Chapter 3: Rise of the Warchief

Sylvanas took to the road now that she was protected by the improved glamour. As she approached Stormwind she met more and more people. They greeted her politely as a soldier of the Alliance and she smiled and greeted them back. She was honestly amused at how easy her enemy's land was to infiltrate.

Soon she made it to Goldshire, a small human village at the foot of the hill that led up to the city of Stormwind. Village might be a bit too strong of a word. Goldshire was more of a crossroads and trading post with an inn for those who couldn't manage to afford the prices of the city. She didn't stop, instead leading her horse quickly through the village. Up the road she went until soon she was before the gates of Stormwind.

It really was an impressive city. Large walls, large statues, impressive canals and a bustling, lively populace. Sylvanas hated it all. It was the antithesis to her beloved Undercity. It was a reminder of everything her and her people had lost.

Sylvanas rode her horse slowly through the busy streets. The mood was surprisingly somber as humans walked around in dark mourning clothes, wooden pins or emblems like those she'd seen at Tamara's house visible among them. She ignored them for the most part though, directing her horse through the flow of people and making them move for her. This drew her angry glares, but no one was going to argue against a fully armed and armored mounted soldier. Especially one who looked like she was on a mission. None of these people would ever know how important of a mission it was.

After crossing the canal that cut through Stormwind, Sylvanas finally found herself outside of the castle. She tied off her new horse outside and confidently walked inside. The castle hall was lined with guards who would no doubt give their lives to protect their king. Or to kill the Warchief of the Horde, if they ever found out who was in their midst. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever, branching off into a labyrinth of rooms, corridors, and more rooms.

When Sylvanas finally made it into the throne room she was greeted with the sight of yet more guards surrounding the room. They were unimportant though. Her gaze fell upon the throne itself and the almost too small figure sitting on it. Anduin Wrynn, son of Varian Wrynn, wasn't a bear of a man like his father which meant the throne for his father was too large for him. His lack of size was an illusion in the same way it was for Sylvanas. They both might not be walls of muscle, but they contained great power nonetheless. Anduin, crown on his head, was leaning in intensely, trying to listen to and comprehend every word of the man in front of him. He was some frumpy looking noble with too grand an idea of his own importance and was prattling on about some waste of time he wanted addressed. Such people disgusted her.

An advisor noticed Sylvanas and walked over to her, a look of self-importance on his face. "You there," said the advisor quietly, so as not to offend the talking noble. "What business do you have for the King?"

Sylvanas resisted the urge to just walk past and ignore the advisor, instead addressing him. "I have an urgent message for the King from Chillwind Camp."

The advisor studied her. "How urgent?"

"Very urgent," stressed Sylvanas. And with that she swept past the advisor. He took a moment to register what she'd done but before he could complain she was striding past the prattling noble and crouching down to kneel in front of Anduin. "Your Majesty," bid Sylvanas. "Sergeant Elise Archer. I bring word of Horde movement to the north."

Anduin took a moment to register her presence but when he did a look of shock appeared on his face. "You…" he whispered in shock.

"I need to talk to you alone," insisted Sylvanas, drawing surprised looks from those gathered around. "It's vital to the survival of Azeroth."

"How dare you approach the King like that and speak so rudely to him," chided the advisor.

"And interrupt my important business!" whined the noble.

"Enough!" declared Anduin firmly. He looked at Sylvanas, studying her. "You and I will retire to the back room so that you can deliver your message to me in private."

"But my lord!" cried the Advisor. "Surely any message could be said her-"

"I'm not done talking yet!" complained the noble.

"And you never will be," sneered Sylvanas, fed up with the display. "But go on, keep wasting our majesty's time when I come bearing news that could determine the fate of the Alliance. Oh no, both of you carry on while the Burning Legion or the Horde make it to the gates of Stormwind and burn the city to the ground. I'm sure you'll still be important, and have the same important business then, will you not?"

Before either could complain Anduin stood up from his throne. "Both of you will stop harassing a hero and a friend of mine when she says she has important business, is that clear?"

"Yes, my lord!" came the reply from the Advisor and the noble at the same time.

"Very good," smiled Anduin. "Now, could you come with me Sergeant Archer?"

"Yes, your majesty," replied Sylvanas with a bow. Together the pair walked into a meeting room, Anduin closing the door behind them.

Sylvanas smirked at the boy. "I did not know we were friends."

Anduin gave a childish grin. "I've long hoped to make friends with all the leaders of the Horde. Thank you for your decorum...and your rescue. I'm not quite used to dealing with the nobles of Stormwind yet and they're a lot more active than they were under my father."

"That's because they knew they couldn't get anything from him, but they believe they can from you. A strong ruler proves them wrong, at their own peril."

"I'll take that into consideration, but I suspect what you mean isn't quite for me." His expression turned serious again. "Did Vol'jin send you to apologize for your actions at Broken Shore?"

"Vol'jin is dead," replied Sylvanas simply. Anduin's face was filled with shock at the announcement. Before he could ask questions, she continued to speak. "He died at Broken Shore to a demon. The retreat was called because we were being overrun and our Warchief was dying. I will not apologize for making the right call," she finished sternly.

Sylvanas's expression and tone softened at her next words though. "I do regret the loss of your father. Varian was a brave and powerful warrior to the very end."

Anduin nodded, his eyes misting with tears. "Thank you. I'm also sad to hear about the loss of Vol'jin. He was a wise Warchief." Anduin's face scrunched up in thought. "Who is Warchief of the Horde now?"

Before Sylvanas could respond the door suddenly burst open and a large man came into the room. "Anduin," said the man. "I have important news!"

Of course he would choose now to barge in, grimaced Sylvanas. Genn Greyman has as bad of timing as ever.

"I'm in an important meeting uncle Genn," complained Anduin, sounding very much like the child he was still struggling to grow out of.

Genn looked over at Sylvanas as if noticing her for the first time. "My apologies," said Genn, "but I just received news from the home front!"

"The home front?" asked Anduin, his face scrunching as he tried to figure out what Genn was talking about.

"The Forsaken have pulled out of Gilneas," interrupted Sylvanas, enjoying the look of surprise on both men's faces, although for different reasons.

"Yes," replied Genn, exchanging his shock for confusion. "How'd you know that? I myself just received word by messenger hawk and rushed right over."

"It is one of the messages I came here to deliver to King Anduin," replied Sylvanas.

Genn studied her. "Should I know you? Were you one of the defenders at Gilneas?"

"I don't think you'd recognize her," interrupted Anduin. "This is Sergeant Elise Archer."

"Stationed at Chillwind Camp," she supplied.

"And you came all this way to inform us of the sudden retreat of the Horde from Gilneas?"

"No, their retreat from Andorhal," replied Sylvanas. "And all of the Eastern and Western Plaguelands."

"That news seems too good to be true!" cried Genn, shocked once more. "There is no way the savages in the Horde, and that Banshee Sylvanas especially, would do such a thing." He turned to Anduin. "This must be a trap! First, they abandon us to the Burning Legion at Broken Shore, now they try to trick us in our time of need!"

"Sergeant Archer also brought word of the events of Broken Shore," commented Anduin. "Vol'jin was killed in the fighting, it's why they sounded the retreat. They didn't abandon us."

"A likely story!" laughed Genn. He glared at Sylvanas. "Where did you hear such rubbish?"

"Directly from the new Warchief of the Horde, Sylvanas Windrunner," replied Sylvanas, dropping her glamour. She smiled at the shocked Genn Greymane. "I only speak the truth now that I speak for the Horde."

"Murderer!" yelled Genn. In an instant, his clothes were ripped as his form grew, turning in a giant bipedal wolf-man, a worgen. A curse much like her own. That fact did nothing to endear the two leaders. Genn leapt forward and slashed at Sylvanas. She had been ready though and leapt backwards, dodging his attack. Genn moved as if to continue his attack, but found that Anduin was standing in front of him, hand held out.

"Stop this uncle," demanded Anduin.

"She allowed your father to die!" cried Genn. "She's a monster and deserves to be treated as such."

"I am also Warchief," reminded Sylvanas. "And I come here in peace to renew cooperation between the Alliance and the Horde against the Burning Legion. As you already know, I have pulled back my forces from the Plaguelands and Gilneas. Soon you will no doubt be receiving word that a coalition of druids is being established by Hamuul Runetotem to work on cleansing all the lands tainted and ruined by the Scourge. In addition, word should soon come from across the sea about the Horde leaving Ashenvale."

"Truly?" asked Anduin, his eyes wide in surprise. "That's a generous show of goodwill."

"It's just a trick!" yelled Genn. "She can't be trusted. She never could be. The Banshee Queen only serves herself, and everyone else is left to die and rot!"

Sylvanas had had enough of Genn's whining and replied with her own verbal attack. "Says the man who led Gilneas to ruin?" asked Sylvanas. "The man who originally abandoned the Alliance he had promised to serve, an Alliance that included my people. An Alliance that failed to protect my people. You are not one to lecture me about serving oneself or abandoning others."

"I'll kill you!" Genn tried to move forward but found a barrier of light separating him from Sylvanas and Anduin. He glared at Anduin. "Move aside Anduin, she doesn't deserve your protection!"

"Sylvanas Windrunner is the new Warchief of the Horde," said Anduin. "That means I must treat with her as I would any other ruler. Will you calm down and advise me in such matters?"

"Gilneas will never treat with the Banshee Queen!"

"Enough!" declared Sylvanas. "If you will not accept my gestures of goodwill, then so be it. I've tried to do this the Alliance way, through compromise and negotiation. If you will not agree to that, then we will do this the Horde way."

"Barbaric slaughter of innocents?" growled Genn. Sylvanas ignored the comment.

"Through combat. You and me, no weapons," she smirked at the Worgen King. "Or are you too much of a coward to take me on in honorable combat?"

"You've made a fatal mistake with that challenge," growled Genn. "When I defeat you, the Horde will follow next."

"You are always all talk Greymane," taunted Sylvanas.

"This is insane!" protested Anduin. "We can't solve our problems through fighting each other!"

Sylvanas sneered at Genn. "Tell that to him. I tried to negotiate and he refused. I would happily get directly to drafting terms," said Sylvanas, not caring that she was being petty.

Genn growled at the young king in front of him. "Stand aside Anduin. This banshee might not have any honor but I do! It's a challenge!"

A look of defeat crossed Anduin's face as he looked back and forth between the two feuding leaders. "Fine. I'll allow the challenge, but it won't be to the death!"

"That is acceptable," replied Sylvanas.

Genn transformed back into a human, his shirt and jacket shredded by his transformation, his bare chest now visible. The only thing still covering him a necklace that hung on an oversized chain around his neck. "It'll have to do." He glared at Sylvanas. "We'll go to one of the training fields and fight there."

Where you will no doubt have an advantage, thought Sylvanas. She didn't say so though, instead; "That will be fine. Will you want a crowd to witness your defeat?"

Anduin interrupted whatever response Genn was about to say. "There won't be any witnesses besides myself and you two. Is that acceptable?"

"It will be," responded Sylvanas. She knew that keeping the challenge and its outcome quiet would give both herself and Genn an out to save face and accept the no doubt overly reasonable terms Anduin put forward to them. The boy had always been a soft-hearted thinker. He wasn't dumb and was thinking ahead. This way, Genn could agree to her terms without seeming weak for losing to her and she wouldn't have to fight off an entire city bearing down on her with pitchforks and torches. His father would've made the matter overly public. Or fought her himself.

"I also accept," growled Genn.

Anduin smiled and looked over at Sylvanas. "Could you put your illusion up again?"

Sylvanas smirked. "Do you not want me to scare that court of cowards of yours?"

"Maybe on another day," replied Anduin, shrugging and grinning much like the boy he still was. "But today we have to be careful. Maybe eventually Alliance and Horde relations will be good enough that you can prank my court?"

"I wouldn't count on it," growled Genn, taking a seat at the table.

"Would you like for me to get you an extra pair of clothes uncle?" asked Anduin.

"Yes," growled Genn. After a moment of thought he seemed to think better of his gruff response and added, "thank you."

"It's no inconvenience," replied Anduin cheerfully. "It's a good excuse to not have to talk to my court for several more minutes." He looked at Sylvanas. "Will you come with me?"

"With Greymane in here, it is not like I have a choice," commented Sylvanas, restoring her glamour with a wave of her hands. Elise Archer once again stood resplendent in Alliance armor, but the wicked smile on her face betrayed her true nature.

"There's always a choice," replied Anduin, starting to walk out of the room. Sylvanas followed. Anduin closed the door behind them then started walking down the hall. "Although, it's not always a good choice."

"That is what being a leader is about," replied Sylvanas.

"That's what I've been learning very quickly," commented Anduin, slightly dejectedly. "Broken Shore was a bigger loss for both sides then any of us ever imagined…"

An image of Vol'Jin flashed in Sylvanas' mind but she quickly stuffed it back inside her subconscious. "That it was. That is why it is important that we work together from this point on, so that those losses are not wasted."

Anduin studied her for a moment through her glamour. "Is that why you're here personally instead of sending someone like Thrall or Baine?"

"We all decided this was for the best," replied Sylvanas non-committedly. "Everyone in the Horde is dedicated to wiping the Burning Legion off the face of Azeroth. Can the same be said about the Alliance?"

"Of course," replied Anduin confidently, although some of that confidence disappeared a moment later. "The Night Elves are, many of them know personally of the horrors of the Legion. The same can be said for the Draenei."

Sylvanas raised a brow in question. "And the others?"

"The Humans of the Alliance will gladly focus on the Legion." He paused a moment, becoming pensive. "No one wants revenge on the Legion more than us…" After a moment he managed to sweep away the dark cloud that had covered his features. "And the Gnomes have told me they're with us one hundred percent of the way, whatever that way turns out to be."

"The Dwarves?"

"Can always be trusted to have our back," replied Anduin sunnily. He let out a sudden chuckle. "Although, there'll probably be some complaining along the way, but that's just how they are."

Anduin stopped in front of a door that looked no different than the dozens of others they'd currently passed while talking. "Well, here we are. Let's grab him some clothes and then we'll head back." He became thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe I should make that two pairs, in case he rips the others in the fight against you. You never know…"

"Your tailors must hate the worgen," commented Sylvanas dryly as they stepped into Greymane's room. She didn't even bother studying the room. She couldn't care less about learning more about her current foe.

"On the contrary," commented Anduin, opening a wardrobe and starting to pull out some clothes. "They relish the challenge. I've been assured that they're close to figuring out the challenge of clothes and armor that work for both human and worgen forms and don't inhibit any range of motion. Even when they're running on all fours. Until that moment comes though, they just get paid handsomely to keep stitching and re-stitching."

Sylvanas smirked. "You are much too carefree for a leader. Telling me information about your forces and allowing me to tour through the halls of your castle."

Anduin closed the wardrobe, a pile of clothes now in his arms. He just smiled at her as he walked past her out the door. She politely closed the door behind herself as she exited. "I know you already have the blueprints to the castle, just like I have the blueprints to Undercity. Which you also know. Is there anything we've actually discussed today that you didn't already know?"

"There is not," admitted Sylvanas. It was the truth, but it annoyed her still that a leader like Anduin could actually exist. And what was worse was that sixth sense that allowed her to see potential in her own subordinates she knew that he'd probably last for many, many years to come. Someone drenched in the light as much as he was succeeding, that might've been the greatest insult she'd ever imagined.

"And unlike my father, I know that those in the Horde can't be intimidated, you especially," commented Anduin. "You can only be treated with the proper respect and hope that you'll respond in kind."

Sylvanas scoffed. "You are right about that first part. It looks like you learned much from the Prophet of the Draenei."

"Velen is a wise teacher," nodded Anduin. "The next question is, are you in the Horde wise enough to respond in kind?"

"I am practical enough," replied Sylvanas with a vicious grin. "You will have to accept that."

Anduin just nodded. "I can."

Suddenly the advisor that had been bothering Sylvanas in the throne room earlier turned the corner right in front of them. When he saw them he gave a little cry of surprise. "Your majesty!" cried the advisor. His face was red, his breath short and his hands fumbled a bit to try to smooth out the wrinkles from his clothes that had been disturbed as he'd run around, clearly looking for Anduin. "There you are! You were taking so long and there's so many nobles who still need to talk to you today!"

"Anything urgent that can't wait until tomorrow?"

Sylvanas couldn't help but laugh at the hopelessly flabbergasted expression on the advisor's face, which of course only served to through the man off even more as he tried to pull together a reply. "Well, there is Baron Dummkopf who is worried that the war with the Legion might hurt his vineyard and Lady Verdammt, who wants to ask if you would be willing to join her, and her four VERY lovely daughters for dinner tonight at their estate."

"So, nothing urgent?" asked Anduin again.

"Well...uh...I guess there was a rumor about the Banshee Queen terrorizing a family down in the Elwynn forest?" asked the advisor, apparently unaware of what urgent meant. "The news was brought by Duke Scheiss as he made his way here this morning. He came across a rather panicked old woman and valiantly promised to carry word to you himself. I guess she was worried that your life was in danger…"

The advisor became very very confused as Anduin turned to look at Sylvanas. "Did someone get hurt?"

Sylvanas shrugged. "I saved a girl's life from a wolf. The grandmother is overreacting."

"Everyone is fine?"

"Yes."

"Good," said Anduin, smiling. "Should I be worried for my life?"

"Constantly," stated Sylvanas simply. "But that is what it means to be a ruler. In this case, no more worried than usual."

"I'll consider your advice," replied Anduin. He turned back to the absolutely flabbergasted advisor "Tell everyone I'm sorry but I have sudden urgent business and I'll gladly take their complaints tomorrow morning. If there is anything life threatening, then they should bring it up with the city guard and get it dealt with immediately."

"Where will you be your Majesty?"

Sylvanas stepped forward so that she was face to face with the advisor. "That is important and confidential Alliance business. The more people who know then the more likely we all are to fall to the Legion. Maybe if you had ever in your life demonstrated any type of discretion or good judgement you could be trusted with such secrets, but until then you will continue to stay an insignificant speck in life."

"Wh-what do you know about me…" replied the advisor, trying to sound confrontational and instead coming off as about to piss his pants.

Sylvanas just leaned in closer. "Enough."

The advisor's legs collapsed at that moment and he fell to his knees, shivering in fear. Anduin glared at Sylvanas for a moment before kneeling in front of the man and putting a hand on his shoulder. Holy energy glowed around Anduin's hand into the advisor. "Don't worry about it, everything will be fine," assured the young King. "Just take the rest of the day off after dismissing the nobles, okay?"

The advisor stood up slowly, mumbled his thanks while bowing deeply to Anduin and then ran down the corridor back towards the throne room. Anduin looked back at Sylvanas. "I take it back, I don't think you should be allowed to terrorize my court."

"He will now respect you and your authority after this," commented Sylvanas.

"Because I healed him, not because you scared him," replied Anduin.

Sylvanas shrugged. "But without me you would have never had the opportunity to do so. You are welcome."

Anduin let out a deep sigh. "You don't make it easy for others to like you, do you?"

"They do not need to like me and I never asked anyone to," growled Sylvanas. "I am past such concerns. People only need to understand that I am here and I am not going anywhere."

"Well, thanks for the warning," replied Anduin with a small smile. "Are you ready to fight Uncle?"

"Of course."

"We could always try to bring it up during an emergency Alliance meeting. I'm sure the other leaders would agree with me and together we could convince him," said Anduin."

Sylvanas laughed at that. "Last time an Alliance tried to do something he did not like Greymane left it to die. He will not be convinced by words, only forced to action."

"That's a depressing outlook," scowled Anduin.

"It is a realistic one."

Sylvanas stood on the training field, clouds completely blocking out the sun and threatening rain. Across from her stood Genn Greymane, his hands crossed across his chest and his face grim. Anduin took a deep breath before holding out his arms out in front of him.

"Today, Warchief Sylvanas Windrunner and King Genn Greymane will battle to decide whether Gilneas will support the Alliance in working together with the Horde to defeat the Burning Legion."

Anduin looked over at Greymane. "King Greymane, will you swear that if you lose you will support the Alliance in this venture, and win or lose, you will still stay a member of the Alliance?"

"I swear," replied Greymane.

Anduin looked to Sylvanas. "Warchief Windrunner, will you swear that if you win you will truly keep up your end of the bargain in fighting the Burning Legion and if you lose that you will accept the outcome as we have agreed upon?"

"I swear it," replied Sylvanas.

Anduin was grim as he walked between the two leaders and held out a hand to each of them. "Then now take my hand, and once again give your promises, this time with the knowledge that there will be no killing the other in this fight.

Sylvanas reached out and took Anduins outstretched hand in her own as Greymane did the same. "I swear once more to the terms and that I will not kill my opponent." Light glowed around the connected hands and Sylvanas realized that the young King had just used holy magic to force promises between the three of them. Clever. She saw from a scowl on his face that Greymane realized that he'd also been played. Maybe she could work with the new King of Stormwind after all.

Anduin released their hands and stepped back away from the fighters. "And now, with my power as Leader of the Alliance, the King of Stormwind, a Priest of the Holy Light and binder of this pact, I declare that the fight now commence!"

Before the words had even completely left his mouth both fighters were flying into motion. Sylvanas spun around with a roundhouse kick to Genn's side but he blocked with a suddenly furry and muscular arm. Retracting the leg quickly she ducked under a clawed hand and struck him with a punch to the chest. The musclebound werewolf was able to take the punch without so much as flinching and swiped once more at her. She rolled to the side and backflipped away as Genn tried to pounce on her quickly. Every time she dodged and tried to make room he was on top of her, shrugging aside her punches which could usually take out a human. Undead elven strength was apparently nothing for the muscle-bound fortitude of a werewolf.

Sylvanas knew that she was outmatched in an unarmed fight. She didn't have a bow, sword or even a dagger like she might usually. Greymane on the other hand was a weapon. His claws could tear through armor as easily as flesh, his teeth could crush bone and his own strength and speed were better than hers. The only advantage she had was that she was Sylvanas Windrunner, former Ranger General of Silvermoon and Dark Lady of the Forsaken. She was much more skilled at combat and had powerful dark magics at her command. Greymane didn't stand a chance.

As she was figuring out her next move she failed to properly dodge a swipe of Greymane's claws and the Alliance armor she was still wearing, with the combined glamour in case of random soldiers walking past, gained a deep new gash on its otherwise pristine surface. A necklace swung from Greymane's neck, the only ornamentation covering his furry body.

Sylvanas ignored the hit scored on her and steadied her footing. When Greymane pounced at her once more instead of stepping away she stepped forward and struck at him with a magically enhanced punch that would knock him through a tree and into unconsciousness. At least, that had been the plan. Instead her punch struck him with the regular amount of force as the necklace around his neck flashed briefly. She barely managed to recover from her shock as Greymane attempted to claw her once again. This time his claws raked against the armor, tearing through the metal easily.

Rolling away from Greymane, Sylvanas prepared to fend him off. "Nice amulet," she sneered. "Anti-magic?" As she spoke she assessed the damage she'd received. The armor along her arm was ripped and some purplish ichor was oozing out of a new gash on her arm, but everything still functioned fine. The problem now was that she wasn't sure of how she should be proceeding in the fight.

"To stop any nasty magical tricks you might have up your sleeve," replied Greymane. "We'll see how you do on fair ground, no weapons or magic to rely upon, just your skills against mine." He was quiet for a moment before growling softly, "and no poison to try to kill me with either."

Sylvanas realized what Greymane was referring to. "I was ordered by Garrosh to invade Gilneas," commented Sylvanas.

"Did those orders include bombing my city with plague bombs?!" cried Greymane angrily. "Killing my son with a poisoned arrow?!"

"Liam took the arrow meant for you," she replied coolly.

"You fired it!"

"Yes, I did. And I would have fired it again. I was working to follow my orders, to bring success to the Horde. I will always do what I believe is best for the Horde, even if that is working with you and the Alliance."

"And that attitude is why you can't be trusted!" snapped Greymane.

"That is exactly why I can be trusted," replied Sylvanas. "As Warchief, breaking my word now would only harm the Horde. I truly desire this peace between our two sides. It is the only way to survive the Burning Legion. What more do you want from me than what I have already offered?"

"I want my son back!"

Sylvanas glared coolly at Greymane. "No, you do not. You are just angry that your decisions as a leader meant the fall of your city, the death of your people, your curse and the death of your son. I just fired the arrow. I am a convenient target."

"Don't give me that almighty attitude!" spat Greymane. "I know all about the crusade you went on for years to try to avenge Arthas for your death. I am entitled to the same!"

"Killing Arthas did not afford me any relief, just emptiness. I was without a purpose, and I made mistakes while trying to achieve my revenge. I tried to fill my purpose in serving the Horde, but Garrosh would accept none of it, so I tried to prove myself by taking your city and killing you. That did not work, clearly." As she spoke, Vol'jin's lifeless corpse flashed through her mind. "Now I have been entrusted by Vol'Jin to serve the Horde once more and I will not allow you and my past mistakes to get in the way of my mission!"

Greymane crouched down, ready to pounce. "Bring it Banshee Queen! Today you fall to me!"

Sylvanas was a skilled fighter, she knew many, many different forms of combat and war, but none of that was useful now. A Ranger General couldn't take on a werewolf bare handed. A Banshee Queen couldn't defeat an amulet with such a powerful enchantment on it even with all the dark power at her command. She had nothing and was thus nothing.

"Many will not understand, but you must step outta da shadows... and lead. You must... be... Warchief…" Vol'jin's voice once again echoed through her mind. The final line lingered in her thoughts. "You must… be… Warchief."

Warchief… thought Sylvanas. She was already proving herself as Warchief. She'd gotten oaths from her commanders, inspired her people to action, made compromises and had been working towards aligning with the Alliance against a bigger threat. She was a leader, much like she'd always been. Her own words barely an hour prior rung through her mind. We will do this the Horde way. She'd meant single combat, and that's what she was doing, but she'd also thought she would have her magic.

Thrall, Vol'jin and even Garrosh had solved problems this way, head on with no regard to themselves. They had put themselves into everything they'd done. Cairne had done the same when he'd challenged Garrosh to combat and he'd died to an underhanded tactic, but he'd still died like one worthy to be Warchief.

She was Warchief, and she realized that meant more than just being a leader. The Alliance had strong leaders, but they had no single person who could match the Warchief of the Horde. Not even Varian, who had been closest to being such, could have truly claimed a similar title. In the end, he was just a King, nothing more. A King in an Alliance, much like Greymane was. They could never compare to the legacy she held on her shoulders now, and that meant she could never lose, to anyone.

Sylvanas crouched down in an unfamiliar combat form, one she'd only ever seen others use. She sneered at Greymane. "Big talk, but can you really back up those words?"

Greymane launched forward towards her. "I can and I will!" He swung at her with blinding speed. "I am King and today I avenge my people!"

Sylvanas held her ground as she blocked Greymane's strike, the ground under her feet shaking at the force of the blow. "You may be King," she started, taking a step forward. Before he could respond Sylvanas was headbutting the Worgen in the snout as hard as she could, causing him to give a cry of surprise. "But I am not." She brought a knee up as hard as she could, smashing into his crotch. Watching the fight Anduin gave a sympathetic wince. "I am the ruler of the whole Horde!" She then swept his legs from out from under him while grabbing onto one of his arms with both hands. "I. Am. Warchief!" Then she twisted around and brought Greymane with her and through the air to end up slamming onto the ground on his back.

Sylvanas glared down at the stunned and bloody Worgen. "And being Warchief means that nothing stops me. Not even you. Now, do you submit?"

Greymane slowly opened his eyes, glaring up at her with hatred. "Ne-never…"

Anduin walked forward before anything else could be said between the combatants. "You've lost Uncle. Accept your loss like the man you are."

Greymane looked like he would continue arguing for a moment before a look of defeat appeared on his face. "Fine, I accept my defeat. Gilneas will support the Alliance in working with the Horde to defeat the Burning Legion."

Anduin knelt next to Greymane. "Thank you, Uncle." His hands glowed with holy light and that light flashed over Greymane, healing all his wounds.

Greymane transformed back to a human, his clothes destroyed by his transformation, only scraps still clinging to him. He took the hand offered by Anduin and together the two stood. He glared at Sylvanas. "The Horde had better keep it's word this time."

Sylvanas thumped her fist against the Alliance breastplate she still wore, a rare smile on her face and a chuckle escaping her. "I swear as Warchief of the Horde that we will not abandon the Alliance to the Burning Legion and that we will lead the charge against them, with or without your help. We will not back down."

Greymane scoffed as he turned and started walking to the set of spare clothes they'd brought him. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Anduin walked over to Sylvanas with a smile on his face. "I look forward to working with you, even if the reason is the direst of circumstances. I will immediately call for talks among the Alliance leaders and I give you my promise that I will convince them."

"Do not make promises that you might not be able to keep," replied Sylvanas. "But I too look forward to working with you against the Legion. I hope you do not fail."

Anduin eyed her for a moment. "Would you like to rest a while in the castle as my guest? Maybe join me for a meal to discuss further terms?"

"There are no further terms to discuss until I know that the Alliance with work together once more with the Horde. Once you know that, then maybe I will accept your invitation. Until then, I do not eat and do not need to rest. I will be immediately heading home, I cannot rest as Warchief, there is still much to be done."

Anduin nodded. "I understand. Do you mind if I walk you out of the city, to make sure nothing befalls you? We do have a few priests and paladins who I believe could see past your glamour and I wouldn't hate for one to try to slay you when you're walking through the marketplace."

Sylvanas laughed coldly. "You mean you would hate for one of them to be killed while in the marketplace."

"As you say," conceded Anduin.

"I think I may actually enjoy working with you," commented Sylvanas.

Anduin laughed at that. "I sure hope so." He looked over his shoulder at a now fully dressed Genn Greymane. "Are you going to join me in seeing our esteemed guest off, Uncle?"

Genn scowled at him. "I think I'll have to decline that offer. I'm going to buy a bottle and prepare myself to sing my praise for the Horde at the upcoming meeting." And with that Genn stalked off across the field, presumably to the nearest tavern.

Anduin gave a sigh. "Oh well. Let's go."

The two leaders retrieved Sylvanas's horse and together walked through the streets of Stormwind, attracting much attention and taking a long time to clear through the crowds that gathered around the new King, many giving condolences and others expressing confidence in his new reign.

Soon they made it to the gate of Stormwind and Sylvanas got onto her horse. Anduin held out his hand and she took it, shaking it in the human style. The crowd around them eyed her in fascination, probably wondering who she was to warrant such treatment from the King.

"Have a safe trip and I look forward to working with you in the future," bid Anduin with a smile.

Sylvanas returned the smile, although hers was a lot more predatory. "I also look forward to the future. Just imagining the looks on your Nobles' faces when they realize what just happened will keep me amused." She looked around at the muttering crowd. "Now before I contribute to any more wild rumors I will be off. There is much to do. Farewell."

And without any more words she galloped her horse out of the city as fast as she could, not caring for the messenger who almost got flattened before rushing out of the way in time. She was Warchief, and her biggest obstacle to success had been defeated. She wanted nothing more to run with the wind like her ancestors had been said to do once. Even if she had to kill the horse to achieve such a pace. She whipped the reins. "Faster!" The horse complied, galloping faster than any undead stead could manage.

As the sun set around her she couldn't help but feel that it was going to be a good night.

Author's Notes: And that's the end. This was so much fun to right. Sylvanas was so entertaining to write being a consistently horrible person. Anduin was a break out character when writing this. I wasn't expecting him to be as entertaining to write or as much of a personality match, and foil, for Sylvanas. It was a nice surprise. I do not apologize for the horrible names of horrible names of the OC side characters. For anyone who doesn't get any references or puns, you're probably not missing much.