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Title: Leaving Andorhal
Author: Renata Lord (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
snowlight)
Pairing: Thassarian/Koltira (can be read as slash or gen)
Note: Post-Battle of Andorhal in Cataclysm.
Leaving Andorhal
(Thassarian/Koltira)
Andorhal has once again fallen. The Forsaken deathguards roam her charred lands, and the Val'kyr's ghastly wings carry the cries of blasphemies onto heaven.
But Andorhal is behind him now, a forbidding shadow lingering to the east. In front of him Tirisfal Glades looms, and Thassarian imagines he can see the ruins of that beloved city, Lordaeron.
When the sun first rose this morning, Thassarian had expected to die. Oh yes, he would have fought Koltira until the bitter end, but for all the possible combat scenarios which he ran through his mind, they invariably ended with Byfrost plunging into his chest, colder and swifter than death itself.
To die by Koltira's hand and losing Andorhal. That didn't appear to be so terrible a fate. He trusted Koltira to show mercy in victory to the Alliance soldiers, though he could not pinpoint the source of this belief. As for himself, Thassarian's long-dead heart somehow leapt for joy when Koltira promised that his runeblade would not be slowed by their bond. It was exactly what the human wanted to hear.
He'd had nightmares about killing Koltira.
When the sun first rose this morning, Thassarian had expected to die for his honor. He was at peace with the thought of being buried by the one he called brother, beneath the ashes of what once was Andorhal.
Yet now, as the sun sinks before him, Thassarian rides into the vanishing light, into the realm of the most cursed of all queens.
He will live. For Koltira Deathweaver.
*
End
Author: Renata Lord (
snowlight)Pairing: Thassarian/Koltira (can be read as slash or gen)
Note: Post-Battle of Andorhal in Cataclysm.
Leaving Andorhal
(Thassarian/Koltira)
Andorhal has once again fallen. The Forsaken deathguards roam her charred lands, and the Val'kyr's ghastly wings carry the cries of blasphemies onto heaven.
But Andorhal is behind him now, a forbidding shadow lingering to the east. In front of him Tirisfal Glades looms, and Thassarian imagines he can see the ruins of that beloved city, Lordaeron.
When the sun first rose this morning, Thassarian had expected to die. Oh yes, he would have fought Koltira until the bitter end, but for all the possible combat scenarios which he ran through his mind, they invariably ended with Byfrost plunging into his chest, colder and swifter than death itself.
To die by Koltira's hand and losing Andorhal. That didn't appear to be so terrible a fate. He trusted Koltira to show mercy in victory to the Alliance soldiers, though he could not pinpoint the source of this belief. As for himself, Thassarian's long-dead heart somehow leapt for joy when Koltira promised that his runeblade would not be slowed by their bond. It was exactly what the human wanted to hear.
He'd had nightmares about killing Koltira.
When the sun first rose this morning, Thassarian had expected to die for his honor. He was at peace with the thought of being buried by the one he called brother, beneath the ashes of what once was Andorhal.
Yet now, as the sun sinks before him, Thassarian rides into the vanishing light, into the realm of the most cursed of all queens.
He will live. For Koltira Deathweaver.
*
End
