Fanfiction: World of Warcraft (R)

[jestana]

Title: Lifetime of Memories
Pairing/Characters: King Genn Greymane, Lorna Crowley, Prince Liam Greymane, Lord Darius Crowley, Queen Mia Greymane, Sister Almyra, Myriam Spellwalker, Koltira Deathweaver, Ivar Bloodfang, shit-ton of OC's; Liam/Lorna, Genn/Mia, Genn/Darius
Rating: R for risqué
Fandom: World of Warcraft
Word Count: 18,519
Spoilers: About Gilneans, so if you can't create worgens, this won't make much sense.
Summary: Darius is badly hurt and Genn goes to great lengths to ensure he survives
Notes/Warnings: A sequel to my other WoW fics, Ray of Happiness and Back to Life, basically looking at the history of Genn and Darius' relationship. My information is not only drawn from the game, but also from the short story Genn Greymane: Lord of His Pack by James Waugh (found on the official website), Wowpedia, and WowWiki. Some of the flashback scenes rely on dialogue and information from the worgen starting zone. Any characters you don't recognise as NPCs are either mine or a friend's (used with permission). If you're not a fan of slash pairings, stop reading now. Beta by unicorn_catcher and umbralillium.


Lifetime of Memories
Part One
Genn didn't even look up from the papers he was reading through in the study he'd been given at Stormwind Keep when someone knocked on the door. "Come!"

"Forgive the intrusion, your Majesty," the voice that followed the sound of the door opening was one he only vaguely recognised.

He looked up then, frowning at the young woman before him. On the small, slender side with blond hair and brown eyes, she wore the robes of a mage, a staff in one hand. "Avalonea, right?"

"Yes, Sire." She blushed a little under his scrutiny. "Sister Almyra respectfully requests your presence in the Infirmary."

Genn's frown deepened and he got to his feet. "Why? Has something happened?"

"Lord Crowley is seriously injured," she explained and he could see that she was fighting to maintain enough control not to change forms. "The healers are doing everything they can for him, but--"

Moving away from the desk, he retrieved his cloak and sword from where they waited, putting them on. Turning back to the mage, he told her, "Take me to him."

"Yes, your Majesty." Curtseying, she turned and led him through the halls of Stormwind Keep to the Infirmary.

Without hesitation, Avalonea led him through the largely-deserted ward to a private room. Two worgen warriors stood on either side of the door, both armed and watchful. One he recognised from the pale grey fur and muscular build as Maniel. The other, with her pure black fur and Amazon-like build, was Atheniana. Both came to attention and saluted when they saw the king. He returned the salute and moved past them into the room. Regine and Sister Almyra were on either side of the lord, who lay still and silent on the bed, bent over him with focused expressions on their faces. Before he could say or do anything, he heard racing feet out in the hall and Myriam Spellwalker's voice, "Your Highness! Wait!"

"My father's injured!" Lorna Greymane retorted, her voice sounding almost frantic. "I have to see him!" Genn was ready when the young woman burst into the room, catching her before she could disturb the healers. "Let me go!"

He held his daughter-in-law firmly, ignoring her efforts to pull herself free. "Calm down, Lorna. You won't do your father any good if you disturb the healers while they're trying to do their job."

"Oh! Father Genn!" She stopped struggling with a blush, much to the king's inner amusement. Lorna Greymane (formerly Crowley) was not the sort of woman to blush easily. "I'm sorry."

Smiling sadly as he gently released her, Genn looked back at the doorway as his son appeared with a red-headed girl in his arms and a black-haired boy trailing behind him. Returning his attention to Lorna, he told her, "Don't apologise for being worried about your father."

"What exactly happened to Uncle Darius?" Liam asked, glowing eyes concerned as they followed his wife over to the bed, where she stood staring at her father's still form.

The little boy looked solemn as he walked over to Genn and asked, "Gumpagenn, why is Gumpadar in bed? Is he taking a nap?"

"No, Alex." Genn knelt and scooped his grandson into his arms, comforted when the little boy leaned into him trustingly. "He was hurt while fighting the bad men and Sister Almyra and Regine are trying to help him."

Grey-green eyes wide, Alexander asked, "Oh, you mean like when I fell and hurted my knee and Mommy kissed it better?"

"Worse than that, Alex," Liam answered the question for his father because Genn was trying hard not to laugh at the absurd question asked so solemnly. "A kiss from Mommy won't make Gumpadar better."

Redheaded Gehenna tugged on her father's cloak to get his attention. "What about a kiss from Gumpagenn? Would that make Gumpadar better?"

"Why would Gumpagenn's kiss work when Mommy's wouldn't?" Alexander asked, twisting around in his grandfather's arms so he could frown at his twin.

Gehenna rolled her blue-green eyes at her brother. "Cause he's the king and Mommy's a princess, of course."

"That's not quite how it works, Gehnnie," Liam told his daughter, a smile tugging at his lips.

Looking around the room, Genn could see that his son wasn't the only one struggling to hold back his laughter. In spite of their concentration on Darius, both Regine and Sister Almyra had twitching mouths and, from outside the room, Genn could hear Maniel and Atheniana both trying hard not to laugh. Lorna smiled as well, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It takes more than a kiss to make someone better."

"What's this about a kiss?" Darius' voice was weak, but steady.

Lorna immediately moved to sit beside the cot, relief obvious on her face. Almyra moved so as to make room for the princess, yet still continue her ministrations. "Father!"

"L'rna." Darius tried to reach for her, only to wince and gasp with pain. "H'rts."

Regine rested her hands on his arm, lines of strain appearing around her muzzle. "Don't move, Lord Crowley. Avalonea barely got you out of there in time."

The two mages had retreated to stand in a corner, to be out of the way yet still available should their services be required. Myriam's assistant blushed when everyone turned to her with surprise and admiration. "A Forsaken rogue got in a lucky hit and the other Forsaken were mobbing him. My only thought was to get him out of there and get help."

"T'nk you," Darius barely managed the words, his eye on the young mage. "Th'ght...done for. So many...of them."

Almyra leaned in, covering Regine's hands with her own. "Don't try to talk, Lord Crowley. Rest and give your body a chance to heal."

"Listen to the Healer, Father," Lorna added, holding his other hand in both of hers. "We can't afford to lose you."

Darius, however, shifted restlessly, trying and failing to get up. "M'men...all righ'?"

"They're fine, my Lord, but you are not." While Almyra spoke, Regine slid a hand under Darius' neck and did something that made him sigh and relax into sleep. The healers exchanged glances and nodded. Turning to the king, the priestess explained, "He's sedated now. Knowing him, it's the only way he'll rest properly."

"That's the way Father is," Lorna admitted with a smile, perching on the edge of the cot. The two healers moved away, both showing signs of exhaustion. "Stubborn to the end."

Liam moved to his wife's side, carefully shifting Gehenna into her arms. The little girl reached out to pat her grandfather's arm once she was settled in her mother's lap. "Don't die, Gumpadar."

"Silly Gehnnie," Alexander retorted as Genn set the squirming little boy on his feet. "Gumpadar won't die. No one can beat him."

Gehenna glared at her brother as he pulled himself up onto the cot and carefully picked his way over to the other side of Darius, steadied by Regine. "You heard him, Alex. He's hurt!"

"He's Gumpadar, though!" Alexander replied, settling down on Darius' other side. He offered no further explanation for his certainty, but, to his five-year-old mind, he probably didn't need to explain himself further.

None of them had the heart to try to tell the little boy that his grandfather wasn't as invincible as he apparently thought he was. While Darius slept, the others were shown to the rooms that were kept ready for exactly these sorts of emergencies. Genn lay down gladly in the rooms that had been his since he'd first arrived from Darnassus, but sleep eluded him. He was too worried about his old friend.

* * *
"The king will see you now, my Lord," the footman told Darius as the young man waited patiently for an audience with the king of Gilneas. He'd only recently inherited his title, his father having died just a few weeks before from an injury he'd sustained on a hunting trip.

Nodding, Darius rose and entered what he soon realised was a study, furnished sparsely, yet elegantly: a desk and chair, a settee by the fire, several bookcases, and a map table. All this the redhead noticed later. His attention was first arrested by the man standing before the desk. His clothes were elegant and fine, silver already threading through the red hair at the king's temples, green eyes calm as they studied the young lord before him. Feeling underdressed though he wore his very best clothes, Darius went to one knee before his king. "Your Majesty."

"Lord Darius Crowley," the king replied, his gaze turning sympathetic as he observed the young man before him. "You have Our condolences and sympathies for your loss."

Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Darius bowed his head. "I thank you, your Majesty. I'm not good with words, but I thank you."

"Words are all well and good," King Greymane replied, walking over to the window to look out over the court. "But they are meaningless unless you back them up with actions." He turned back to fix the young noble with a steady gaze. "I know you are here to renew your family's pledge of loyalty to the crown and I will accept that pledge, but what I will expect is that you will back up your pledge of loyalty with actions as befit the situations that will arise in the future. Do you understand, Lord Crowley?"

Darius nodded, trying to convey his sincerity without being disrespectful, "Yes, your Majesty. I have always found it easier to express myself through actions rather than words."

"Good. We understand each other, then." The king returned to where Darius had remained kneeling and drew his sword, holding the blade just below the hilt, the tip pointed towards the floor, the Greymane signet ring on his right index finger glinting in the light that filtered in from the window. "Do you, Lord Darius Crowley, swear to uphold your family's oath of loyalty and fealty to the Royal House of Greymane? Do you give your word that you will respond quickly and without delay when We call upon you for money, food, or troops?"

Though Darius had known the question was coming, it still took him a few moments to overcome his natural pride and independence enough to place his right hand over the king's on the sword, the signet ring cold against his palm, "I do so swear, your Majesty. Whatever is requested of the Noble House of Crowley, it will be done."

"Rise, Lord Crowley," King Greymane told him, a genial smile on his lips as he slid his sword back into its scabbard. He stood with relief. His one knee had always been stiff since a riding accident when he was a teenager. "Is there anything We can do for your family in your time of mourning?"

He couldn't help it: he stared at the king in surprise. He'd thought this would be about what his family would do for the royal family, not the other way around. "I can't say at this time, your Majesty. If I could have some time to think it over?"

"Of course, it's an open-ended offer, Lord Crowley," the older man told him, leading him from the room. "I trust you'll be at the banquet tonight? You'll be able to meet the other lords and, of course, the queen."

Darius nodded, still a little off-guard by the seeming sudden change in the king. "Yes, of course. I understood it to be mandatory."

"Well, not exactly mandatory, but it's strongly recommended that you attend," the king replied with a small laugh.

He nodded again. "If I may be excused, your Majesty?"

"Yes, of course, I will see you tonight." When Darius bowed, the king returned the gesture and stood watching as the noble withdrew.

Feeling decidedly off-balance and not sure why, Darius returned to the rooms he'd been given when he arrived at the palace. He found the drinks cabinet, poured himself a shot, and tossed it back gratefully. He's what I expected, yet not. How is that possible?

* * *
Genn did eventually sleep and, when he awoke, he found his wife seated at the small writing desk in the room, working away. "Mia? When did you get here?"

"Myriam brought Tess and I not long after you'd lain down," Mia replied as he shifted into a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard with a sigh. Setting her pen aside, Mia stood up and joined Genn, nestling against his side. "She told us that Darius had been injured, but Regine and Almyra had healed him."

He nodded, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, remembering a time when the grey hair had been black. "Darius woke up briefly, but he wouldn't stay still and rest, so Regine sedated him."

"That sounds like Darius." Mia chuckled, resting her head on his shoulder and a small, slender hand, wrinkled now with age, over his heart. "He doesn't know how to take things easy."

Genn covered Mia's hand with his, squeezing gently. "Being idle doesn't sit well with him. He prefers to be doing something."

"Lorna's the same way," she commented, fond exasperation evident in her voice. "You should have seen her just before the twins were born. She was constantly frustrated because she was too tired and lethargic to do everything she wanted to do."

He nodded, his thoughts going back to when their children had been young and everything had seemed simpler. Part of him wished things hadn't gotten so complicated, but he knew that was how life worked. It rarely stayed simple for long.

* * *
"Genn, look out!" Even as he shouted the warning, Darius sprinted for his king, knocking him out of the way just as the enraged stag attacked.

He cried out at the searing pain he felt not only in his shoulder and side, but also along his face. A deafening blunderbuss shot later, he barely saw that the stag was dead through the blood streaming down his face. "Darius!"

"Are you all right?" he asked, even as he felt the large, callused palms tilt his head up.

Genn sounded impatient as he answered, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he probed the wound. "I'm fine, but you need a Healer."

"It's just a scratch," he retorted with a wave of his uninjured arm.

He hissed with pain when the king probed the other wounds. "A gross understatement if I ever heard one."

"Really, Genn, it's not that bad." Darius tried to straighten up only to stumble as he started to feel light-headed and dizzy from the blood loss. "I--"

Genn cut him off by hoisting the younger man over his shoulders and setting off for their horses, tethered not too far away. "Why are you so damn stubborn?"

"It's just who I am," Darius retorted, part of him relieved that he didn't have to try to walk, but the independent side of him annoyed that he couldn't walk under his own power.

"And I wouldn't have you any other way, but there comes a time when you just have to give in gracefully," Genn told him, transferring the other redhead's almost-dead weight to his horse.

Darius didn't respond because he blacked out. When he woke up, he was blessedly horizontal in his bed at the royal hunting lodge. The pain in his face, shoulder, and side had dulled to mere aches and he could see the king seated in the chair by his bed, chin on his chest as he dozed. How long has he been there? Why has he been there? He must have other, much more important things to do... Sister Almyra entered the room just then, followed by a young woman Darius didn't recognise: tall, slender, and pale with black hair cut boyishly short and calm hazel eyes. The priestess smiled when she saw Darius awake. "How are you feeling, my Lord?"

"Like hell," Darius admitted, his voice raspy, as the two women moved to stand beside the bed on the side opposite from the king. The hazel eyes flicked nervously towards the sleeping man, but remained otherwise calm. "What happened?"

A black eyebrow arched at that as Almyra asked, "You don't remember the stag that gored you instead of the king?"

"Vaguely," he admitted, shifting restlessly and wincing when his side protested the movement.

The women perched on the edge of the bed when they saw the wince. Almyra rested a hand on his arm while the unfamiliar woman placed hers on his side. "Be careful, Lord Crowley, or you'll undo all of our hard work."

"Our?" he repeated in surprise. The glow around Almyra's hand was the familiar gold he associated with priests. The glow around the other woman's, however, was green and he'd only ever seen that when he saw Celestine working with Almyra.

The priestess nodded and he felt some of the pain easing. "Yes, mine and Regine's. You're lucky she lives nearby with her family. I couldn't have saved you and your arm without her help."

"What about my face?" Darius asked, lifting his good arm to carefully probe it. His fingers only encountered bandages.

Regine's voice was soft when she answered, her accent that of the country folk. "We couldn't save your eye, but we managed to keep the scarring to a minimum."

"Don't throw yourself in the way of a charging stag next time, Darius," the king inserted, his voice sleep-husky. "I can defend myself quite well."

After a moment of surprise, the two women rose, curtsied respectfully, and withdrew, leaving the king and noble to talk in private. "My apologies for wanting to save your life, your Majesty."

"You nearly lost yours in the process," Genn pointed out, an emotion in his eyes that Darius wasn't sure he could identify. "I don't want to lose your friendship. It's far too precious to me."

Darius stared at the king in surprise. He'd known that the other redhead sought him out specifically, but he hadn't considered that it was simply for his company. "Why is it so precious, Sire? There are plenty of other lords willing to be your friends."

"They all have ulterior motives," Genn pointed out, shifting from the chair to perch on the edge of Darius' bed, making it easier for him to look at the other man. "You have none. You're always completely honest with me and you've no idea how refreshing that is when I've dealt with nobles who hold back, who hide what they truly want."

He could only stare once more. As Genn said, he'd never had an ulterior motive for befriending the king. Darius had been grateful for the king's kindness after his father died and responded in kind when Queen Mia's second pregnancy proved more difficult than her first. He'd been the first to celebrate with the king when he announced that he had a daughter and the king had been the first to hear that Darius had a son. Finding his voice, Darius spoke quietly, "I hadn't realised how important my friendship had become to you, Genn, as yours is to me. It's why I pushed you out of the way. The thought of losing you, both as a friend and as my king, was painful to me."

"We'll try to keep each other out of danger, then." Genn smiled, finding Darius' hand among the bedclothes and holding it in both of his. "For the sake of our friendship."

Darius nodded, wondering why a tingle seemed to go through him when the king held his hand. "Yes, for the sake of our friendship."

* * *
The royal family had almost finished eating breakfast when Regine entered the room, her husband at her side. She curtsied when she reached the king's side. "Your Majesty, Lord Crowley is awake and asking for you."

"How is his health?" Genn asked, finishing his drink and wiping any lingering traces of it from his moustache. "Is he recovering from his injuries?"

Regine nodded, though there was worry in her eyes. "Slowly, Sire. We think there was more to that rogue's lucky hit than met the eye, so Sister Almyra is going to consult with some experts."

"Thank you for your honesty, Regine." Rising, he paused by her side long enough to rest a hand on her shoulder. He turned to Maniel and nodded to the warrior, who nodded back.

With that, he left the room and walked briskly to the infirmary. He acknowledged the signs of deference and respect he received from the people he passed in the corridor. When he entered the Infirmary, he was surprised to see Cassiope there, talking with the Stormwind Keep Healer. She turned when she saw him and bowed in the manner of her people. "King Greymane."

"Healer Cassiope. I didn't expect to see you here," he replied, acknowledging her bow with a nod of his head.

She smiled calmly, though he was sure the calm was a façade. "I heard that Lord Crowley was injured and have come to offer my services."

"We do have two of our own Healers attending to him, as well as Sister Sarah here," Genn pointed out, gesturing to the human priestess who curtsied.

The calm smile remained. "I was sent by Malfurion Stormrage, your Majesty. He feels that it would be prudent to have as many healers on hand as possible. I believe he has also requested that at least one shaman be made available as well."

"All for Darius?" Genn gazed at the Kaldorei in shock.

She nodded, hands folded together in front of her. "He is more important than anyone can guess at, Sire."

"Very well." Still a little stunned at the idea that his friend's injuries brought so much attention and concern, Genn went into the private room.

The lord was sitting up in bed, a tray with the remains of breakfast on his lap. The noble smiled when he saw Genn standing in the doorway. "Good morning, Genn."

"Good morning, Darius." Sitting down on the edge of the bed as Darius moved the tray to the bedside table, he drew his friend into a warm embrace, mindful of his injuries. Part of him smiled when he felt the noble's chin rest on his shoulder, wordlessly reaffirming his oath of loyalty to the king in a decidedly worgen gesture despite his human form. Pulling back, he gazed at his friend with mock-severity. "What did I tell you about putting yourself in danger?"

Rolling his eye, Darius reluctantly shifted so he could lie down once more, looking a little better after a moment. "It's a little difficult to avoid danger when I'm on the front lines."

"I know." Genn turned serious, adjusting the blanket so it covered Darius more completely. He'd feared for his friend's life so many times over the years. He'd managed to come back every time, but he knew that Darius' luck would eventually run out. Genn had seen the bite mark Maniel had made when he'd attacked the noble after turning unexpectedly. If not for the fact that Guinevera had been there, Darius would have been dead rather than worgen. "Perhaps it's time you didn't fight on the front lines anymore."

Darius stared at the king in surprise. He clearly hadn't expected that response! "Genn--"

"You have family who need you alive, Darius," he interrupted, biting back the addition that he didn't know what he'd do if he lost the noble now. "Lorna was nearly frantic when Myriam brought her yesterday. Gehnnie and Alex both wondered why 'Gumpadar' was in bed."

Grey eye shrewd, Darius asked quietly, "And you, Genn?"

"You know my feelings," he answered gruffly, uncomfortable when talking about anything remotely sentimental.

Lips curling in a faint smile, the noble told him, "Say it, Genn. Or show it if you can't say it."

"Damned cheeky bastard," Genn muttered. Glancing at the door to ensure no one was coming, he leaned down and kissed Darius softly.

Just as he was about to straighten up, a muscular arm stole around his neck and held him close as Darius deepened the kiss into something more, full of pent-up passion and longing. It would have gone on longer, except Gehenna's voice intruded, "Oh, goodie, maybe Gumpadar will get better now that Gumpagenn's kissed him!"

"He's supposed to kiss the spot where Gumpadar got hurted," Alex retorted as his grandfather sat up, giving Darius a chance to catch his breath.

Turning to the door, Genn saw with relief that only their families stood there. Mia had a gentle smile on her face while Liam, Lorna, and Tess all looked a little stunned. Gehenna and Alex seemed unconcerned by the sight of their grandfathers kissing. Mia was the first to speak, stepping over to stand beside her husband, dropping a kiss on the top of his grey head. "Good morning, Darius. It's good to see you awake enough to make romantic overtures."

"He's so tempting, Mia, how can I resist?" Darius responded with the crooked grin that he'd passed on to both of his children.

Lorna approached the bed next, taking her father's hand in both of hers. "Perhaps the fact that you're still recovering from your injuries should hold you back, Father?"

"We're talking about Uncle Darius here, Lorna," Tess retorted, joining her mother and father. "He'd already be trying to get up if Myriam and Avalonea hadn't spelled the bed to keep him in it while he's recovering unless he's being helped."

Darius made a frustrated sound as Liam and the children moved to join Lorna. "That's why I couldn't get up earlier except with Maniel's help!"

"It seems that was a wise precaution to make," Almyra commented from the doorway. "You're still very weak, Lord Crowley," she added when she had their attention. "It's taking all of mine and Regine's efforts to keep you from getting worse. Cassiope has been kind enough to offer her assistance and I understand two shamans are being asked to come as well. Perhaps their healing totems will help, since we cannot always be present."

The noble growled, sounding almost worgen and Genn quickly placed a hand over Darius', squeezing almost painfully. "Do not allow yourself to change, Darius. Not unless the Healers think it will help."

"What did that Forsaken bastard do to me?" Darius' voice was more of a growl, but the anger faded from his face and he relaxed under Genn's grip.

Regine shook her head as she and Cassiope peered over Almyra's shoulders. "We're not quite sure, Lord Crowley. It appears to be a combination of a spell and a poison. I've sent for my friend, Matrilla, who's a rogue, to see if she might have any insight."

"For now, please limit your visits to two people at a time," Almyra told the rest of them. "I don't want to risk taxing what reserves he still has with too many visitors at once."

The others nodded and Genn stood up. He looked down when Darius caught his hand. Holding Genn's gaze with his, Darius gave his hand a squeeze. Smiling and nodding, Genn returned the squeeze. Relief in his eye, Darius released Genn's hand and turned his attention to his daughter. As Genn left the room with his wife and daughter, he heard Darius ask, "Can you make the exception to the two at a time rule so I can visit with my grandchildren?"

"Of course, Lord Crowley." Almyra's voice was tender as she responded. Her own daughter, Amylthea, was a year older than the twins and the only reminder she had of her own husband, who'd died during the trip to Darnassus from Gilneas.

* * *
Darius approached the Royal Quarters with some trepidation. He'd yet to be invited here and he wondered at the significance of request. What do they want to discuss with me that it must be done in so private a setting? Reaching the door, he knocked and entered when the king's voice bade him to do so. Slipping inside, he saw the king and queen seated on the settee before the fire. Mia stood up when she saw him. "Good evening, Darius."

"Good evening, Mia," he replied, leaning down when she approached so she could kiss his cheek as had become customary between them.

She kissed his cheek, and then surprised him by hugging him. The queen had always seemed to hold herself in reserve with everyone except her family. Why had she changed toward him? Before he could comment, she was gone, leaving him alone with the king. "Won't you please join me, Darius?"

"Of course, Genn." Feeling a little off-balance, he joined his friend gladly in front of the fire.

Without a word, the king offered the noble a glass of brandy. Darius tossed it back gratefully, enjoying the way the alcohol burned its way down his throat and into his stomach. Once he'd set his empty glass on the table by the settee, Genn spoke, "Thank you for coming."

"Why am I here?" He couldn't resist asking the question that had been bothering him ever since the courier had arrived with the message requesting his presence. "This isn't a typical visit."

Genn nodded, an unfamiliar glint in his eyes. "You're right, it isn't. I have a proposition for you, Darius. One you may accept or reject without any fear of reprisal from me."

"I'm listening," Darius assured the older man, wondering why his heart rate sped up. It had to be a serious proposal for the king to include the addendum that he had.

He watched with surprise--and not a little amusement--as King Genn Greymane, who never seemed to be at a loss for words, struggled to articulate his proposition for the younger man. In the end, the king seemed to give up on articulation and, leaning in, kissed the noble. Though the kiss was light and chaste, it conveyed a wealth of emotions in that simple touch of lips against lips: love, tenderness, yearning, desire, lust, and hunger. When Genn pulled back, Darius was more than a little stunned. His voice gruffer than usual, the king asked, "Do you require further clarification?"

"Mia is all right with this?" He kept his hands tightly clasped in his lap to reign in the impulse to pull Genn into another, deeper kiss. He didn't want to reveal how much he wanted this, too.

The king smiled wryly. "It's her idea, to tell the truth. I'd told her when we married that I'm attracted to men as well as women and she's seen for herself how close we've become." Looking a little embarrassed, he added, "She also noticed that I've dreamt about taking you to my bed, but not done anything about it."

"You've dreamt about us?" Darius asked, surprised to realise that he wasn't the only who'd dreamt about being taken to the king's bed, there to be ravished until they fell into an exhausted and sated slumber. Trying to ignore the thrum of arousal in his veins, he asked, "Is this just for tonight--"

"For however long you wish it, Darius," Genn interrupted, the gleam in his eyes now discernable as a mix of love, lust, and longing. "As your king, I can order you to my bed, but I could never do that to you--to us. I want you there willingly."

Darius remained silent for several moments as he worked through it all in his head. Ever since the incident with the stag, his friendship with the king had steadily grown stronger. His feelings had deepened so gradually that he couldn't identify exactly when he'd become attracted to the older man. He knew only that he wanted to give himself completely to his king, to swear his loyalty and fealty far more intimately that was required. Now he was being given that chance and he was hesitating. Not given to elaborate speeches or flowery words, Darius answered in the best way he could think of: he leaned in and kissed Genn, more heated and hungry than the previous kiss had been.

Making a sound in the back of his throat, the older man wrapped his arms around the younger man and pulled him close, deepening the kiss even further. The redhead gave himself up to the kiss, part of him feeling as if he'd finally found the place where he belonged.

* * *
"Ivar Bloodfang requests an audience, your Majesty," a footman informed Genn later that afternoon.

Exchanging a glance with his son, who'd insisted on helping his father go through paperwork, the king told the footman, "Show him in, please."

"Yes, your Majesty." Bowing, the footman withdrew.

Liam was frowning, his glowing eyes narrowed. "I wonder what he wants. Remember what Uncle Darius said about him?"

"Yes, Liam, but everyone has the chance to change," Genn reminded his son. "Even stubborn old kings who used to never listen when wiser men tried to counsel them otherwise." A wry smile replaced the frown just as there was a knock on the door. "Come!"

The door opened to admit the Packleader of Silverpine. Unlike Genn and Liam, Ivar was still in his worgen form, which didn't surprise the king in the slightest. Most of the Silverpine worgens had never learned to switch forms or, if they did, they disdained to change simply to make the people around them more comfortable. Coming to a stop before the king's desk, Ivar bowed. "Your Majesty, I have come to offer the loyalty of my pack to the King of Gilneas."

"I thought you didn't care much for Gilneas, Packleader, after the Wall shut you and yours out of your homeland." Genn rose to his feet and, after a moment's consideration, he changed forms.

Beside him, Liam also rose and switched forms. Ivar remained quiet for several moments, contemplating the king and prince. "It is true that animosity towards Gilneas was strong after the Wall was built. We were cut off from our homeland, after all, left to be killed by the Scourge or the worgens, whichever would find us first." Liam growled deep in his chest, the sound made all the more chilling by the fact that he was a death knight. Genn reached over and clasped his son's shoulder, calming him. After a moment of surprise, Ivar continued, "Since the Cataclysm almost six years ago, my people have mingled with those who were trapped in Gilneas by the same Wall that shut us out and we have learned that it was almost as bad for them as it was for us, though in different ways." Daringly, he lifted his eyes to meet Genn's as he finished his speech. "We have all been harmed by the construction of that Wall and we no longer feel bitterness towards Gilneas for what we have suffered."

"What of your feelings towards Lord Darius Crowley?" Genn asked, remembering how much the Packleader's words had preyed on the lord's mind. "If I recall correctly, you called him a coward for surrendering to Sylvanas when she threatened his only daughter."

Ivar had the grace to look sheepish. "I spoke in anger, your Majesty, and have since married and had children of my own. I understand now why he gave in so quickly when Her Highness was threatened, especially when I heard that she had given birth."

"Would you be willing to work with him again, Packleader?" he almost demanded. "Not only fighting the Horde, but also as a member of the Council?"

The worgen appeared to be taken aback by the second part of the king's question. "A member of the Council? I don't understand."

"If I accept your oath of loyalty, as the Packleader, you would become a noble of Gilneas and a member of the Council."

After a few moments of stunned silence, Ivar spoke slowly, "I will need to reconsider, your Majesty. I had not realised how much more would be required of me."

"Naturally." He offered a genial smile. "I'm sure there is room enough for you to spend the night here at the Keep. Take all the time you need to consider, Packleader."

Ivar bowed. "Thank you, Sire."

With that, he withdrew. Once they could no longer hear the other worgen with their own keen hearing, Liam turned on his father. "You would seriously accept his oath of loyalty, Father?"

"Liam, Ivar has no reason to offer his loyalty to us," Genn reminded his son as he returned to his human form and sat back down. "His pack has supported itself quite well without our help. The only reason he could have for doing this is to show that he and his people no longer bear a grudge towards us, especially me, for building that wretched Wall."

The prince remained in his worgen form, leaning on the desk as anger blazed in his glowing eyes, "If he'd had his way, Lorna would have died and your grandchildren along with her."

"A fact which he now feels badly about," Genn reminded him, remaining calm in the face of his son's anger. "I told you that people change and it seems that Ivar and his pack have, to some extent. Enough that they would like to be considered true Gilneans once again."

Straightening up, Liam turned away, his back ramrod stiff under the tunic he wore. "Forgive me if I don't stay to continue helping you, Father. I need some time to myself."

Before Genn could respond, his son left the room. Shaking his head sadly, Genn returned to the paperwork. I hope you can forgive him, Liam. He'll be working with you if he's not working with Darius...

* * *
"Are you mad, Genn?" Darius exclaimed after staring at his king and lover in speechless shock for several moments. "A big bloody wall is your answer?"

The king's jaw set, eyes flashing with anger. "It's the only way to keep Gilneas safe from any future conflicts that may come."

"There's another way," the noble retorted, his own jaw clenching over how stubborn the older man was being. "Send the men and money the Alliance requests. They have no reserves left after these wars."

Genn shook his head, the red hair completely grey by now. "No, Darius. I'll not use my people's hard-earned money to keep those green-skinned monsters alive in internment camps."

"What about to help rebuild the other nations?" He balled his hands into fists, wondering how the man he'd admired and loved for so long could be so selfish. "How would you feel if it was Gilneas in need of help rebuilding?"

Straightening to his full height, maximising the few inches he had on the noble, the king told him, "Gilneas will never need help to rebuild. The Wall will be strong enough to keep her safe from any threat. I have the best engineers designing and building it. Gilneas will have no reason to fear the Horde."

"At least send a small contingent of men to help," Darius almost pleaded, thinking of all the innocents under his care in the lands that would be cut off from Gilneas by the Wall if it should actually be built. "To show that Gilneas isn't completely uncaring of the rest of the Alliance."

Waving a callused hand dismissively, Genn shook his head. "I've made my decision, Lord Crowley. The Wall is under construction as we speak."

"Very well, your Majesty." He withdrew into formality, stung by the king's refusal to listen to him, to understand that hiding from future conflicts wasn't the answer. "You give me no choice. I can no longer swear allegiance to a king who will not listen to reason. I bid you farewell."

He stalked from the room and hurried to the stables. He found his horse and mounted the pinto without bothering with even a halter. Darius galloped from Gilneas City to return to his home, already making plans for what he could do to try to change the king's mind. Underneath it all, he knew it was ultimately hopeless, but someone had to try to stand up to the king. Even if it meant the end of their long friendship and the end of any hopes that their children would wed.

* * *
The speed of Darius' recovery seemed to increase with the addition of the two shamans' healing totems, but not as much as Genn had hoped. Avalonea and Myriam had had the forethought to preserve a sample of the poison on the Forsaken rogue's blades. Matrilla, a small, petite woman with auburn hair and shuttered brown eyes, examined the poison carefully and even contacted her cousin, Regyna (also a rogue), to consult with her. In the end, neither had any real answers to offer: "It appears to be a typical poison any rogue would use, Sire. However, we know the Forsaken are very skilled at mixing alchemy and magic."

"Thank you for your time and effort, Matrilla," he told her, bidding her farewell with a sad smile. He'd heard somewhere that she'd fallen in love with a young paladin named Jorgensen, only to lose him to death. Their affair had been long enough for her to conceive and she now had a son named Leonello. He turned to the others in the room, wishing yet again that Krennan Aranas had not died in his sleep a year ago. The Royal Alchemist had been the one to discover the potion that would return a feral worgen's free will to them and would have hopefully been able to find a way to counteract whatever poison had been on that rogue's blade. "Any other thoughts or suggestions?"

"We could kidnap a Forsaken alchemist and force them to tell us what exactly is in that poison," Liam suggested, though his expression made it clear that he doubted his father would agree with the idea.

Genn shook his head, part of him tempted by the idea, but sense over-ruled expediency. "No, Liam. We would just be stooping to their level."

"I know someone who could help," Varian offered from where he stood to one side. He'd remained largely quiet throughout their efforts to save Darius, letting the Gilneans tend to one of their own without interference. "Koltira Deathweaver. He assisted the Forsaken long enough that he might know something of their arts."

Before his reunion with his son, Genn would have scoffed at the idea of a death knight helping them. Now, however, he knew better. "Do you think he can be trusted?"

"I don't know his full story, but he was being held prisoner by Sylvanas until Thassarian rescued him, so I believe he can be trusted, yes." Varian nodded, his face and voice calm.

Genn exchanged glances with the others, ending with Liam, who likely knew both death knights from his membership in the Knights of the Ebon Blade. After a moment, Liam slowly nodded. Turning back to the other king, Genn nodded. "Please put us in contact with him."

"As soon as possible," Varian agreed, bowing slightly.

* * *
"Lord Crowley!" Startled from his watchful stance, Darius stared at the young warrior running towards him from one of the stairways, blood already drying on one cheek and his sword showing signs of having been hastily wiped clean. "My name is Maniel. The king sent me to you to request the support of you and your men against these worgens."

Momentarily speechless, the noble looked at the other three men on the rooftop with him. He ended with his gaze on Sean Dempsey. Thinking out loud, he spoke slowly, "Whatever his reasons, Greymane's right. These beasts don't care what our political affiliations are. Gilneas needs to stand together."

"My lord, Dempsey can't be moved just yet," Vincent Hersham told him in an urgent voice. "I need just a few more minutes."

Nodding, Darius turned back to the young warrior. "One of those mangy fleabags got Dempsey real good. We cannot move him until we stabilize his bleeding. Give us a hand holding back these mongrels. A couple of minutes is all we need, brother!"

"I'll help Hersham, my Lord," a soft, feminine voice inserted just then. Spinning around, Darius stared at the familiar young druid who'd suddenly appeared beside Maniel, already kneeling next to the fallen man.

He broke into a smile at that, grateful to see her. "We'll be sure to keep those monsters away long enough for you to work, Regine. Ready, Maniel, Tobias?"

"Ready, my Lord." Tobias hefted the length of wood he'd been using as a weapon.

After a moment of staring at the druid, Maniel lifted his sword and dropped into a ready position beside the rebel noble. The next few minutes were a blur of fists, sword, and wood, punctuated by grunts from the three defenders and yelps and whines from the attacking worgens. Finally, during a lull in the attacks, Regine announced, "He's stable, my Lord. We can move him."

"Would you be willing to go with Hersham to help keep him stable while we escape?" Darius requested of her, remembering the part she'd played in saving his own life. She nodded, one hand resting on the unconscious man's neck. Turning to the warrior, Darius told him, "Listen, Maniel. For the first time since the civil war, I agree with Greymane. Now is the time to put aside our quarrel. It sure doesn't look like these beasts much care whether you're a rebel or a royal. Send word back to Greymane. My men will join his. There's a safehouse not far from here, in Josiah Avery's cellar. My lads stashed some heavy artillery there. Tell our king that my arsenals are now at his disposal."

Maniel saluted the noble and, after a last look at Regine, he headed back the way he'd come, sword in hand to fend off any other worgens who might attack him. Darius retreated with the others to the other staircase. "Are we really going to fight with the king, after all he's put us through for rebelling?"

"Yes, Tobias." Darius nodded, pausing as they fended off a lone worgen who attacked them. "Before the civil war, we were friends. I trust him to keep his word."

Hersham, still carrying Dempsey, shook his head. "You'll have to contend with that bastard, Godfrey, too. Word is that he's been the king's chief advisor since you rebelled."

"That'll be a small price to pay to defend Gilneas from these stinking worgens," Darius retorted, too busy fighting off one of those very worgens to notice the way Regine seemed to flinch as if his words had struck her.

They finally managed to get Hersham to where Sister Almyra and Celestine were tending to the wounded. Regine stayed with the man to explain what he needed to her mentor. Sister Almyra caught Darius before he could leave and insisted on examining him before finding something better for him to wear than the filthy and tattered clothes he'd been wearing. Fully dressed, he gave orders to his men before he sought out the king. He found father and son both seated on horses, discussing their options. "If we can make it past the gates into Duskhaven, we'll be safe. The eastern mountains are virtually impassable."

"We need to keep the worgen's attention in the city, Genn," Darius offered, turning with a smile when he saw Maniel arriving with his horse. Someone, probably Lorna, must have taken care of him while he was being held prisoner. She'd have known how much the horse meant to him. "It's the only shot we have for the survivors to make it to Duskhaven."

Not surprisingly, Liam volunteered almost eagerly, "I'll stay behind with the Royal Guard, Father. It's my duty to Gilneas."

"Not a chance, boy." Darius hated to shoot down the young man's offer, but he knew how dear the boy was to his father and he didn't want to risk Genn's attention being divided at a crucial moment. "Gilneas is going to need its king's undivided attention. Can't have your father wondering whether his child is alive or not." Turning back to the king and pretending he didn't see the worry and concern in the familiar gaze, he told him, "My men and I will hole up inside Light's Dawn Cathedral. I've already given the order and the cannons are on their way. Lead our people well, Genn."

He saw sadness and regret pass across the king's face before he spoke, "We were fools to take up arms against each other, Darius. The worgen would've never stood a chance."

"We all made mistakes, Genn," Darius replied sadly, taking the reins of his horse and swinging himself up into the saddle. He looked down at the warrior, who was looking uncertainly from one man to another. "You don't have to do this, Maniel. You've done more than enough already.
But if you decide to stay, I'd be a fool to turn you away."

His eyes bright and fierce, Maniel responded eagerly, "I'll do anything I can to protect our loved ones so they can escape to Duskhaven."

"My men have fortified their position inside the cathedral and are ready for what comes next," Darius told him, pleased that the young man wasn't afraid of danger, though it was almost to be expected of a warrior. "I'm about to head there and take as many of these flea-ridden devils with me as I can. You're welcome to come along for the ride."

Whooping, Maniel swung himself up onto the horse's back behind the noble. "Let's give those flea-infested bastards something to chase!"

Grinning a little at his eagerness, Darius offered a salute to father and son before turning his horse to head for the cathedral. He paused at the barricade. "Brace yourself. Here they come."

"You'll never catch us, you flea-bitten mongrels!" Maniel shouted, keeping one arm around Darius' waist to steady himself as he threw small firebombs at the worgens to attract their attention to them.

Ignoring the slashes of clawed hands against his booted feet and armoured legs, Darius guided his horse around to the front steps of the cathedral, where their guns waited for them. He shared an exhilarated grin with Maniel. "That was worth a little pain, wasn't it?"

"Men!" Regine huffed as she hurried over to them, resting a hand on each of them to heal the minor cuts they'd received. "Have to charge at everything head-on, don't you?"

The dismay on Maniel's face didn't escape Darius' notice. It seemed the warrior had developed an interest in the druid. "Why aren't you in Duskhaven, Regine?"

"You idiots holing up here need someone to heal you," she retorted, hazel eyes flashing. He was sure he caught a glimpse of worry in her gaze as it flickered over towards Maniel. Apparently the interest was mutual.

Stepping between the two in hopes of preventing an argument, Darius spoke up, "Very well. Please go into the cathedral and find a safe spot to cast your spells from, Regine." He turned to Maniel as she nodded and disappeared into the cathedral. "Stay out here and help man the cannons until we run out of ammunition or they break, whichever happens first."

"Yes, my Lord." Maniel saluted and stepped up to one of the unmanned cannons. After a moment of familiarising himself with it, he began blasting away at the worgens.

Darius paused beside Tobias Mistmantle, who was directing the efforts, "Keep an eye on Maniel, Tobias. He's a good man, but seems a little hot-headed."

"Yes, my Lord." The younger man nodded, his gaze concerned as he watched Maniel.

Shaking his head in bemusement, Darius went into the cathedral to wait with the others. He stationed himself near the front, listening as the booms of the cannons grew fewer and farther in between until they fell silent completely. The almost-tangible tension in the room heightened as the sound of humans and worgens fighting reached their ears. Finally, the first of the combatants almost tumbled into the room, scuffling. Several blunderbuss shots rang out and the worgen died. The man who'd been fighting the worgen pulled himself free of the body and stood up, swaying a little. Regine hurried forward with a cry: "Maniel!"

"I'm all right," Maniel protested, even as Tobias, who'd followed him inside with a second worgen, steadied him.

After a few moments' fussing, the warrior stopped swaying and pulled himself free of their hands to stand on his own. Satisfied that Maniel would survive, Regine turned to Tobias, checking him quickly. She was kept busy as more and more people fought their way into the room. Then they were all too busy fighting for their lives to worry about who was surviving and who wasn't. Darius forced himself to stay where he was, shooting at worgens when he saw one of his people faltering under an attack. Regine stayed near him, casting healing spells from a distance. The tide of worgens seemed never-ending. Every time one fell, another appeared to take its place. Darius' blood ran cold at the sound of a savage snarl directly beside him. Turning, a chill ran down his spine when he saw a silver-furred worgen standing where Regine had been, no madness in her eyes, only panic. She lifted her muzzle, an inhuman sound escaping her throat, "NOOOOOO!"

"Lord Crowley!" Maniel shoved the noble aside and brandished his sword at the worgen. "Stay away from him, you monster!"

Darius caught himself and lunged at the young man, trying to pull his sword arm down. "No, Maniel! That's Regine!"

"It can't be! How is it--" Maniel stopped short then, looking down at his arm, where Darius could see that he'd been bitten. The warrior looked back at Regine. "Were you bitten?"

The worgen nodded her head and gestured to her side. "Were you bitten, Maniel?"

"Yes, my Lord, when--" This time Maniel stopped short because his entire body seemed to go rigid, as if he was having a fit.

Darius watched with horrified fascination as the handsome young warrior's body bulged and stretched and grew into the familiar build of a worgen, broader, taller, and more muscular than the feral ones he'd seen. Howling, the former human leapt at Darius. He cried out when he felt sharp teeth sink into his neck and shoulder. Through a haze of pain, he heard Tobias yell, "Get off of him, you mongrel!"

"Don't hurt him, Tobias!" He tried to yell, but he was too stunned by the sudden attack to do more than whisper.

Even as he felt a druid's healing magic wash over him soothingly, he saw Regine leap at Tobias, long, sharp teeth bared. Rolling into a sitting position, Darius watched as more and more of his people turned into worgens and attacked those who hadn't. He fought back tears of despair as he barricaded himself behind the altar with Tobias and a few others who hadn't changed yet, trying to hold off not only the feral worgens they'd been fighting, but also their comrades-in-arms. "Is anyone here bitten?"

"I am, my Lord," Tobias admitted, gingerly touching his shoulder.

Looking at the others, he received nods accompanied by grim expressions. "It seems it won't be long before we join our brothers and sisters."

"I don't want to become a monster!" One of the women exclaimed, panic in her eyes as she rubbed her ankle.

Darius shook his head sadly. "It's too late now, Atheniana. You've been bitten. Our brothers and sisters out there are proof enough of what's going to happen to us."

"We're just going to sit here and wait, then?" Excalibus, another druid, demanded, one hand tightly clasped in Guinevera's, a third druid. If Darius remembered correctly, Excalibus had been running around in cat form, shredding as many of the feral worgens as he could with his teeth and claws, while Guinevera had been casting healing spells. "Just accept our fate?"

Pontius, a hunter holding his dog close, glared at the taller man. "What else can we do, Cali? We'll be shredded in less than a minute if we stir from here. At least we'd be alive!"

"But as what?" Excalibus shot back, brown eyes dark with anger. "Monsters!"

Guinevera rested her hand on his shoulder, green eyes full of distress, "Dearest, it won't help you to get upset."

"I--" Excalibus' cut himself off when Darius felt himself go rigid, a black cloud seeming to fill his mind as his body contorted and convulsed. He knew the shifting of bones and muscles should be painful, but he couldn't seem to feel it. His nerves seemed to have gone numb.

As suddenly as it seized him, the feeling was gone. Looking around, the colours seemed to be muted and muddied, but the scents and sounds were stronger and sharper. It was as if he'd had no sense of smell or hearing before and colours didn't really matter so much anymore. He turned sharply at the sound of a howl behind him. It had to be Tobias, who'd been sitting next to Darius. The new worgen leapt up from beside him and out among the other worgens prowling the cathedral. Instead of attacking this newcomer, the one he recognised as Maniel snuffled at Tobias curiously, and then offered a warning growl when Tobias moved too close to Regine, who'd stayed near Maniel. Tobias whined a little in his throat and backed away.

A warning growl drew Darius' attention back to the people beside him. The others had changed while he'd been distracted and the warning growl had come from Excalibus, who'd placed himself more fully between Pontius and Guinevera. Atheniana, her fur almost fully black except around her eyes and muzzle, looked a little dazed for a few moments. Noticing the way Pontius seemed to be eyeing her curiously past Excalibus and Guinevera, she curled her lips and leapt from behind the barricade. The others followed suit and spread out amongst their fellow worgens, sniffing and snuffling curiously. Darius was the last to emerge and remained near the altar, watching as the worgens re-introduced themselves with decidedly wolf-like mannerisms and traits. Is this what we are reduced to now? Non-verbal communication, animal-like behaviour? No, there has to be more to us than that. Surely we can learn how to talk in this form as well as we ever did as humans...

* * *

Read Part Two