Bwahaha, you know, I just read a hilariously bad Naruto/WoW crossover (yes, really) where the author seemed to be confused about why nobody of other races seemed willing to have kids with the Forsaken.
Anyway thanks. And don’t worry, Sarah and Dor’ash ain’t ever going to get romantically involved. It’s a sister and brother relationship and so it will remain. Although he sometimes sees her as a daughter instead.
And if I may say so, I freakin’ love this part.
He thought he heard an echoing snarl, and Sarah collapsed on the ground. The black chains around her rushed backwards, flowing into the back of her head. He would have been so much more relived if they had shattered, but it was too much to hope for. And then, perhaps she would have died, anyway. That damning power was what kept her animated.
The end of the last chain disappeared, and her hands twitched.
Nobody else moved as she pushed herself to her knees, then further to her feet. The wind hollowly wailed from the entrance, and Sarah’s bones scraped the ground as she worked her way up. Slowly she straightened, lifting her unmoving face towards Dor’ash. He hardly dared to breathe. The chains were gone, but…
Her hand rose up, perching against the leather covering his chest. All the while, she gazed up at him, smiling faintly.
“You know,” she said, “I’d claw your eyes out for being an asshole, if it wasn’t for the fact that I truly love you right now.”
“Keep a distance, if you please,” Dor’ash replied, turning only slightly and gazing at her sideways. He grinned wide despite the words, however, and saw no reason to cease doing so.
“My commends,” the swordsman spoke up, and he actually did smile a bit. Glancing around, Dor’ash found with some surprise that the same expression were on the other Forsaken’s faces too, with no trace of the usual shades of cold, cruelty and lack of empathy. He wondered if he could even begin to understand what it meant to them, since this touched them so deeply.
It faded quickly from the swordsman’s face, however, and all traces of it were gone as he spoke again.
“But, does he leave it at that?” he asked, and the air itself seemed to stiffen as the Forsaken all turned grim.
Sarah froze, her fingertips drawing four lines in Dor’ash’s chest armor as her hand drew into a fist. He didn’t care, watching her with a frown taking over his features. That far, he had not thought – but yes, the Lich King supposedly held the minds of all his servants, didn’t he?
With a twitchy motion Sarah turned away from Dor’ash, and nodded.
“Something’s coming.” She scratched her chest, gazing towards the gaping hole leading into the snow storm. “He touched me. He knows we’re here. What a pain.”
Though her tone sounded composed, Dor’ash had never seen her scratch herself before. Violently, too. She ceased when he brushed a finger against her shoulder, but what remained of her eyebrows hung low.
“Scourge?” he asked, grimly.
“I don’t know what. I don’t know how many.” She shook her head, under the intense gaze of everyone in the cave, although the draenei didn’t understand. “But he said something would come and find me.”
“Fantastic,” the swordsman said, chuckling throatily. “And I thought we’d only get to kill a few ogres and one or another Syndicate member up here.”
Before he saw the other Forsaken crack up in grins, Dor’ash had thought that the leader was being sarcastic when he said the first word. But now the man turned towards the cave entrance, fingering his sword thoughtfully.
“I wonder, almost anything can crawl up from the Plaguelands but it would have to be something nearby,” he said, mostly to himself. “Something that is quick but could fend off the inhabitants here. Something that could carry whatever else it kills along the way. He probably scrounged up even more when he felt us find her. Now it’s not just one measly Forsaken he could catch.”
“And what are you planning to do about it?” Dor’ash asked. Part of him wanted to put a protective hand on Sarah’s shoulder. The rest of him knew that she would not appreciate that at all.
“This is a good place. We could hold it.” The swordsman’s grin was about as crazy as Sarah’s rambling from before. “You don’t expect us to run away or anything, or do you? From the Scourge?”
“We don’t know what it is,” Dor’ash pointed out, but he had no plans on trying to escape, either. He knew an unforgiving snow storm when he saw one, and they had no idea from where the enemies were approaching. This cave would at least be, as the Forsaken said, defendable.
“What does it matter?” the swordsman said. “If there is Scourge hunting here, we will deal with it.”
Might Sarah be able to open a portal to flee through, if need be? Dor’ash studied her, and wondered if she herself knew whether she had the strength. However, she kept her gaze aimed at the entrance, face set in determination.
Another thought struck, of something – some people – that the shaman had to admit he had momentarily forgotten all about.
“And what about the draenei?” he said, straightening up.
“Hmm?” The swordsman turned around and looked at the hoofed men and woman, who bristled under his and the others’ eyes.
The Forsaken exchanged glances. Finally, the leader shook his head.
“Too much of a bother to try killing them now,” he said. “We can’t waste our energy. Let’s save them for later.”
“That’s not what I-!” Dor’ash started.
“Tell them to behave, will you? I don’t think they’ll listen to us.”
With that, the Forsaken headed towards the exit to make their plans of defense. Only Sarah lingered where she was. Sighing, Dor’ash turned to the draenei and walked towards them. Without a word Sarah followed him, staying close for each step he took. When he stopped, she turned towards where her people had gone, but didn’t move away.
“What’s going on?” Coran demanded.
“She broke free of the Lich King’s attempts to snare her, but something is coming,” Dor’ash said, motioning at Sarah and the outside world respectively. “We don’t know what. Whatever it is, it wants to kill us all and they want to kill it so much that they don’t care about you right now.”
Sarah turned around while he spoke, looking between him and them. Glancing down, he saw her raise an eyebrow at him, but it was brief and she didn’t ask anything. The eyebrow sunk back, and she glanced towards the other Forsaken, at the exit. Then she looked away again, staring at the floor.
“Something like what?” Subonai demanded, eyes thin as needles as he glared between Dor’ash and the undead blocking the only escape route.
“Scourge,” Dor’ash said, not even feeling like adding a sour “what else.” Before, the vindicator’s unyielding aggressive stance had annoyed him, but now it was definitely justified.
“They don’t care about killing us now, but what of later?” Valenia asked. Her arms were folded tightly to her chest, dainty claws buried in the folds of her elbows.
They all spoke in low voices, realizing it might get even more problematic if the Forsaken heard them.
“I know you would not want to trust me,” Dor’ash said, looking between them as he scowled with determination, “but I will not stand by and let them kill you, I swear that.”
His gaze wandered back to Malo at the end. Slowly, the other shaman nodded. The other three looked to him, hesitance apparent in their eyes.
“I would trust you,” Malo said, and then Coran nodded the slightest bit, if stiffly. Looking past Dor’ash, the draenei shaman frowned. “But you are worried about them, I can tell.”
“I don’t expect them to value honor, no.” Dor’ash could not deny that, and he would not lie to give them false hope. He turned to the hunching woman at his side. “Sarah, can you do anything here?”
She stiffened, looking up at him with clenched teeth.
“I can’t turn all of them to sheep,” she said in Common, like him, and tried to force a smile. The failed joke only made her look even more uneasy.
“No, you used that trick on a warlock already,” he agreed. It was a just as weak joke, to recall the last time she had fought other Forsaken – her own kin, even. Clearing his throat, he looked at her more seriously. “But could you reason with them?”
“I don’t know, I- they-”
She fell silent, started to speak again and cut herself off again, looking away. Finally she clenched her fists and looked up, facing his concerned scowl. When she spoke again, she switched languages.
“I’ve brought you nothing but trouble lately, haven’t I?” she said, shaking her head.
Dor’ash watched her for a moment, eyebrows raised.
“How so?” He fell into Orcish, like her, forgetting that the draenei wouldn’t understand what was said.
“I got captured in Azshara, then I went nuts in Ratchet, and now this too.” She said so in a dull tone, where she should have been impatient.
Something was odd. Dor’ash narrowed his eyes, watching her stiff posture. Still, when he spoke he tried to sound at ease.
“Nonsense. I’m the one leading you on.”
“Well, yes. Fool.”
She turned her head again, glancing at the exit briefly before looking the other way with a twitch of her neck.
“Besides,” Dor’ash said, voice calm though his gaze never left her for a second, seeking any clue in her expression, “I’m the one who got captured this time, and you showed up with allies.”
For a moment a weak sneer flashed over her lips, but it faded almost immediately.
“Mm,” she mumbled, sounding distracted.
“Sarah.”
“Mh?” She looked up at him.
Watching her seriously, Dor’ash lowered his voice even more.
“I mean it, I don’t want the draenei to get killed by them,” he said, nodding towards the Forsaken.
“You’re such a sap.” She wet her lips, that human woman she had once been showing through again. Those little things popped up every now and again when she wasn’t thinking, but not as often now as they had when she just got her first wave of memories back. “Look, I’d love to reason with them for the sake of your new pets, but if I start acting weird they’ll think I’m being taken over again.”
As she spoke, she turned away and looked at the rotting people they spoke about.
“How do you know I’m fine, anyway?” she said, sounding distracted again.
No… not distracted, not exactly. Tense, and something else. Dor’ash studied her, jaw set tight.
“I saw a dark aura around you before,” he said, “it’s gone now.”
“It’s never gone, not really.” Her voice sunk. “He never shuts up. And now he’s angry at me.”
She stared towards the cave opening, where the other Forsaken stood like skeletal statues, waiting. One hand rose to her lips, and broken teeth bit down on bone.
“Are you feeling well, Sarah?” Dor’ash asked.
No reaction.
“Sarah,” he said, his voice deepening with his scowl.
“I’m… fine.” Yet she didn’t sound it, and a step backwards brought her so close her back brushed against Dor’ash’s armor. Without thinking he put a hand on her shoulder, narrowing his eyes at the gap of whirling snow before looking down at her small form.
He had never seen her like this.
“You’re scared, aren’t you?” he murmured.
Implausible as it was – she jumped as if stung, proving he was correct. Without a word he squeezed her shoulder tighter. Her face turned quickly between him and the Forsaken by the exit, then back again. Just checking to make sure that they were out of earshot and not looking. The draenei she ignored, safe in the knowledge that they probably didn’t understand the language.
“I had no idea,” she muttered in a tight whisper, shaking her head as she turned around to face him. “He came from inside of me and held me down and I couldn’t-”
She cut herself off, twisting her head in another direction. Still she didn’t move away, huddling close to him in a way she never, ever had before. Weeks ago in Drakamash Village, when she got her memory back and slumped against his chest after finally calming down, she’d still been herself. She had still been strong.
“Dor’ash,” she hissed, “Dor’ash, you have to kill me when it happens again.”
He shifted then, stepping between her and the exit before crouching down so that their eyes were at the same level.
“You have to focus,” he sternly said. “We’ll have our part to play too in this battle. Don’t slip on me now.”
“Dor’ash!” she snapped, hands slapping against his shoulders. He winced and she immediately released the pressure on the wounded arm, but didn’t move otherwise. Lowering her voice, she shook her head again. “Promise you won’t ever let him have me.”
“Sarah-” he started.
“It’s worse than anything, anything…” She stared at him, through the leather straps across her empty eyesockets. “What, do you have to hear it? You’re right, I’m scared.”
His expression didn’t change, but his good arm reached around her thin shoulders protectively.
“Don’t be,” he said.
From where they stood, the other Forsaken couldn’t see what was going on because Dor’ash’s massive bulk blocked the view. He was still startled when Sarah stepped closer again, burying her cold face in the curve of his neck like a frightened child. The fact that he still crouched was the only reason that she could reach.
“Allow me a moment,” she muttered, breathing cool air against his skin as she spoke. “You’ll never have to see the likes again.”
It wasn’t something he had been prepared for, but he just hummed and let her hide against him for a brief time. True that it was a moment of weakness on her part, but she certainly had good reason for her emotions. He wasn’t going to judge her because of it. Instead he shifted his grip of her to suit her forwards movement, holding her close.
The snow in her hair and robe melted against the warmth coming from his body, dripping down over his skin and armor.
Finally she straightened and glanced up at his face. Before he could say anything, however, Sarah turned her head to the side in a sharp motion.
“What are you looking at?” she snapped in Common, at the draenei.
“Huh…” Coran said, scratching his black hair.
He was the only one who said anything, vague as it were. Valenia just looked away and Subonai shook his head without a word. Silently, Malo met Dor’ash’s gaze and tilted his head to the side curiously.
“Dor’ash,” Sarah said.
“What is it?” he asked, looking back to her. He frowned, but it was without any trace of anger.
She looked calmer again, for what it was worth.
“I’m serious, Dor’ash,” she said, repeating his name again as if she believed that it alone would beseech him to listen to her. “Promise me I won’t be his slave again.”
For a moment, he just watched her, working his jaw.
“If there is absolutely no other way,” he finally said, gritting out the words. He felt compelled to spit after he had spoken, but controlled himself. There had to be another way, no matter what. There always had to be one.
She looked far too relieved when he studied her.
“Accepting you might die and expecting it are two different things,” he sternly said.
Sarah shook her head, glancing in the direction of the other Forsaken.
“It’s different for us,” she said. “If I was higher up in the Society they’d never even have gone to find you. I wouldn’t have let them, we can’t have the Lich King-”
She made a strange noise, fingers bending like claws and then freezing. Slowly, she looked up at Dor’ash’s face. His lips moved even slower than her head.
“What was that?” he asked.
“I’m… still not thinking straight…”
For a moment he just looked at her. Then, he let out a heavy sigh and let go of her to rub his forehead.
“Did you chose now to slip that little piece of information because I’m too distraught to get angry at you?” he asked.
“No, I- hm.” Sarah’s shoulders sagged. Though she would fry anyone saying so, she was really good at looking miserable when she was in that kind of mood. Most Forsaken were, when it got down to it. And you’d better not tell a single one of them that. “After we survive,” she said, glancing up again, “I’ll tell you about it, alright? For now, let’s just say I didn’t get a choice. Patrick liked to arrange things.”
That final sentence instantly ripped off a huge chunk of Dor’ash’s tension. Sarah fidgeted as she looked up at him, but raised her eyebrows when he snorted and half smiled.
“That explanation is all I need,” he said.
Action! New alliances formed! A silly Blizzardesque pop culture reference! HUGE UNDEAD FRIGGIN’ SPIDERS!
It was Coran who held Dor’ash back, for example.
WHAT WERE THEY THINKING?! Truth be told, I don’t bother much with fanfics these days. Sure, I have a couple that have been in the making since before the dinosaurs… Kinda depressing when you think about it. I’ll have to finish a story before the end of this year. I keep starting stuff and then I get a bad case of writer’s block even though the general outline and conclusion are already in my head… But in the meantime, I’ve got a couple of authors on my radar, and I stick to them because I know they’re good. Which reminds me, I really should check the stuff you have there on 
and write snarky critiques. Which occasionally garners author tantrums.