trail or hear the sound of her soul. Only the magic that tied her to him showed her which direction she had gone when she demonstrated moving, and left his immediate presence. Had there been anyone who could track him, she’d assured him, he would also be able to track them. He’d spent many minutes just standing there, listening in all directions until he was satisfied that no other blood-calls could be heard – and that he could see the trail that led away from this world. The faint path that would, if he chose, lead him back to the ruined planet he’d once claimed as his own.

Slowly, he trails his fingertips up the ridged surface of her horn again and feels his lips quirk in delight as she mewls softly. It seems the motion is as comforting to her as it is to him. When was the last time he’d been able to comfort anyone? He can’t remember. This, too, is a precious gift she is unaware that she has given him. In the wake of everything else that has happened today, the seed of a dream is born and for the first time since he was caged beneath Mount Hyjal, he does not move to strangle it before it can take root.

Some day…some day, my Champion, we will find a place where neither of us has to hide what we are, and there we will live happily.