At Dream's End.

[Yva]

The large black cat stretched, his coat glimmering in the faint candlelight. She scratched beneath his chin, chuckling as he licked at her neck, rubbing his muzzle against her upper chest.

“My pet.”

“No, my pet.” If a cat could smile, he did.

She stood, stretching her arms above her head, disregarding her casual nudity. Her white hair curled around her waist, and she tsked, eyeing the pink color tingeing the ends.

“Blood never comes out,” she said on a pout.

“You look good in blood,” the cat replied, lazing onto his side, his yellow eyes going half mast.

“I look good in everything.” She ran her fingers down her stomach, licking her lips as she smiled at him.

“Very true, love.”

She laughed, spinning on her heel, walking towards the table in the center of the room, the top of it covered by a plain white sheet.

“He’s being so sulky,” she said, pulling the sheet away. The Kaldorei lying there blinked at her, his brow knit together in pain. “Keep looking at me and I’ll poke your eyes out.” She angled her fingernails at his glimmering silver orbs, and he slammed them closed with a whimper. She poked into the lids, forcing him to wince.

“You’d think he’d behave,” the cat said. He’d moved behind her legs, rubbing against her bare skin as if he could leave his scent on her. She reached down, idly toying with his ear.

“They never learn.” She hoisted herself onto the table, dropping her smooth thighs to either side of the pinned elf’s waist. He wore nothing but a pair of silken undergarments, and she ground against him, grunting at the flaccid nothingness beneath her. “If he could actually enjoy himself, I’d have so much more fun with this.”

“I do believe that has something to do with your art, love. He’s in quite a lot of pain.”

“Maybe I should asphyxiate him?” Indara looked down at her victim’s chest, at the cavity flayed open, the ribs exposed, the insides pulsing with life and blood. The heavy flaps of his skin were pinned to the side, practically stapled in place. “I heard asphyxiation is a good way to pique someone’s interest.”

The cat lifted a massive paw to his mouth. He licked at it, rubbing it over his forehead. “Perhaps. Or perhaps you’ll kill him and have to find a new toy.”

“I just got this one!” She stroked her hand down the Kaldorei’s face, smiling at his pained whine. Her free hand reached into his chest, slipping between the ribs they’d broken away. She sighed with reverence as her fingers closed around his beating heart, gently squeezing the muscle. It gushed warm beneath her fingers. “So much life, so much youth.” She kept her hand there, leaning over the elf’s body to rest her cheek against his own. Tears drizzled down his face, and she craned her neck to lick them away. “Your life is my life. You keep me forever beautiful.”

She pulled her hand out of his chest, staring at the blood dripping there. She rubbed it over her moonlight skin, sighing with pleasure as it dried to a rusty, sticky film. The cat watched her, his tail lashing.

“I think maybe it’s good that you can’t fuck them. I’d never have you too myself.”

“Oh yes you would. I’ll always serve you, love, and you’ll serve me. This is our forever.” She stuck a blood smeared finger into her mouth, suckling on it, her moan low and suggestive.

The cat’s purr was immediate. “Get off of him.”

She ground against her captive’s pelvis, her eyes fluttering closed at the taste of the blood, at the stickiness of the blood drying on her chest and breasts. “Young and beautiful forever for you, love. We’ll keep him alive as long as we can, and he’ll keep me perfect for you. I want to be perfect for you.”

“Get down here and let me remind you who you belong to.”

She laughed.

The cat pounced on her, knocking her off of the table and onto her back, his paws to either side of her head. “Enough games.” His tongue lapped at the blood on her skin, and she wrapped her arms around him, moaning as the fur rippled away to smooth, blue elf skin.

“I love you Fedwyn.”

“Mine, Indarra. You’ll always be mine.”

[Sunshine]

((Eep.))

[Yva]

((It starts the same, bear with. There’s a reason for it - H))

The large black cat stretched, his coat glimmering in the faint candlelight. She scratched beneath his chin, chuckling as he licked at her neck, rubbing his muzzle against her upper chest.

“My pet.”

“No, my pet.” If a cat could smile, he did.

She stood, stretching her arms above her head, disregarding her casual nudity. Her white hair curled around her waist, and she tsked, eyeing the pink color tingeing the ends.

“Blood never comes out,” she said on a pout.

“You look good in blood,” the cat replied, lazing onto his side, his yellow eyes going half mast.

“I look good in everything.” She ran her fingers down her stomach, licking her lips as she smiled at him.

“Very true, love.”

She laughed, spinning on her heel, walking towards the table in the center of the room, the top of it covered by a plain white sheet.

“He’s being so sulky,” she said, pulling the sheet away. The Kaldorei lying there blinked at her, his brow knit together in pain. “Keep looking at me and I’ll poke your eyes out.” She angled her fingernails at his glimmering silver orbs, and he slammed them closed with a whimper. She poked into the lids, forcing him to wince.

“You’d think he’d behave,” the cat said. He’d moved behind her legs, rubbing against her bare skin as if he could leave his scent on her.

She reached down, idly toying with his ear.

“They never learn.” She hoisted herself onto the table, dropping her smooth thighs to either side of the pinned elf’s waist. He wore nothing but a pair of silken undergarments, and she ground against him, grunting at the flaccid nothingness beneath her. “If he could actually enjoy himself, I’d have so much more fun with this.”

“I do believe that has something to do with your art, love. He’s in quite a lot of pain.”

“Maybe I should asphyxiate him?” Indara looked down at her victim’s chest, at the cavity flayed open, the ribs exposed, the insides pulsing with life and blood. The heavy flaps of his skin were pinned to the side, practically stapled in place. “I heard . . . “ her voice trailed.

Something from the corner caught her eye. She peered at it, her brow creasing.

A phantom?

She slipped her hand into the elf’s chest, getting just a few drops of blood on the pad of her finger, sticking it into her mouth before sliding off of him.

“What is it?” The cat said, following her lead and peering at the darker places of the room.

“I don’t know.” She started towards the corner. A man’s shape grew more discernable, his previously amorphous frame gaining a solid outline. Her phantom was tall, and older than most Kaldorei she knew. His hair was snow white, his face was weathered by age lines.

“Who are you?” She demanded, her eyes narrowing. “A spy? One of Azshara’s cronies?“ She lifted a hand toward him, the ends of her fingers flickering with shadow and cold flame. Her magic reached for his mind, wanting to find it, and if need be, destroy it.

A word flashed through her brain.

“Ulthanon?” She said aloud.

The man peered at her, nodding once.

“That is your name.”

He nodded again.

You don’t belong here, she thought to herself. His mind was here, but it also wasn’t, and that wasn’t easy to explain. She didn’t know what manner of magic this was, but she didn’t like it.

She cleared her throat, her chin going up a notch. She turned her body to its best advantage, drizzling her fingers over the top of a breast. “Come here, Ulthanon. I have something to show you.”

He shook his head no.

“But don’t you think me beautiful?”

He didn’t move. He just looked at her, and past her, at the man strapped to the table.

She followed his gaze with a delicate shrug. “That was the last spy. As you can see . . . “ She let it trail, a brilliant smile on her mouth. “He has his uses now.”

He backed away from her, and she followed, mirroring his movements as he slipped from shadow to shadow. “I just want you to come here. Maybe I’ll let you kiss me. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

He shook his head ‘no.’

She pouted. “Fedwyn, I don’t think he wants to kiss me.”

“He’s a fool, love.”

She laughed, watching the odd man retreat. He turned his head, a frown settling on his mouth as he realized he had nowhere else to run. The door was on the other side of the room, and he’d wedged himself into a corner. She heard him murmur, a recitation of odd chants she’d never heard before. The air also took on a foreign perfume; an incense or smoke burned nearby that she couldn’t place.

“Oh no you don’t,” she snapped, reaching for him. She almost grabbed his shirt, but he wriggled away. She lunged again, and this time, she managed to capture his wrist, her fingers manacling around his skin. She squeezed. “Come here, you.”

He gasped, his eyes rolling back in his head at the contact.

And as she tried to tug him out of shadow, as she tried to pull him toward her, he disappeared as quickly as he’d appeared.

“Well I’ll be damned,” she muttered, staring at the empty space before her.

“That you are,” the cat said, a deep purr rumbling in his chest.

[Elestera]

((
...
Whiskey, Tango, Foxtrot...
))

[Yva]

Indarra heard Ulthanon’s wheeze as he pulled himself from the dream, landing in a heap by the fire.

“Are you all right?” She said quietly, her hands glowing with magic. Healing energy swept over his skin, his hair dancing as if touched by a light breeze.

He grit his teeth as his hand went to his wrist. “You . . . she burned me. What the hell was that?“

Indarra looked wounded. “I didn’t do it purposefully, I assure you. I’m sorry. Let me see it?”

He held his hand towards her, and she winced at the ugly red marring his skin. She did her best to soothe it with magic, but there was something wrong about the injury. It would not fade. Her healing was repelled by a foreign taint in the burn.

“You should not have looked,” she said quietly. “It is my nightmare, and I believe Fedwyn is toying with me from within the Emerald Dream. I don’t want you hurt.”

“You’re not going after him, Indarra. Not . . . not with that going on.”

She cleared her throat, folding her hands in her lap. She lowered her eyes, and he reached out to tilt her chin up, forcing her to look him in the face. “It’s too dangerous. There are emerald flight being corrupted in there, kid. You’re not trained, you don’t know how to move around those things. A bad dream isn’t worth the risk.”

“But I don’t remember who I am!” She spat, her hands balling into fists. “I have three thousand years of memories, but in every last one of them, I’m a fully trained priestess. I have no recollection of how I was trained, where I was trained, or when. What if he . . . what . . . what if that’s what I WAS, and Fedwyn wants to torture me with it? Do you understand what that means? What a mockery I am?” Her eyes dewed with tears, and her shoulders began to shake. “If I was that awful thing, everything I hold dear to myself . . . everything I value is an utter joke.”

“No, Indarra. Who you were is not who you are. If you are happy with who you are . . . “

“Of course I’m not,” she said, cutting him off. “Most people loathe me. Some people think I’m horrid because I hold myself to a higher level of courtesy. I do not . . . “ Her chin went up a notch. “I do not claim to be happy. I’ve alienated everyone who ever held me dear, including you.”

“Hell.”

“It can be, yes,” she said, slipping into Darnassian.

They stared at the fire, the night growing thick around them. A cricket chirped in a nearby tree.

“Why would he do this?” He said after a time, throwing another log onto the dying embers. “What would he gain from forcing this dream on you?”

“I don’t precisely know. I supposedly murdered him – that is why I was exiled. Perhaps this is retaliation for my attack upon his person.”

Ulthanon ran his hand through his hair. “But HOW’S he even living there? Physically living in the dream? Makes no sense.”

“I do . . . I do not know. I’ve spoken with Aleros about this, and he’s trying to help, but there are many questions still.”

“Exactly.” His look was pointed. “You don’t know, and that’s why you can’t go into the Dream.”

Indarra gathered her shawl around her shoulders, suddenly feeling the chill on the Feralas air. “I simply want to know who I am, who I was. I want to know if that dream is just something horrible or . . . “

“I understand, but you can’t go, Indi.”

She swallowed a whimper, drawing a thin blanket from her bags. “I do not . . . “ She shook her head, hanging her head so her white hair hid her face.

He reached forward, tucking the heavy strands behind her ear. “You don’t what, kid?”

“I have no right to ask, but would you hold me?” She blinked at him, her cheeks streaked with tears she didn’t want to shed. “Just for a little while. I know we are no longer together, but . . . ”

He never said a word, just opened his arms. She slid in his lap, enjoying the comfort of an old friend, the warmth of his chest and the smell of smoke in his clothes.

For just a few hours, she pretended she was not afraid.

[Yva]

She curled into Ulthanon’s side, lulled to sleep by his deep rhythmic breathing, and Ghost’s howls in the nearby hills.

Indarrrrrra.

There was a deep purr. She tried to open her eyes, but she found she couldn’t. It was like someone had glued her eyelids to her cheeks.

You were fit for me once, but then she broke you. I tried to bring you back, and you fought me. You were quite naughty.

“No,” she whispered. “Not you.”

Did it hurt you to go to Azshara? That was Tyrande’s doing, you know. She sent you back to where she destroyed you. A lesson in humility, I suppose. My beautiful, wicked girl. So prim and proper. I wonder . . . The voice paused on a deep chuckle. I wonder if you’re still a whore. Surely that man beside you’d know. He smells like you.

Indarra whined. She wanted the voice to go away, and she huddled into a ball, shivering, afraid of the all too familiar voice. “I am a priestess of Elune, and due the according respect. And we . . . there was nothing improper between us. He is a friend.”

Respect? Who ARE you? My goodness. Malfurion’s woman is rather adept. She dismantled you. There was an exaggerated groan. You’ll remember before you’re through, I suppose. My perfect girl with her shadows and her loveliness. I’ll help you see.

The blackness in dream split, revealing two large yellow eyes. And don’t think to hide behind this would-be shaman with his wolf, or that druid made of stone. You’re mine still, you know.

“You’re a liar! Go back to being dead, Fedwyn. Leave me alone. I’m an old woman now. I have no interest in your games.”

But don’t you want to remember? The purr intensified. Aren’t you curious who you were before you became this rigid, unfeeling thing?

“I feel. I simply do not let my emotions rule me.”

And why is that?

“That would be improper.”

His laughter was earsplitting. I think perhaps you need to be reminded of what improper truly is. You were perfection in your decadence.

“N-no. NO!”

In time, love. In time.

“NO!”

“Indi?” Ulthanon said, patting her cheek. “Wake up, kid.”

Her eyes sprung open and she half shrieked, trying to roll away from him. He slid an arm over her waist and dragged her back to him, holding her, trying to sooth her by patting her hair. “Easy. Easy. Shhhh.”

“H-he w-wa . . . Elune.” She babbled prayers, instinctually putting a shield over the two of them as if she could protect them from the dream.

“He came back?” Ulth asked. “Spirits, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

She didn’t answer.

“We’ll figure it out, Indi. I promise. We’ll figure it out.”

[aleros]

nd don’t think to hide behind this would-be shaman with his wolf, or that druid made of stone.

(( I knew Ale was hard, but not THAT hard. ))

[Yva]

Indarra woke the next morning, rolling over with a small sigh. The sleep had been horrible, the dreams even more so.

”Kill him!” She said, watching the cat dig his muzzle into the man’s stomach. Viscera and bloody tubes of intestines seeped from the open gash, spilling over the side, blackening the marble floor tiles. Her eyes met the soldier’s, and she laughed at the pain there. “Never cross me. Ever. Or you will know pain.”

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching her arms above her head. Her pristine nightgown had been thrown to the side sometime during the night, and she frowned.

“What in Elune?”

”I’m going to mend you slowly. You’ll teeter at death’s door, but I won’t let you go,” she hissed, her hands glowing with holy light. She cast a weak renewing spell, watching the eviscerated man twitch as the magic swirled around him, slowly oozing into his flesh. He moaned when she straddled his legs, leaning down to dip her hair in the blood beneath him. The air was ripe with the stink of bodily fluids, but she didn’t care. “Your pain nourishes me,” she said, caressing his cheek with the side of her pinky finger. “You’re so beautiful. The merciful thing would be to let you die, but I don't feel like it.”

She glanced over her shoulder, at the bed she shared with Ulthanon, but he was gone. Ghost was gone, his quiver was gone, the only trace he’d been there at all was the dent in his pillow and the half drunk cup of laced tea left on the nightstand. Panic rose in her chest, and she fumbled for her box, dialing his familiar channel.

He answered her with a gurgle.

“Where are you?”

“Indi?”

“Yes. Where are you,” she demanded, pulling a robe from her closet and wrapping it around her body.

“I,” he paused, sounding confused. “I’m not sure.”

“I’ll find you. You need to be here. I have more tea for you. You need rest.”

“Rest is nice.”

She frowned, ripping her hairbrush through her hair. He was disoriented, had been disoriented for weeks now. She fed him tea to keep him asleep at night, forcing rest upon him, but when he was far away, she couldn’t do that. She needed him here. He had to be here so she could care for him, so she could rest knowing he was by her side.

“I need to watch you. You’re sick, and I need to fix you. You’ve overtaxed your body. I won’t allow that,“ she babbled in Darnassian, recalling the pale film over Ulthanon’s usually bright eyes, the bags and dark circles marring his skin.

“Safira’s nice.”

Indara paused. “My pardons?”

“Saffy’s a good girl. She’s helping me, too.”

Indarra’s entire spine went rigid. Her chin elevated, her hands fisted at her sides. Shadows flickered around her fingers, licking at her wrists and climbing her arms, settling over her skin like an opaque gauze. Something cold and angry slithered through her gut, and she found her lips twitching into a smile.

The cat licked his paw, staring at her, purring as her hands glided up her stomach to her chest, cupping and squeezing the flesh with a soft, ragged moan. Her face and neck were smeared in blood, her hair was speckled with chunks of human meat. Their eyes locked, and she licked her lips, rolling over onto her hands and knees. She pulled her skirt around her waist, sliding her hand down to her hip in invitation.

“Still there, Indi?”

“Yes.” Her voice was small. She peered down at her hands, at the shadows threatening to take her, to spill over her body like some perverse shroud. Her sob was broken as she collapsed to the floor, praying to Elune for mercy.

“You all right, Kid?”

“F-fine. I’m fine. You’re sick. I’ll find you. I’ll be fine.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around her waist. She rocked back and forth, her hair spilling over her face and shoulders, veiling her from the outside world.

Through the thick strands, her gaze fell upon the abandoned nightgown, and she gagged, remembering how it got there.

You woke in the middle of the night, after that dream. You kissed his cheek, you rolled on top of him. You pulled him from his own rest with soft sighs and promises. And when he was awake, you slipped your nightgown over your head and dropped to your hands and knees, sliding your hand down to your hip in invitation.

“No,” she murmured. “No.”

Yes.

“Kid?” Ulthanon yawned over the box.

“I . . . “ She swallowed a scream, using the headboard to pull herself to standing. “I will be visiting the Temple to pray, but then I will come for you. I’ll . . . I’ll bring you tea, and soup.”

“Sounds good.”

“It will be,” she whispered, shutting the box off before he could answer.

You wanted to kill Safira.

“No I didn’t. I wouldn’t. That would be horrid,” she said to the voice in her head.

She pulled her cloak around her shoulders, hiding beneath her white hood. Her stone brought her to Shattrath, and the ensuing portal brought her to Darnassus. She nearly ran for the temple, dropping before the statue of Elune, kissing the stone toe of the goddess with near desperation.

“Mother Elune, hear my prayers,” she murmured, blessing herself and genuflecting before the waters.

She moved seven hours later.

[Yva]

The cat lazed in the tree above her head, one paw dangling down, his tail lashing as he peered at her.

Remember.

"No," she said, her voice weak. "I do not like to remember."

Remember. I insist.

*****

One thousand years ago.

So much blood.

Everywhere.

“Elune be merciful. Elune be merciful. Elune be merciful. What have I done.” Indarra dropped to her knees, gagging on the stone floor. If she’d eaten anything at all, it would have spilled forth, but her empty stomach only produced dry heaves and aching muscles. Her white hair spilled over her face, clumping and knotted and wild. Seeing the viscous red clutching at the strands, she shrieked, collapsing into a little ball. Her hands were sticky, her gown plastered to her body in a crimson sheath.

Behind her, Fedwyn’s body cooled, the knife still in his throat.

Her fingers skimmed over her swollen lips, over where he’d split her flesh like an overripe peach. Her left eye was swollen shut and throbbing. Her body ached from his anger.

How did it get like this? It was love. It was perfect. HOW?

The answer, she knew, was The Dream.

She sobbed, pounding her fists against the floor, and nearly choked on her own blood.

That was how they found her hours later.

*****

"Why?" She croaked. "I suffered for it. I was exiled for a millenium for your death, for defending myself. You tried to kill me. WHY are you doing this to me?"

I didn't want to kill you, you foolish woman. I wanted to fix you.

"By beating me until my bones broke? By striking me behind closed doors? By berating me?"

SHE BROKE YOU!

The cat dropped from the tree, directly in her path, and she stumbled away, her hand in front of her to ward him off.

To anger you, to incite some of your beauty. To rekindle your violence, but they took it away from you. They'd made you into this proper . . . thing. This mechanical thing. Thousands and thousands of years old, powerful and glorious in your decadence, and they robbed you of it. I wanted the woman I loved back, and you weren't her.

"I don't know what you're talking about!" Indarra screamed, turning on her heel to run away, her dress and cloak getting catching on the jungle branches of her dreamscape. Thick, thorny roots sprouted from the ground beneath her, winding around her ankles and lower legs, forcing her to fall forward. She hit the ground with a thud, mewling quietly. The cat sniffed at her bloody legs, licking her skin, and she shivered, the hairs on her arms standing on end.

For your crimes, she robbed you of your identity. Her priestesses purged your memories. They remolded you to their purpose, and I hated them for that. I loathed what you'd become. I still do.

"Wh-who is she?" She groaned, clawing at the ground, breaking her fingernails on the thick mud beneath her fingers.

The cat settled down beside her with a loud yawn, resting his face on the small of her back.

Tyrande, you idiot woman.

[Yva]

She put Ulthanon to bed, sighing at his rantings. He was delusional; as she’d pulled the covers over his shoulders, he engaged in a one sided conversation with the teapot.

“Tarq, I’m telling you, invest in dwarven tobacco. Resale value is skyyyyy high.”

“Sleep,” she murmured, sweeping her finger down the side of his face. He nuzzled against her palm and rolled over, burying his face in the pillows.

She wandered down the stairs, settling herself beside the fireplace, a steaming cup of tea in hand. Her eyes were half-mast and drowsy, but she didn’t want to sleep. Sleep was his domain, and he’d proven difficult to avoid. The flames crackled in the hearth, and soon she felt herself slumping, sagging into her seat against her will.

Blackness, and then the eyes, peering at her from the dense dreamscape.

They’ve upset you tonight.

“No, they haven’t. I’m learning to ignore the barbs.”

No you’re not. You’re just better at hiding your hurt.

“Do go away.”

All right.

“All right?”

It seems I have places to be.

“I don’t understand. You mean to say that all I had to ask was for you to go away and you would?”

His laughter was deep, the last of it rippling into a melodic purr.

I have a mercurial nature. It suits me to leave this time. Next time, who can say.

Indarra’s sigh was ragged. “Just leave me alone, Fedwyn. Go amuse yourself at someone else’s expense.”

As my lady wishes.

And he was gone.

For one night, she slept peacefully.

[Yva]

He found her first.

She was in a dense wood, flowers and trees blossoming everywhere. She was armored, with a sword resting on her belt. He stalked her from the shadows, his feline form hovering low to the ground. His tail lashed to and fro. He sniffed the air, closing his eyes as he caught the first scent of her fears, lingering behind the pretty facade.

“Threnody Al’Cair, no Bittertongue,” he said, jumping onto a tree stump and then onto a low hanging branch. His eyes were enormous golden orbs in a too black face. Even panthers had a gray sheen to them - there was something other than flat black in the hues of their coats - but not this cat. This cat had no gloss, no sheen, only a dull shadow of a body.

She lifted her face towards the trees, her hand instinctually moving to her hip where there should have been a weapon, but there was nothing. She looked down at herself, surprised to discover a plain pink gown where there had been mail and plate just a moment before.

The cat lifted a massive paw to his face.

“So much life here. Trees blooming, flowers growing. Birds chirping. Why . . . “ He stopped, swiping at the air at a passing bluebird. The creature squawked as his claw raked its back, splitting the fragile feathers and skin. It dangled from his paw, twitching and bloody, and he purred as he threw it onto the ground, watching it stagger as it tried to fly away. Threnn leaned towards it, her hands cupped as if to pick it up, and the cat lunged, landing on top of it. There was a wet splat and a crack as he crushed it beneath his foot.

“Who are you? Go away,” she said, peering at the forest floor for something she could use as a weapon.

The cat sat down, licking the remains of the bluebird from his pads.

“Life. You long for it too, don’t you.”

She stopped short, blinking at him.

“So much death just trying to bring a baby into this world. So much difficulty doing something an ape can do successfully.”

Threnn’s hand instinctually went to her middle, to the flat of her stomach. His purrs intensified and he watched her gut expand. It was slow at first, the swell just a small bump, but she yelped as it grew bigger, more noticeable.

“Pregnancy, a woman’s gift and a woman’s burden.”

“Knock it off,” she growled, her shoulders starting to shake.

“Oh, I don’t think so. Let’s play this through shall we?”

Her stomach popped into a large mound of flesh. She’d gone from a tall, slender reed to a woman ripe with baby. Her breasts grew bigger, her legs heavy and weighted with water.

“Feel it Threnody? Feel it moving?”

Her fingers twitched as something in her gut moved, rolling over inside of her, and she ripped her hand away, shaking her head. “This can’t be real.”

“Oh, but it could,” Fedwyn said. “Your child. Your husband’s child. It could all be yours.”

He meowed, slow and low, and she felt a pain in her stomach. The scrambled life inside of her stopped moving, and she gagged, a wave of nausea rippling through her.

“You could heal yourself, or the baby before it’s too late. Oh wait, no you can’t. How’s the light treating you, Paladin? It’s cold in the darker places, isn’t it?” There was a snarl as he stalked her, and in the background through her pain, she could hear the windchimes of the naaru.

“It’s just a dream,” she stated, her voice cracking as another pain wracked her body. “It’s just a dream, and you’re just a bully.”

“Bleed for me,” was all he said, and she felt the first rush pour down her thighs. She looked down at herself, at the pink gown now clinging to her legs, the fabric weighted and sticky with rusty blood.

There was laughter in his purrs as her knees buckled.

“Bleed for me, and kill your child.”

*****

She clawed her way to wakefulness, straining for the Light, reaching for it over and over even after she found herself safe in bed. She stifled a sob when it didn't come. Bricu slept on beside her, unaware of her distress, his mouth set in a grim line. It was just a nightmare. Leave him alone.

Threnn sat up and drew her knees up to her chest, aware of her own body in a way she hadn't been for a long time. It had felt so real - the flatness of her stomach seemed wrong, somehow. She felt a sudden, dull pain, low and deep in her belly, and panic rose once more.

Bleed for me, and kill your child.

But no, she knew this pain. It was old and familiar, and if she counted the days it would be right on time. I'm on the tea. It's nothing but my courses. It was just a dream. It was - She staggered out of bed, pulling a silk robe off the back of a chair and shrugging it on over her shift. Fear propelled her down the hall to the Rose's washroom. She fell to her knees as the door clicked shut behind her, hands shaking as she unbelted the robe.

The blood on her fingers was dark, accusing. Her resolve broke; Threnn crumpled to the floor and wept.

[Sunshine]

((Threnny Bittertongue needs to choke a bitch. So much awesome, Yva, SO effing creepy.))

[Yva]

The man sat on a high backed throne, his boot propped against the footrest. His plate was black, the runes etched into his armor a harsh crimson in the flickering torchlight. It smelled of old meat and must in the basement, and he frowned, squinting his eyes against the blackness clutching at the room.

There was a murmur as the two things beside him reached for him, their half rotten faces rubbing pus and ooze on his gauntlets. He pulled the gloves off, tossing them onto the stone floor. His pets grabbed for his wrists, claws digging into his skin as they pulled his hands to their mouths. He barely winced when they dug canines into his flesh, their moldy lips making loud slurping noises as they nursed on the blood from his body, moaning and sighing with every suck. The one to his right ran her blue tongue in between his fingers, sucking the entire digit into her mouth, and he jerked his hand away, bapping her on the nose.

"Oi. No bitin' love."

A shambling, cloaked man walked into the room, his gnarled hands clutching a tall stave. He bowed low, his spine crackling with the movement. Around his feet, a small black housecat swirled, purring as it marked its master's leg with its scent. "He's here, m'lord."

"Right, Squire." He shook the two forsaken off, grunting as one of them wound around his legs, running her skeletal cheekbone against his thigh. He shoved her away, stepping over her prone form to retrieve his gauntlet, cramming his blood smeared hands inside.

The cloaked figure handed him a scroll, tapping the wax seal with the tip of his bony finger. "The newest batch is ready. We have the last of it in D. C's been cleaned out, though the results were less than satisfactory."

"Don't have room for failure, mate." He brushed past him, grunting as the cat darted through his legs, scampering up the poorly lit hallway. It paused outside of Section D, purring and licking its paw. He waited for the cloaked man to shove the door wide, showing off a long line of prison cells, each cage occupied by a too-gaunt figure.

They approached the nearest prisoner. A fair haired girl sat in a chair, staring at the wall. Boils covered her skin from jaw line to ear, each one seeping a thick sludge that drizzled down her neck. Her skin was half peeled from her fingers, and her lips silently moved as she peeled chunks of her own flesh away, ignoring the blood matting her skirts.

The cat stood on tiptoe, attempting to sink its claws into his knee, but he kicked it, watching it skitter across the room. It hissed at him, backing into the shadows, its golden eyes unnaturally bright against the black recesses.

"Needs ta work in two days." He pulled a rolled cigarette from the pouch at his waist.

"This one gestates at four, my lord."

"Two days. S'how long it'll take the Stormwind blokes ta get ta Redridge. Any longer than that, we've blown it."

The servant bowed low. "It will be done."

"As Arthas wills it, it sure'n hell will."

[Yva]

((a quiet bump, as it pertains to things coming))