Meeting with Geyah

[moonshadows]

Illidan watched through the projection crystal floating before his throne as Zul’vii approached the cluster of earthen buildings that he assumed was Garadar. After the success of meeting with the Aldor priestess, making contact with the Mag’har was the next logical step. He’d talked extensively with his fel orc allies, learning everything he could about the uncorrupted brown orcs, who led them, and the territory they occupied. That they were sensitive to demonic energy, and that Nagrand remained lush and healthy, could not be unrelated. He wanted that health for all of Draenor, wanted the Mag’har as his allies – but he knew all too well that they had to be approached very, very carefully.

Impatiently, he shifted the sleeping body of Ember on his lap while Zul’vii was escorted to a large building at the top of a hill, and into the presence of – an elderly female? Surely that couldn’t still be the-

“Greatmother,” one of the Mag’har said, thumping his chest respectfully. “You have a visitor.”

The white-haired old orc peered up at Zul’vii. “Go and fetch Saurfang and Hellscream. And bring some food and water for our guest.” She gestured for the troll to sit on a woven mat across from the one she occupied and waited. Soon enough, two burly young bucks entered and sat to either side of her while bread, fruit, and water were placed on the packed earthen floor between them. “Now then. I am Greatmother Geyah, mate of Garad, chieftan of the Frostwolf Clan. I lead the Mag’har, as much as a mother can be said to lead her children. Who are you, and why have you come here?”

“My name is Zul’vii,” the troll answered respectfully. “I am here as an emissary for Illidan Stormrage, who would give you the honor and respect you deserve by speaking to you in person, save that he does not wish to bring the taint of demons to your land and your people.”

White eyebrows arched, and Geyah sat up straighter. “The demon lord does not wish to spread his taint? I am curious what he could have to say, now. What could he possibly want with us?”

Illidan heard the smile in his troll’s voice as Zul’vii said, “The crystal I wear can transmit his image and words, if you would like to ask him yourself.”

“I think I would,” the old woman murmured. But first – why would he send you?”

“If he sent one of the fel orcs under his banner, they would be turned away on sight,” she answered promptly. “The Broken are still tainted by the fel energy that twisted them. The naga would be shot as monsters, and the blood elves are…not as patient as my lord would want his emissary to be. That leaves me.”

“And what are you, then, child?”

“I am the daughter of a healing spirit and a troll who were exiled to this world; here I was born and raised. My birthright is healing magic powerful enough that it would be more trouble than it’s worth to kill me, and I am my lord’s most trusted advisor. I am also highly sensitive to fel energy, and that is what led to these.” She tapped the large crystal at her throat. “Crystals enchanted to absorb demonic energy so that it cannot hurt anything. Without this, I would be unable to stand in Shadowmoon Valley.”

“Hmph.” Despite herself, Geyah looked impressed at the implication that Illidan had just sent her a hostage. “So what does your master want with us?”

“I think it would be best to let him explain that,” Zul’vii said. “With your permission?”

The old woman nodded, and Zul’vii activated the crystal that would transmit. Three sets of orcish eyebrows climbed skywards as the projection of Illidan on his throne appeared in the air before them.

“Greetings to you, Greatmother Geyah, mate of Garad,” he said evenly. “Thank you for hearing my emissary and allowing me this chance to speak with you.”

“She still hasn’t told us what you want,” Geyah retorted sharply.

Illidan smiled. “I want a great many things I cannot have, but that is neither here nor there. As for the purpose of this visit, I have claimed Draenor as my own and proclaimed it to be under my protection, and I wish to count the Mag’har my allies.”

“We will not join you, demon,” one of the bucks spat.

“Garrosh.”

The orc male subsided at Geyah’s sharp tone.

“I do not want to pull any of your warriors away from Nagrand,” Illidan said hastily. “Nor do I wish to invade or in any way despoil it. Until I can find a way for all of Draenor to be as lush and healthy, I wish to protect Nagrand.”

Three orcs stared at him in startled silence.

“My emissary has no doubt told you of the crystals that absorb demonic energy. I have tested them on broken islands that were once part of Terokkar, and seen that they can prevent the land itself from sickening. With your permission, I would set up these crystals around the borders of Nagrand to keep your land safe.”

“And with what in return? Don’t expect me to believe that you’re doing this out of the kindness of your own heart.”

“Of course not; my heart is a notoriously small and dark place. But I have claimed this world, and I will defend it to my dying breath. Part of that is the responsibility to see Draenor returned to as much health as a shattered world can manage, with all of its inhabitants working together in harmony. If fear of me must be the grease that eases the squeaky wheel at first, then so be it, but the senseless fighting must stop. I have taken the first steps towards peace with High Priestess Ishanah of the Aldor. Even making no demands on you and your people, I would count you among my allies and extend my protection to you, and hope that some day the wisdom that has kept Nagrand healthy can be used to benefit the rest of this world.”

The elderly orc looked at her companions, silently asking their opinions.

“Demons cannot be trusted,” the one called Garrosh said sullenly, “nor can any who are corrupted by them.”

“And yet,” pointed out the other, “he has gone out of his way to keep the fel taint away from us. Fel taint does not equal evil; even Durotan had green skin.”

Garrosh scowled.

“Durotan…Zul’vii, isn’t that the name of the Horde’s capitol?”

“Hmm? No,” the troll said, thinking hard. “That’s Orgrimmar. But they named the land Durotar.”

Geyah paled. “My son is dead?”

The orc who was not Garrosh glanced at Illidan’s puzzled image. “By orcish custom, we only name places after great warriors who have already joined the ancestors.” He scowled. “That means Doomhammer must have fallen, as well. Who leads the Horde? Is it still Blackhand?”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Illidan said gently. “I should have remembered that. No, Blackhand was slain years ago by Orgrim Doomhammer. The one who leads the Horde now is called Thrall. I believe he was chosen by Doomhammer; he bears the weapon and the armor.” Suddenly, he stiffened.

“Illidan?” Zul’vii asked, somewhat concerned.

“Greatmother Geyah, forgive me for not remembering sooner, but it has been a few years and those years were particularly unkind to me – Thrall, Warchief of the Horde, is your grandson.”

“My-”

“-father,” Garrosh interrupted. “Does my father-”

“Grom Hellscream died slaying the pit lord Mannoroth,” the half-demon said gently. “His sacrifice freed the orcs on Azeroth from the curse of demon blood. He was honor-brother to Thrall. Greatmother, with your permission I will send word to your grandson. Portals between the worlds are not something to be undertaken lightly, but I will expend the effort gladly to see a son reunited with his only family.” He swallowed. “Durotan and Draka were murdered shortly after their son’s birth. Ten thousand years has not erased the pain of my parents’ death; my heart may be a small and dark place, but family is sacred to me.”

Geyah said nothing for a long minute, tears streaming down her face. “Who is the child?” she asked finally.

Startled, Illidan looked down at his lap where Ember still napped. His face softened. “My daughter, Ember.”

“She looks like a sweet child.”

Illidan chuckled, one taloned finger gently smoothing hair away from her cheek. “It’s an illusion brought about by sleep. She is a wild thing, full of energy and mischief, chewing anything she can fit in her mouth, afraid of nothing.”

“I’d like to meet her.”

Although the words were mild, it was not a casual statement. Geyah was making a demand, and Illidan stiffened.

“She is also the host to a very powerful demon, one held in check mainly by the youth of her body. I am…highly reluctant to let her out of my reach.”

“I can handle her if she has a fit,” Zul’vii offered.

“You’re sure? What if he takes the opportunity to-”

“Illidan,” she said patiently, and he was sure her eyes were rolling, “put a tracking crystal on her torc. That way you can keep an eye on her.”

The three orcs exchanged glances at how visibly reluctant Illidan was.

“Do you think she’d like to play with the other children?” Geyah asked mildly.

“Yes,” Zul’vii answered.

“Watch her carefully. Make sure she doesn’t bite.” Illidan stopped in dismay, realizing he’d just agreed to the visit.

“Consider it a test of trust,” said the elderly orc. “You are trusting us with your daughter, and by giving your trust, you gain ours. We are trusting your crystals to do what you claim they can, and when we are convinced, you will be able to count us your allies. But I will hold you to your word,” she promised sternly. “We will keep to ourselves, and you will keep your forces out of Nagrand.”

“Agreed, with one condition,” he replied. “I will fashion warnings into the crystal pillars, and give you a communication crystal like the one Zul’vii bears. If you find yourself under attack or in any way in need of assistance, call and I will come. I will allow Ember to visit for three days-”

“Five days.”

He winced. “…five days, so long as she is agreeable, starting tomorrow. Zul’vii will lead you back to the clearing I opened a portal in, far enough away that its energy would not harm Nagrand, and I will send Ember through.”

“Send two of those fel-absorbing crystals, too,” Geyah said. “At the end of Ember’s visit, I want Hellscream and Saurfang to visit the Black Temple. They will lead the Mag’har when I am gone, and I want them to know what the rest of our world is like.” She smiled thinly at the shocked orcs. “They have grown up sheltered, here. You will entrust your daughter to me, and in turn I will entrust them to you.”

Behind his blindfold, Illidan’s eyes narrowed. “For how long?”

“For as long as it takes you to be satisfied in their ability to lead,” she answered calmly. “That should also be enough time to send that letter to my grandson and arrange a visit for him, too.”

Illidan studied her for a moment, then smiled. “Garad was a lucky orc,” he said. “Agreed.”

 

 

“You’re really going to trust him, Greatmother? Just like that?”

Geyah scowled at Garrosh. “You weren’t paying attention. If he had been planning to use my grandson as leverage, he would have done so immediately. Zul’vii, have you met him?”

The troll started. “Yes, once. I don’t remember very much except that he was big and green.” She flushed. “Illidan was…recovering from a wound of the soul, and his health was my primary concern.”

“You love him,” the older woman said smugly.

Zul’vii tossed her short, pale-gold hair. “It’s the nature of my kind. I bonded to him; we are sickeningly happy together but suffer terribly if separated. We spent three years apart,” she continued quietly. “It was horrible. Most days I didn’t have the strength to cry, let alone get up and feed myself, until I got word that he was back on Draenor. Knowing that he was there if I could only get to him…I dragged myself from the lands north of the mountains filled with gronn and ogres down to Shadowmoon Valley. By the time I got there I was a breath away from dying; he was beside himself with worry.”

Geyah asked intently, “Does he love you?”

“Understand that Illidan spent ten thousand years imprisoned, alone, with a woman who tried to break him by telling him that no one would ever love him. He wasn’t lying when he said his heart was a small and dark place. For ten thousand years, the only one he cared about at all was a woman who chose his twin brother over him. That’s a wound that can’t just be shrugged off. He cares deeply for me, but it took three years of separation for him to admit to even that much.” Amber eyes challenged each orc in turn. “He adores Ember, and he cares deeply for me. If it takes him years to utter the word ‘love’, I’m okay with that.”

In his workroom, preparing the crystal that would let him track Ember, Illidan flinched. Even if he couldn’t say the word – and he wasn’t sure he could – he vowed to find a way to show her that he did.

“The child isn’t yours,” the orc called Saurfang said cautiously.

“No, she isn’t. What’s your point?”

“He followed your lead.”

“He trusts me.”

Saurfang nodded. “You were right, Greatmother. He’s not in it for the power.”

“He could be lying,” Garrosh protested sullenly. “If he cares so little about the rest of the world, why would he offer to bring this…Thrall…here just because?”

“He has nightmares,” Zul’vii said softly. “He won’t talk about them to anyone, even me, unless he absolutely has no choice. He buries his pain and tries to carry on, doing his best to deny anything that could be a weakness while secretly bleeding from it. His parents died when he was a child, and that hurt him so much that ten thousand years later, it haunts his sleep. Illidan doesn’t do kind things for others very often, but when he does, he means them from the bottom of his dark and bleeding heart.”

Geyah nodded. “Just as I thought. He’s a good boy trying to do what he thinks is right in a world that thinks he’s wrong. The ancestors approve of him, so I’ll hear no more on the subject, is that understood?”

“Yes, Greatmother,” chorused the two Mag’har bucks.

 

 

Two brown-skinned orcs stepped out of the portal, looking around at the damaged architecture of the Black Temple that spread out from their perch on the rooftop. Ember rode the shoulders of the one called Saurfang, cheerfully gnawing on one brown ear. When Zul’vii stepped through, Illidan breathed a sigh of relief and let the portal close before sweeping her into a crushing hug, arms and wings both wrapped around her.

“Illidan?”

“I missed you,” he murmured into her hair, oblivious to the audience his actions had attracted.

“I’m here now, you moldy old bat. I’m not going anywhere.”

Illidan made no response, and the troll shifted until she could peer into his face.

“Illidan…have you not been sleeping?”

“I had nightmares,” he confessed while the two orcs exchanged looks of Are you kidding me and I told you so. “New ones. You were gone,” he finished in a whisper.

Zul’vii went utterly still. Losing her was now a trauma to compete with the deaths of his parents and the loss of his eyes. He didn’t need to say the word; this was all the proof she needed that he loved her.

“I’m here now,” she murmured soothingly, letting her energy flow into him. “I’m not going anywhere.”

His body soaked up the energy like a man dying of thirst gulping clean water, and she wondered if she should be feeding him like this regularly, despite his insistence that it was better for him to consume the demonic energy collected from the crystals and put it to good use that way. Slowly he relaxed his desperate grip on her until finally, he straightened up and mantled his wings as if to challenge any onlookers to comment.

Naturally, that’s when Ember swarmed up his leg with a cry of “Daddy!” until she could gnaw gleefully on the forward membrane of one wing.

“Daddy missed you too, you little beast.” Grinning broadly, Illidan wrangled the child off his shoulder and upside-down in his arms, blowing raspberries into her stomach while she shrieked with laughter and hugged his neck. Looking much more relaxed, he let her perch on his shoulders and nibble one ear while clinging to the curves of his horns. “Garrosh Hellscream. Saurfang the Younger. Welcome to the Black Temple.”

“You’re a lot less intimidating when Ember’s climbing you like a tree, Lord Stormrage,” Saurfang said with a straight face. “It’s strange to see someone as fearsome as you and realize that you’re a father who loves his daughter.”

“Ah, but that is precisely what makes me so fearsome.” Illidan casually hooked an arm around Zul’vii. “Were it not for my daughter and my troll, I would not care what happens to this, or any other, world.”