Ashagga
09-21-2006, 07:38 PM
Killashandra glanced nervously about as she entered what was left of the once verdant forest outside Quel'Thalas. Her hand rested on the hilt of the slender elven blade she wore at her hip. Her keen eyes darted to and fro. She knew she should not be here; it was dangerous. Her fingers brushed the amulet bearing the symbol of the Light at her throat.
A shadow moved, and her blade was in her hand. Daemortus stepped from behind a tree, fixing her with a cold stare. She froze, pinned by the power of his gaze, helpless as a mouse before a cobra. He stepped forward, and her heart leapt into her throat.
When his lips closed on hers, her eyes closed and her sword fell from her fingers. She melted into his arms as they enfolded her, and she knew, in her heart, that everything would be all right.
He broke the kiss, and she whimpered. "Shandra, melamin, is everything ready?"
"Yes, my lord." Her heart thrilled. He insisted that she call him her lord. "Tomorrow, I will be given the Rites of Purification. After that, there will be but a month or two of final training, and I will be a full paladin. I will be able to journey into Azeroth and make my fortune."
"And we can be together." His fingers gently tangled in her lovely golden tresses. "Damn your order for forbidding our love. Damn them for forbidding me anything!" Before she could protest, his lips were on hers again, claiming them harshly, as if to prove that she was his no matter her order's decree. She felt herself flushing, responding, surrendering to his kiss.
A hideous yipping, barking cackle shattered the still of the afternoon, and she pulled away to peer over her paramour's shoulder. Daemortus' lips curled in frustration, and he glared at her for a moment before looking behind him, noting the presence of his imp slave.
"Dae... send it away." She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Why must you consort with such things?"
Daemortus kissed her lips. "It cannot hurt you." She buried her head in his chest. "You know as well as I that the Burning Legion is the greatest threat to Azeroth. The fools in the Alliance believe as does your Order, that using them and studying them is too dangerous. You, however, understand. To defeat them, we must use them."
Killashandra nodded, but continued to hide her face. Daemortus rolled his eyes. "You should return anyway. They will notice your absence, and you must cleanse yourself for the ritual."
She pulled back, nodding again, but Daemortus twisted her hair, hauling her head back. She gasped and clutched at him for support, her knees weakening.
"Never forget, you are mine, Shandra, not theirs. No matter what rites, what rituals, you are mine."
"I... I am yours, my lord. Always." Daemortus released her with a smile, and she flushed deeply. With a bow, she turned and scampered back to the towers of Quel'Thalas.
The imp skipped gleefully up beside its master, looking after the departing blood elf. "Is it wise to use her so? She is a paladin, or soon will be."
"She is mine before she is theirs." Daemortus glared down at the imp.
"But is it worth it?"
Daemortus let his eyes follow the path she had taken. "Prince Arthas was the greatest warrior your masters ever knew. His name will never be forgotten. The Lady Killashandra is the pride of the elven court, a gem, and her father's pride and joy. She is the crown jewel of our empire, such as it is. She will be more than Arthas ever was, except that she will not be beholden to your masters, but bound by chains of love to me. You will not need fear her betrayal."
"We need fear only yours." The imp looked up at Daemortus, as the blood elf slowly smiled.
A shadow moved, and her blade was in her hand. Daemortus stepped from behind a tree, fixing her with a cold stare. She froze, pinned by the power of his gaze, helpless as a mouse before a cobra. He stepped forward, and her heart leapt into her throat.
When his lips closed on hers, her eyes closed and her sword fell from her fingers. She melted into his arms as they enfolded her, and she knew, in her heart, that everything would be all right.
He broke the kiss, and she whimpered. "Shandra, melamin, is everything ready?"
"Yes, my lord." Her heart thrilled. He insisted that she call him her lord. "Tomorrow, I will be given the Rites of Purification. After that, there will be but a month or two of final training, and I will be a full paladin. I will be able to journey into Azeroth and make my fortune."
"And we can be together." His fingers gently tangled in her lovely golden tresses. "Damn your order for forbidding our love. Damn them for forbidding me anything!" Before she could protest, his lips were on hers again, claiming them harshly, as if to prove that she was his no matter her order's decree. She felt herself flushing, responding, surrendering to his kiss.
A hideous yipping, barking cackle shattered the still of the afternoon, and she pulled away to peer over her paramour's shoulder. Daemortus' lips curled in frustration, and he glared at her for a moment before looking behind him, noting the presence of his imp slave.
"Dae... send it away." She looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Why must you consort with such things?"
Daemortus kissed her lips. "It cannot hurt you." She buried her head in his chest. "You know as well as I that the Burning Legion is the greatest threat to Azeroth. The fools in the Alliance believe as does your Order, that using them and studying them is too dangerous. You, however, understand. To defeat them, we must use them."
Killashandra nodded, but continued to hide her face. Daemortus rolled his eyes. "You should return anyway. They will notice your absence, and you must cleanse yourself for the ritual."
She pulled back, nodding again, but Daemortus twisted her hair, hauling her head back. She gasped and clutched at him for support, her knees weakening.
"Never forget, you are mine, Shandra, not theirs. No matter what rites, what rituals, you are mine."
"I... I am yours, my lord. Always." Daemortus released her with a smile, and she flushed deeply. With a bow, she turned and scampered back to the towers of Quel'Thalas.
The imp skipped gleefully up beside its master, looking after the departing blood elf. "Is it wise to use her so? She is a paladin, or soon will be."
"She is mine before she is theirs." Daemortus glared down at the imp.
"But is it worth it?"
Daemortus let his eyes follow the path she had taken. "Prince Arthas was the greatest warrior your masters ever knew. His name will never be forgotten. The Lady Killashandra is the pride of the elven court, a gem, and her father's pride and joy. She is the crown jewel of our empire, such as it is. She will be more than Arthas ever was, except that she will not be beholden to your masters, but bound by chains of love to me. You will not need fear her betrayal."
"We need fear only yours." The imp looked up at Daemortus, as the blood elf slowly smiled.