15. Fate

Three days ago


"...The trees bent their heads, their shadow hiding the one who would do harm... and when the gentle one stood there on the path, eyes looking into the dark, they released the thorn-child from their darkness, and his venom struck... deep... and the trees, mindful of their part, wept down leaves onto the body..."*


In the dark of the night, a solitary figure stole into the welcoming shadows. Despite his acts, the trees still hid him. Protected him. And yet he was not the one that needed it. Neither did his victim. Not anymore. But the poor soul could never have expected it, nor would he understand why he had to die. Fate was cruel sometimes.

Is it possible to hate someone because you love them? Is it really possible to feel these extremes... both at once? They are so close and yet so far. Can you hate someone because they do not deserve your love? Is it contempt? And yet no matter how hard you try, you cannot stop yourself from loving them? Or is it all of this; that in the end, they will never return it. That is the maddening thing. They will forever deprive you of what you long for most. And so you can neither force yourself to stop loving them or force yourself to fully hate them. Madness indeed.


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Present

"Fenuviel,"

The Elf stopped hearing his name called. It was a familiar voice, and yet somehow different. His eyes fell upon Thayill, who grinned for a moment at him. His own expression remained cold. He knew it must be the demon.
"Yes?"
"Stay out of this,"
Fenuviel arched a brow.
"What am I meant to stay out of?"
"Don't try to 'rescue' Thayill. She's mine,"
"No, she's mine," Fenuviel snapped in response. Thayill's lips drew back into a dark grin.
"I know how to hurt you, Fenuviel. What was that boy's name... Jaqien, right?"
"If you killed him you would be killed yourself. More than just I protect him..."
"Syskae? Please..."
"Not only him. There is one that you should fear as well," he glared.
"But if you kill me, you kill Thayill too, Fenuviel,"
"If it is the only way to protect her, then I will,"
"You couldn't," Thayill laughed. They both knew she was not referring to a matter of physical strength.
"Then I gave you more credit than your intelligence deserves," He'd promised Thayill he'd do it. He'd almost killed her before even when she hadn't asked him to. Thayill's eyes flashed with anger at this comment, but she smiled sweetly, reaching up a hand slowly towards his cheek, her fingers curled and ready to scratch him as he had watched her do to others. Something about blood...

Fenuviel caught the woman's wrist firmly. "One mark is enough," he murmured with a smirk. Her eyes flickered to the scar on his cheek Darkfang had given him, smiling suddenly.
"Ah, Darkfang... I liked her. So easy to manipulate..."
"I suppose some are simply meant to be pawns..."
"She really liked you, you know. It's too bad that Lich had to eat her heart..-" Thayill began. Fenuviel threw her hand back to her side roughly, turning away. He had known that she was dead. But he hadn't known how. He didn't dare ask the story from the demon.
"Leave me," he ordered. Thayill smiled at him again, laughing harshly before she obeyed. Fenuviel hung his head slightly. There were so many he cared for. He saw for once where Shagrath was right. So many to protect... so much pain to lose them all. Why did they all have to love him? How could they? So many. But why couldn't he...


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Three days ago.

Fenuviel had spent a few peaceful days in the forests of Ashenvale. There had been a time he had loved these lands. There had also been a time he had hated them. Any land that reminded him of the Kaldorei, of his family, of his home. Now he was simply content to remain indifferent. It was almost an unspoken truce between he and the land. As though they agreed to regard one another from a distance, not truly acknowledging the other. So long as Fenuviel caused no trouble, none would be brought purposefully to him.

Home was nowhere anymore. There was no reason to feel any anger towards his people. He didn't blame them really. Nor was he sad at the thought of being forced from these lands again. He appreciated them in solitude with his Beloved, agreeing to every compliment of their beauty. The trees were beautiful, yes. But beauty could only mean so much. They could not compare to the one singing their praise in any case. His lips drew into a faint smile at that thought, unconsciously reaching a hand to trail a fingertip down Jaqien's cheek. The man smiled at him fondly, looking away from the trees for a moment to do so before sighing, sitting down upon the cushioned bench and becoming silent, lost in his own thoughts.

Sleeping now. His black tresses spilling over the rich wine coloured cushion. Fenuviel wondered for a moment if he should move him, but he didn't have the heart to risk waking him by doing so. Let him nap. The day is still long, he'll be up again.

* * *
Evening

Fenuviel stopped abruptly as a twig snapped under his boot. He blinked rapidly, focusing his eyes as he realized he had been utterly lost in his own thoughts. His eyes widened a bit in confusion as he looked up to see the enormous bear-shaped tree that marked the center of Darnassus. The bough of the eternals. Darnassus. He reached a hand sharply to his head, but found that his hood had already been put up. When had he started making his way here? And why? Looking about himself, he found no sign of Jaqien. Napping. He had gone alone. Perhaps it was the house. His home. A morbid fascination that forced him to return there. Every death of his own blood he could link to that house... any that mattered, that is. Or was it a death wish? A delightful thrill of knowing he was breaking the rules? The adrenaline rush when he passed one of the huntresses, or if a Sentinel looked at him for a moment too long. Knowing he could be caught if he made a wrong move. The secret pleasure of fooling them all.

Whatever the reason, he was there. But he couldn't place it. In his thoughts once more, his eyes had come to rest on the back of a head. A Kaldorei, a man, standing at the mailbox, leaning against one of the great roots as he read from a piece of parchment. He looked up for a moment, casting a glance to the side. It was only for a moment, but it drew Fenuviel sharply from his thoughts, his eyes focusing upon the Elf's features for a split second before he looked away. The resemblance...

The sitting Elf tucked a strand of dark hair behind a long ear. Hair the colour of a midnight sky; such a deep blue it was nearly black. His face was younger than the one he reminded Fenuviel of. His beard smaller, neater. He wore no armor, but well tailored clothes. Probably just a merchant. Someone simple. Something was off though.

Fenuviel drew closer. The Elf didn't turn. He was sure his presence could be felt, but was simply ignored. Most likely the sitting Elf assumed he was waiting for his turn to step up to one of the bankers. From under his cloak Fenuviel produced a piece of twine. He reached out after a moment, scooping up those dark strands between his gloved hands, smoothing them out, using the string to tie them in a loose pony tail. Like Shagrath wore. While he did this, the Elf did not move, but waited before leaning to the side, turning his head back to look up at Fenuviel with an arched brow; his lips curled slightly at the corners with uncertain amusement. They parted then, bursting forth in their own lyrical Darnassian that surprised Fenuviel for a moment to hear it again. His voice was gentle though. Warm, welcoming, friendly. There was no harshness or cruelty. But Fenuviel saw Shagrath. All the thoughts and feelings that were tied to him came rushing to the surface of his mind, causing him to falter for a moment, his eyes growing distant again.

"Do you always do such things to strangers, or did no one ever teach you manners?" he chuckled. Fenuviel's lips parted with a quiet sound as he was drawn from his thoughts. He realized what he had done, and pretended to blush, shaking his head slightly and looking down for a moment.
"I apologize. I don't know why I did that. You'll have to excuse me, I'm not feeling myself..." he murmured in a sweet tone. The other elf smiled at the apology, but seemed to surrender to amusement rather than bemusement.
"That's alright," he replied with a bob of his head.
"I don't suppose you could help me... I've not often been to Teldrassil. Do you think you could help me find the Oracle Glade?" Fenuviel asked suddenly. Inwardly he frowned at himself in confusion. It was almost as though he were only half aware of what he was doing, or why.
"Naturally. It's not too far once you've left the main gates to the East. You just have to take the first path north-" the stranger began, looking towards said gates and extending a hand to point. Fenuviel squinted as though in difficulty. "I could draw you a map if you need it, it isn't that difficult to find I think..." the Elf continued.
"It may help a bit, but unlikely. I'm afraid I cannot see very well, sir. If it is not too much trouble, do you think you might lead me?"
Due to the difference in heights, he could see Fenuviel's face. The youth, the faint scars around his eyes. The Elf did examine these for a minute, but seemed to take pity on the young one. Perhaps he would think to direct the hooded one to a Sentinel instead, but to Fenuviel's delight, he instead rose to his feet. He almost grinned, but forced it away. It was a fiendish grin, and a dark delight. The delight of a hunt, when the prey has wandered directly into the trap.
"Forgive me, I did not realize. Yes, let me help you. It is not -too- dangerous if you know your way, the roads are patrolled, but I imagine you could encounter some trouble if you're- well, in your condition," he murmured quietly, allowing Fenuviel to place a hand on his shoulder for support and guidance.

A rush of excitement filled Fenuviel as he let himself be lead out of the city. Away from anything that could put him in danger. He gazed upon the Elf all the more, who told him that his name was Galdor. The more he stared, the more he hated him. And yet he smiled even more broadly. He could feel the muscles of the Elf's shoulder through the flimsy fabric of his tunic. Galdor was not as broad as Shagrath. Not as strong. But every time he turned his head to look at Fenuviel and make sure he was alright, he saw Shagrath anew. Would Shagrath have ever led him in such a manner if his blindness had genuinely persisted? He doubted it. As much as he wanted to hope, the more he did, the more he hated him.

They would soon reach the Glade. He couldn't risk anyone finding them. He had to get off the path. Fenuviel cast a glance about himself. A lone nightsaber stalked through the grass, eyeing the pair warily. Fenuviel drew his lips back, flashing his teeth in what any sentient creature would recognize as a smile. But to a beast, it was a threat. Perhaps the feline would have ran, but Fenuviel leant heavily on Galdor. Weak. The fur bristled. A growl. Not loud, but Galdor could hear it. Excellent.

The dark haired Elf made a sound of surprise as he spotted the saber, quickly pulling Fenuviel to the side, who made a display of looking surprised and frightened as well. The saber took a few steps forward in warning, and Fenuviel pulled Galdor back as far as he could, the Elf drawing his sword defensively now.

"How curious..." Galdor murmured, furrowing his brow as the feline retreated.
"And how gallant you are, I thank you... And what a beautiful sword. May I look at it?" Fenuviel asked. Galdor looked at him skeptically for a moment before taking care to hand it to him hilt first, keeping a light grip on it to make sure Fenuviel wouldn't drop it or hurt himself. Fenuviel narrowed his eyes to examine it, holding it up so that the moonlight glinted off of the metal. Feigning surprise at the light shining into his eyes, Fenuviel jerked, tossing the blade away. Galdor chuckled quietly at his antics and murmured quietly to soothe the young Elf as he leant down for his sword. Before his fingers could close around the hilt though, a sharp blow forced him to stop. A boot made firm contact with his side, sending him to the ground, rolling onto his back, clutching his middle.

Fenuviel drew his hood back slowly as Galdor looked up at him in pained confusion.
"No, no sword play this time, master," Fenuviel murmured in a new tone. Firmer, colder, more controlled. The change seemed to surprise the other. Fenuviel moved his foot now to kick the sword away, but did not reach for his own. Instead he slid a set of claws onto one hand, though seemed unaware of the action.
"Master...?"
"Yes, master. It's me... don't you recognize me?" Fenuviel murmured, stepping forward to sit in front of Galdor, who cowered away slightly. Fenuviel reached out to cup his cheeks between his hands, pulling him back. He kissed him, roughly at first, then let it linger gently. He could taste the fear, the confusion, even anger and certainly disgust. Fenuviel pushed Galdor away with a dreamy frown, one of the blades slicing the soft flesh of an ear as he did so. It seemed utterly an accident, and yet somewhere beneath his illusions, Fenuviel knew that it had been quite purposeful. The wound resembled the notch in Shagrath's ear. Fresh blood trickled down to Galdor's neck, the Elf shuddering, ranting now that Fenuviel must be mad, trying to get away once more. He seemed to give up altogether on trying to get his sword back. It was probably wise in principle, simply to run, but Fenuviel knew it would do him little good either way.
"No!" Fenuviel shouted, jumping to his feet again and striking out at the Elf, the twin blades slashing open the back of his tunic and drawing forth two perfect lines of blood upon his skin. Fenuviel aimed a sharp kick at his stomach as the Elf began to fall. Galdor crumpled helplessly before him. "You will do what I want for once," Fenuviel demanded, kneeling down before Galdor to take a firm grip upon his pony tail, wrenching it back so that the Elf was forced to look up at him.
"What do you want?" the words trembled upon Galdor's lips. Fenuviel smiled wryly, a touch of sadness and longing in his eyes.
"Does it really matter anymore? Surely you knew all along, Shagrath... you crafty devil..." Fenuviel whispered. "I want you to die..."
"N-No! I'll do anything..." Galdor whimpered now, perhaps knowing it was futile to try and reason with the mad Elf, or to convince him he wasn't 'Shagrath'.
"Yes... it is your own fault. You brought it to this. Everything. It was your choice. So you must die, for my own sake," Fenuviel whispered again. Hadn't he engineered it from the start? Stolen away anyone Fenuviel loved. He had turned the body of his brother to ash, forced him from his friends, made him believe lovers were traitors. Who else did he have left to love if not Shagrath? But it was unendurable to do so. To never receive that love in return. Surely no one loved the fiend as he did. And no fiend deserved such love.

Fenuviel raised his free hand, his fingertips touching Galdor's cheek, tracing his features as they trailed down his neck. "I told you that I forgave you everything. But I suppose that was wrong... there is one thing I can never forgive you," the young Elf murmured. Galdor's eyes were wide still. Despite his trembling, the air seemed perfectly calm. Fenuviel drank from the Elf's face. It was the moment when all other thoughts and emotions fled. When pride and dignity were put aside and there was only fear. That helpless fear. He knew he was going to die. That he could not stop it. Simply wait. It was almost comforting, a moment of pure peace in Fenuviel's mind before all the hate and pain returned to him. Galdor jerked, his breath leaving him in a gasping sigh as the metal pierced his skin and slid between his ribs into his heart.

"I can never forgive you for making me love you..."

(( * part of a vision, written by Jaqien. ))