Hello there! This is my first fanfic. It features my favorite lore characters in World of Warcraft, the bromantic Koltira and Thassarian. It will include my version of how I feel the Sylvanas's-captive-Koltira cliffhanger should end, since Blizzard will never in a thousand years make it happen XD

Please read/review/enjoy!

CHAPTER 1: Capriciousness

The wood between Mender's Stead and Hearthglen in the Western Plaguelands had not fully recovered from its time in the grip of the Scourge. It was silent and eerie; very few birds and animals had yet recolonized the region. Ruined houses, some mere shells with only foundations and chimneys left standing, dotted the forest. A persistent mist clung to the sparse shrubs and vegetation in the once-fertile shallow valley.

He waited for the other, dismounting and hobbling his charger, Bloodmist, near one of the crumbled cottages. The early morning was bitingly cold; though he couldn't feel it himself, he could tell by the way his cool breath misted in the air. He had sent a bird to Hearthglen, fervently hoping that the encoded message would reach whom he had intended.

He did not need to wait long to find out. Bloodmist's ears pricked up, and he knew the other was approaching. The huge, deathly warhorse appeared through the mist, the soft clop of his hooves on the loam seeming to ring and die suddenly in the muffled silence of the wood. He could see the dim blue glow of their eyes before he could see their shapes clearly.

The hulking, heavily armored man dismounted and hobbled Dusk alongside Bloodmist. The man did not meet his eyes, instead focusing on his horse, checking the reins and saddle unnecessarily.

"That was quite a show you put on back there, Thassarian."

"I had to. You know that," Thassarian replied gruffly.

"Ah. Yes. Your Alliance ward. Wouldn't want her tattling to Tirion Fordring about how the high-appointed General of Alliance forces in Andorhal is secretly fucking Sylvanas's commander."

Thassarian remained silent, staring at the ground; he seemed uncharacteristically melancholy.

Koltira felt a flash of annoyance, and pressed on heedlessly. "You sent her to kill my War-Captains. What, the great Thassarian has grown too cowardly to slay those he condemns himself? Has joining the Alliance stripped you of the Blade's death-bought valor?" His own gall and the words he spat had made him more than irritated; he was angry now. "I didn't think I'd ever see Thassarian become the lapdog of some coward-king, a little talking bird following orders and issuing cowardly commands."

"Watch yourself, Deathweaver!" Thassarian shouted with sudden anger. He had closed his hands around his sheathed swords and taken a step toward Koltira. "I'm sure your Captains suffered well, brother. And how is the Lady Sylvanas?" he sneered, "hiding behind her scourge machines, her plague-bearers, sending those monsters, those whores of Northrend, the Val'kyr, to slay peasants and turn them to her will?"

"Your rabble of peasants attacked my men first!"

Thassarian dismissed the accusation with a sharp shake of his head. "She has become what we were fighting, Koltira! If I had known what she was planning, I would have led the attack!"

Koltira ignored that statement as well, staring at him with his jaw clenched stubbornly.

Straightening, Thassarian regarded him with cold disdain. "She has become a lovely Lich-Queen, and you her slavering Lich-Dog, to share her unearned victories and-who knows?-maybe even her bed."

Too far. Koltira snarled in fury and drew Byfrost from its sheath on his back. Thassarian simultaneously drew his dual blades, closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye. Their blades clashed together with a grinding shriek, and Koltira barely leapt aside in time as Thassarian untangled his left-hand sword and swept it in a horizontal slice that would have disemboweled the blood elf. Koltira countered with a mighty two-handed overhead blow that Thassarian barely managed to catch and block with his blades crossed over his head. The elf's inertia from the force of the blow was too much for Thassarian to fully halt, and one of the curved edges of Byfrost's point nicked him on the brow, drawing a sudden gush of deep blue, faintly glowing blood. Thassarian disengaged, deftly parrying the larger sword with his dual blades and skipping back several steps to begin another assault.

Both combatants' blows were clumsy and easily anticipated, and Koltira knew that Thassarian was holding back on purpose, as was he. They had seen each other fight. They would both be grievously wounded or worse if they were to fight in earnest. Even through the cloud of his anger, Koltira saw Thassarian: his comrade, his brother, his lover. Panting, his cold breath steaming in the colder air, he stopped suddenly after another engagement, letting Byfrost slip from his fingers, doubling over from exertion and holding up a hand in surrender. "Please, Thass. I refuse to continue this pointless fighting."

"And you call me coward." Thassarian wasn't so easily calmed, but he ceased his assault and glowered at Koltira. He gestured with his swords angrily as he spoke. "We should refuse to continue this pointless fighting. All of it. How long can it keep going? I nearly long for the unending cold of Northrend, the long lines of Scourge, mindless and fearless, so much wheat for the reaving, to this…this turning of brother against brother, this senseless slaughter, while the Destroyer breathes his fire down our soon-to-be headless necks. Do you not realize the extent of this futility? And she's behind it, that Banshee bitch. She musters her undead forces to march on the South, spreading her plague as she goes, and I've a feeling this is merely the least of what we've seen of her plans, of her plans for you, in particular. Sylvanas is up to something, Tira. You'd have to be a fool not to see it."

Koltira looked up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since they had begun fighting. He saw that Thassarian's brow, cut and flowing with pulses of blue-black blood, had furrowed in concern; for him, no more or less: not for the Alliance, not for Andorhal, not for war. He instantly felt ashamed for goading him.

He may be rash, but he is as intuitively observant as ever. He sighed. "I am growing…uneasy…about her intentions with me. I'm not so blind as to believe that she actually trusts me as her commander here, nor do I think her naïve enough to believe that you and I have become fast enemies after serving as brothers for these long years. The truth is that I'm not sure what she wants with me. To make me her slave, her groveling emissary for access to the Ebon Blade, or something more…she is unreadable and untrusting." He paused, unsure if he should continue. It's Thass. Back then…in Northrend, I could tell him anything. But times have changed.

Thassarian had been listening raptly, waiting, his expectant expression revealing his suspicion that Koltira had not told him everything.

Koltira measured his words carefully. "I'm afraid…that is, I suspect, but am not yet certain…that she means to use necromancy on me, to test whether she can enslave her Forsaken as the Lich King enslaves the Scourge. If she proved capable of that, then your slight about the 'Lich-Queen' would not have been at all far from the mark."

As Koltira spoke, Thassarian's face went slack, his eyes widening with shock. Dammit, what have I done? I couldn't just hold my tongue, could I? "This…y-you must tell someone!" Thassarian spluttered. "We must warn King Wrynn at once, if this is true-"

"It would mean open and widespread war." Koltira spoke with careful earnesty. He wiped Byfrost on a patch of cracked, frozen grass before sheathing it, pointedly avoiding Thassarian's gaze. I know him. I must be cautious; once he is riled, he will rarely be dissuaded.

"Obviously! If she means to use our men as her enslaved minions…God, it would be like Northrend again…I must leave now, this moment, warn them…" Thassarian strode over to where he had hobbled his warhorse, Dusk; untied him; swung up into the saddle. He brought the horse about to face Koltira. "And you, Tira. You must leave this place. Get as far from that undead wench as you can. Now that I've heard you say it, I'm certain you're right. Don't let her have you."

As he spoke those words, Koltira detected something in his voice and looked up at him sharply. Thassarian was giving him a curious but somehow familiar look.

"Come with me," Thassarian blurted, the words spilling out of him so abruptly that Koltira was certain he had been close to not saying them at all.

No…Belore, no, why did you have to ask me? You know I can never refuse you. Koltira sat down on the ground as weariness suddenly washed over him. Maybe I can still stop you. I never could before, though. "Well, you did say that you longed for Northrend." He gave Thassarian a sad smile. "And the resulting war…that would certainly remind us of it."

"Hell yes. In more ways than one." Thassarian's face had lit up as he felt his battle hunger stir. His eyes met Koltira's with a burning, intense look that he knew all too well. Don't look at me like that, like you did then. Northrend is far behind us. He was sure that, if he asked, Thassarian would gather the tattered remains of his forces this moment and march on the Undercity itself. Koltira couldn't think of a single person more capricious than his brother-in-death. Belore-talah! Koltira cursed himself inwardly. He's set now, and I'm just making it worse. Determination swelled in him and he soldiered on.

"No. Thass, this is folly. We mustn't spark a war while Deathwing threatens the entirety of two continents; you said as much yourself. We must tread carefully here." Koltira rose suddenly and seized Dusk's bridle, holding him firmly in place.

"That was before I realized that Banshee-bitch truly is styling herself the next Lich King. We can't let this spread like it did before, in Northrend and here—here, Tira! In this very place! I won't let it." Thassarian spoke the last few words with fierce conviction. "Get out of my way," he snarled.

And here I nearly thought he missed my refusing him. Now I find out if everything has changed. If his heart had still held a strong enough beat, it would have been pounding in his ears. "I won't. At least let me dress your wound." He reached up to where the blood was still oozing sluggishly from the partly-clotted gash on Thassarian's brow and gently wiped some from above his eye.

Thassarian froze when Koltira's hand touched his face. He gazed uncomprehendingly at the blood that had dripped unnoticed onto his arm and hand. He didn't even realize I cut him. "I am sorry for that," Koltira said, abashed. "My wrath made me stronger than I realized."

Abruptly, Thassarian grabbed his hand, and dismounted smoothly from Dusk. For a moment, Koltira couldn't tell whether he was furious or impassioned. Then he took Koltira's face in both his hands and kissed him so fiercely that a rivulet of blood was forced from his wound and down onto their lips. Koltira slid his hands up into Thassarian's hair and gasped with passion as his lips parted. They clung to each other, Koltira pressing himself against Thassarian as tightly as their armor would allow.

Too soon, they parted. Thassarian looked at Koltira, whose arms were still tangled up around him. Thassarian grinned at him lustily, and there, suddenly, was Koltira's old brother-in-death, his lover, the man for whom his frozen heart ached. He felt the long-forgotten glowing blue blush filling his cheeks, as it had those years ago in Northrend; lifetimes, millennia, eons.

"Now that I longed for," Thassarian said softly.

END CHAPTER 1

Author's note: I use Belore (pronounced bell-or-ay) as a Thalassian (blood elf language) curse here, because there isn't really a "curse" that is equivalent to, say, the Night Elf Darnassian Elune! that I imagine they would use as a curse/oath. Belore means "sun" in Thalassian, and I always imagine that the sun is to Blood Elves what the moon is to Night Elves. Maybe a little bit of a stretch, but I didn't imagine that Thalassian-speaking Koltira would say "God!" like a human would!

Note Edit: Thank you, Ceasefire, for letting me know that Koltira's horse's name is "Bloodmist" in canon!