Silverpine Negotiations

This story takes place in the World of Warcraft universe. These characters, locations etc belong to Blizzard Entertainment.

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The shimmering blue swirl materialized in the center of the circular room. Guards lined the circumference of the room watching the portal materialize; each of them adorned in blue and silver armor and a golden lion sigil on their tabards. On either side of the humming circle of arcane magic, two blue-robed mages were channeling their concentration and power into keeping the portal active.

At the forefront of the summoned portal were two prestigious men. One was a weathered, burly grey-haired man adorned in black and golden royal garb. The man had a hard demeanor and a face that was clearly tired and debilitated as evidenced by the bags under his eyes.

The other man beside him was significantly younger than the first. His face was scarred from battles and trials past and his striking blue eyes were a reflection of his fierceness as a warrior. Unlike the elder man, he was not adorned in rich, lavish clothing but rather a regal suit of blue and gold armor. His spaulders were formed to look like the bust heads of both a gryphon on the right shoulder and a lion on the left. Finally, two gleaming dual blades were holstered on his back.

The elder man turned to the second, whose expression was unwavering as he watched the portal surface from the mages' efforts.

"I implore accompanying you for this, my lord," the elder man gruffly said to the other.

Still not turning from the portal, the younger man replied, "As I said; your presence would be hindrance to the negotiations. This is not an insult, it is a fact, Lord Greymane. I'll settle this on my own."

The elder man, Genn Greymane, the king of Gilneas, turned toward his human counterpart with a stern expression.

"This is about my people, boy. To not be present at a negotiation which could very well determine their fate is an insult to them."

King Varian Wrynn turned back to Greymane as his eyes bore into the elder man's.

"And after what happened to Liam, do you really think you'd be able to sit idly by and negotiate?" he asked Greymane.

Greymane grimaced at the mention of his son and what had happened to him. He looked away from Varian for a moment before turning back to him with as stoic an expression as he could muster.

"Light knows I'd like to personally make that heartless wench pay for what she did to Liam, and for what she did to my homeland. But, my people's freedom and well-being is at stake here and I wouldn't do anything to comprise that," he replied.

Varian shook his head, crossing his arms as he looked back at the portal.

"I'd like to believe you, Genn. But this is not a risk I can take. With the amount of Alliance soldiers within her clutches, the risk is too high for you to accompany me and potentially ruin everything. I'm sorry, but you will have to remain in Stormwind," Varian ordered the elder leader sternly.

The gruff leader of Gilneas grumbled broodingly before turning back to Varian.

"You know, I'm not blind to the events that took place in Northrend. I question your ability to restrain yourself during this negotiation, based on the Forsaken's heinous actions in Dragonblight," Greymane accused with a raised eyebrow.

Varian turned back to Greymane with the hints of rising temper crossing his features.

"Duly noted, Lord Greymane. But my decision remains the same. I alone will bear the burden of holding myself back from lopping that banshee's head off for what she did to my soldiers at the Wrathgate," Varian replied.

Greymane grimaced and turned his head away. "Bloody hypocrite," he muttered through clenched teeth.

Varian heard the snide comment perfectly but chose not to respond to the elder Gilnean king's frustrated brooding. The two leaders sat back and watched as the portal before them grew larger and more vibrant. When it finally reached its apex, the two mages on either side of it ceased their spellwork all at once. The portal displayed the image of a dark forest with a large shattered wall looming off in the background.

"The portal is open, my lord. We will accompany you to open a return portal from the other end," one of the mages said to Varian.

Varian nodded and turned to the side, looking at a tall, brown-haired man adorned in blue and silver regalia of the Stormwind guard.

"General; shall we?" Varian said to the man.

General Marcus Jonathan gave his king a salute and ordered the small group of Stormwind footmen beside him to follow. The General and his band of soldiers, who had been watching the bickering argument between their king and the Gilnean leader, now stepped up beside the portal and awaited Varian's order.

Varian quickly turned back to Greymane. "I shall return shortly enough with her answer. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you would keep Anduin company. Tell him stories about the Second War, if you would," he suggested with a slight smirk.

They turned and both saw that Varian's son, Prince Anduin, had coincidentally been passing into the throne room. The blond-haired fifteen year old gave a nod and smile of welcoming to his father and royal guest before continuing on into another chamber with his servant in tow.

Greymane nodded despite giving another scowl of disapproval before he hastily departed from the throne room, heading off into the war room after Anduin. Varian turned back to his escort group and the two mages.

"Let's go," he said.

General Marcus nodded and he and the soldiers cleared a path for Varian. The king stepped up to the shimmering portal, peering into the image of the bleak, defiled woodland, before passing into it. After stepping through the portal, the general, his men and finally the two mages followed him through.

Varian felt himself being pulled from its current location as his body melded into the arcane magic of the portal. Both his mind and body shifted rapidly from the quick transition from one side of the continent to the other. After a few moments though, his vision cleared and he found that the image of the forest that he'd been looking at through the portal now became his reality.

He was now surrounded by the bleak woodland that was Silverpine Forest. Thicket that had at one point been a vibrant green and brown color was now reduced to a sickly black and grey. Ever since its defilation at the hands of the Undead Scourge during the Third War, this once-beautiful Lordaeron forest was now reduced to a withered shadow of its former glory. Its present aura of foulness has since only reinforced by the recent occupation by the undead Forsaken.

Varian took a moment to observe his surroundings with more thorough attentiveness. He shifted his gaze to the left and found himself along the blackened shoreline of an expansive lake. Nearby was an abandoned dock, while further beyond that, in the center of the lake, was a large island.

Varian vaguely remembered this place from the last time he had been here. The looming presence of the Ruins of Lordaeron City far off over the north side of the lake left no doubt in his mind that he was currently alongside Lordamere Lake; the centerpiece of Silverpine Forest.

He thought back to the last time he was here, so many years ago, at the time of the Second War. He, along with Anduin Lothar, the champion of Stormwind, as well as the other Stormwind refugees, had come seeking aid from the kingdom of Lordaeron against the orcish Horde after Stormwind had been destroyed and his father, the king, had been murdered. He remembered briefly passing through these forests along the way to Lordaeron Capital City.

He had only been a mere teenager at the time; so much had happened since then.

He shook his head of the distant memories and took bearing of his present location. He knew that he had a short ways to travel before he arrived at the established meeting spot that had been agreed upon between both parties. In the missive, he had intentionally picked a meeting location that was close enough to the few Alliance holdouts in the southern region of Silverpine, while being far enough away that there would be no interference in the meeting. Nevertheless, he wanted to be as far away from Forsaken encampments as possible on the chance that she had planned some sort of trap for him.

Varian heard clunky footsteps behind him. He spun around and was met with General Marcus seemingly materializing out of midair as he exited the mage portal. The mustached Stormwind general gazed curiously at his surroundings just as Varian had, wrinkling his nose with disgust as he took in the appearance of this vile woodland. He then looked at his king and nodded, gripping his hand at the hilt of his sheathed sword in case he had need of it.

Several more sharp whishing noises were emitted as, one by one, the general's footmen appeared in single file behind him, followed finally by the two mages. The armed ensemble saluted their king and stood at attention, awaiting Varian's orders.

Varian nodded to Marcus and his bodyguards and motioned them in a southwardly direction.

"Let's get moving so we can be finished with this business as soon as possible," Varian said to Marcus with a sigh.

General Marcus nodded and he and the other soldiers fell in step with their king as Varian led the way.

"Yes sire. I too have no wish to linger in this light-forsaken place," Marcus replied in agreement.

Several of the soldiers tried to pace themselves ahead of their king due to their fear of encountering an ambush. However, being a fearless warrior in his own right, Varian had no qualms about pushing on into the forest at the forefront of his personal guardsmen.

As the party traversed the eerie thicket, the soldiers' attentive eyes scanned the outlying trees while they guarded the rear and flanks of the group. At the front, Varian strode nonchalantly ahead with General Marcus walking alongside him.

Marcus' head jerked up briefly as a screeching duskbat passed by overhead, disappearing quickly into the black canopy of the trees.

Turning back to Varian, Marcus asked, "I beg pardon, my lord; but do you truly believe that she will honor this arrangement?"

Varian snorted in response as he stepped over a fallen hollow log.

"General; if you're asking whether or not she will arrive at the meeting place, believe me, I have no doubt that she will. Whether or not she will have some manner of foul trickery planned for me when I arrive, however, remains to be seen," he replied.

Marcus nodded, falling in step alongside the younger man even as he stared watchfully at the ominous wilderness surrounding them.

"And Greymane's people? Do you really think we will be able to secure their release from that witch? How can we be sure she hasn't already executed them?" Marcus asked.

Varian grimaced angrily. "If there's any hint that the captured Gilneans were killed in cold blood, my retaliation against the Forsaken will come swiftly, General."

Varian and his entourage moved forward until they came upon a gloomy open clearing of the forest. In the very center of this neck of the haunted wood, a single dark violet banner was planted in the ground. Upon the gently-swaying flag was the ghastly pale symbol of the undead Forsaken.

"This appears to be the place," Varian said to the General.

Turning back to the meeting spot, the Stormwind king squinted, staring across the clearing for any sign of Forsaken troops or their leader. After a few moments both he and Marcus couldn't detect sign of movement; the forest was aptly as lifeless as it was known for being.

Varian hid himself behind a withered tree trunk beside Marcus as the Stormwind guardsmen continued to scan the forest clearing for hostiles with weapons at the ready. Marcus frowned as he looked upon the lone Forsaken banner in the center of the woods.

"I don't like this," Marcus said, shaking his head. "It's too quiet. If she was to openly agree to this meeting, what does she have to hide?"

Varian shrugged, leaning back on the tree behind him. "She's likely just toying with us. I have no doubt that her rangers' eyes are upon us even now," he replied.

Marcus snorted. "That doesn't put me at much ease."

After a few moments, the Stormwind soldiers returned to the king and general.

"Sire; the area is clear. We appear to be alone," one of the soldiers said to Varian.

Varian nodded and his eyes scanned the surrounding forest. He turned back toward the clearing and his eyes honed in on the opposite end of it. Although the clearing and surrounding woods were dead silent and seemingly empty, his intuition as a warrior told him that someone was out there, watching, waiting.

He smirked, shaking his head. "So...that's how you want to play it, Sylvanas?" Varian said under his breath.

Looking back at Marcus and his men, he said, "No. We aren't alone here." He stepped out into the clearing before looking over his shoulder at Marcus.

"General; take the guardsman back to the portal. I'll return when I'm finished here."

Marcus blinked, looking at his king with astonishment. "Sire?" he asked despite hearing Varian's orders clearly enough.

Varian kept his dual blades close at hand in case he needed them.

"Sylvanas doesn't like that I brought company along. The banshee isn't going to show herself until I'm actually alone. I will oblige her," Varian explained.

"My lord!" Marcus called after him as Varian continued walking into the clearing. "You know how untrustworthy she is. She could very well have an ambush waiting for you!"

"There are many Alliance prisoners at stake here. If we want them released, we're going to have to play her game here. Return to the portal until our...negotiations are finished," he ordered again.

Marcus didn't look reassured but he nonetheless gave a nod to his soldiers, ordering them to fall back the way that they'd entered. The General gave Varian another worried glance.

"I can handle myself, General," Varian assured the older man with a nod.

General Marcus solemnly nodded. He turned around and walked off in the direction of the portal after his troops, taking a few quick glances back in the direction of Varian as he did until he was finally gone.

Varian turned back toward the cryptic, tattered banner as it blew in the chilling breeze. He took a steady breath and walked toward the center of the clearing, all the while his attentive features traced over the entire outer perimeter of the clearing. When he found himself standing beside the banner, in plain sight of anyone on the outside of the clearing, he called out into the surrounding shade of the forest.

"Sylvanas; I know you're here! Show yourself!" he barked out.

His announcement was met with utter silence. The gentle sound of the wind blowing was the only noise to answer his calls.

He looked out between the rows of trees encompassing the wood in all directions, looking for signs of the Forsaken leader or any of her dark ranger cohorts taking cover under the trees. He saw only the occasional duskbat swooping over the canopy, and even a black worg trotting between the trees, but no signs of any humanoids.

The human king shrugged and let out an impatient sigh before he suddenly heard the audible snapping of twigs behind him.

With haste, Varian's hands flew to the hilts of his dual blades and they were in hand and ready instantaneously. He spun around, readying his blades as he took a battle stance against the newcoming figure.

Standing before him, several yards away, was none other than Sylvanas Windrunner, the banshee queen of the Forsaken.

The undead high elf was adorned in black leather armor complete with a cryptic set of skull-laden shoulderpads. Her hood was pulled up over her head, cloaking her silver head of hair, while two pointy elven ears jutted up from two slits in her hood. Beneath that guise, staring back at the human were two striking and imposing crimson eyes. Even under the shade of the forest, Varian could also make out the very pale, almost ghostly skin that encompassed her entire slender figure beneath her black leather armor; her originally lively skin tone had long since vanished since her defilation at the hands of Arthas and the Scourge years before.

Finally, within her bluish pale hands was a black bow nocked with an arrow and pointed directly in Varian's direction.

Both leaders were locked in a seemingly entranced state with each other. Both of their chests rose and fell in steady breaths in almost perfect synchronization as their eyes remained fixed on the opposing leader. Sylvanas' bow finger was quivering slightly and Varian's hands squeezed the hilts of his swords tighter from the dramatic tension of both of them being a mere stroke away from striking out at each other.

Finally after a few moments of a tense staring battle, Sylvanas lips curved into a crooked grin that Varian met with an ever-disdainful scowl.

"It could have been so easy," her smooth yet chillingly resonant voice continued. "One pluck of my fingers...and the Alliance would have had one less king."

Varian cocked his head at her and snorted with amusement. "Don't make me laugh, banshee. I've walked away from far worse than the likes of you."

She still grinned wickedly at him, lowering her bow down slightly but still keeping it firmly pointed in his direction.

"So...I see you came armed. And you brought your royal guards along with you," she said, looking at his dual blades in hand. "So far you've done quite a job at violating your own agreement."

Varian stepped a few feet closer to her, his hardened expression unwavering and his swords still at the ready.

"One can't be too careful in a place as...enigmatic as this," he growled. "Besides, I sincerely doubt that your minions aren't lurking out there in the trees."

She pursed her cold lips at him and grinned. "Don't worry, my dear Varian; they have orders not to interfere, so long as your men keep their distance as well," she replied.

Varian lowered his weapons slightly, doing his best to put a damper on his own anger as he fixed himself on the task that brought him here.

"Well then; are you going to shoot me or not?" he asked her.

She let an elegant yet cold chuckle off at him in response. Her nimble fingers retracted by the string of her bow and she slowly removed her arrow from its place, placing it back into her black quiver behind her.

"As awfully tempting as it is, I'm actually more anxious to see what humorous proposals you have in mind for me today," she said, giving a malicious smile as her red eyes flared at him.

Varian, in response, reluctantly returned his blades to their holsters. For him, this was a difficult task based on the sour history between the two leaders. It took every ounce of his willpower not to simply go charging at the banshee with blades slashing. Still, despite withdrawing his weapons, he kept himself steady to defend himself due to the possibility of her quickly nocking another arrow now that he'd lowered his guard down.

Sylvanas closed the distance between them, sauntering her slender form over to the center of the clearing where the Forsaken truce banner was perched.

Despite how much the former high elven ranger-general disgusted him, he found it impossible to avert his gaze from her voluptuous body as she approached. Her macabre crimson eyes and deathly bluish skin tone were balanced by her slender, curvaceous form which seemed to gracefully flow like water with the swaying of her hips.

When she was standing before him, with her hands on her petite hips and a smirk adorning her face, Varian quickly shook his head of the troubling line of thought. He backed away from her upon reflex as she neared him, readying to make for the hilts of his swords if necessary.