Title: The Forsaken
Author: Link Worshiper
Pairings: 1=2, maybe some others if I feel like it
Rating: PG-13
Stuff: Fantasy AU, fluff, sap, language, adventure, WoW nerdiness
Disclaimer: I own Gundam Wing action figures? Warcraft and its lore belongs to Blizzard Entertainment. Both things are being played with out of fangirl love.

Thanks to danse and Natea for the once over. Despite the fact this is part of Natea's birthday present, I still needed her to fill me in on the Alliance history they don't teach us on Horde, so thanks for that also =P

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Part IX
Seadog

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The low wetlands of Khaz Modan was a marshy, wooded area that fell under Alliance control. Once a thriving home for many of Ironforge's dwarves, the place had fallen into more chaotic times, now rife with wildlife, the occasional murloc village, and a few pockets of unfriendly Dark Iron dwarves. It wasn't much to travel there undetected, but it involved staying off the main roads, which were well traversed by the Alliance dwarves and humans who held the harbour to the west. And as far as Duo Blackscythe was concerned, playing it safe was just another euphemism for wasting time.

Still, they had to dodge an old, ruined dwarven town at the mouth of the wetlands that was now occupied by the Dark Irons. This clan of black sorcerers had alienated themselves from the dwarves of Ironforge, which was a close ally to Stormwind, and had been exiled to the volcanic lands to the south. Small crops of them could be found scattered between the Burning Steppes and the wetlands, and they were a rather hostile lot, eternally bitter that their campaign to rule over the other Ironforge dwarves had failed. Neither Duo nor Trowa particularly feared them, but Heero, who had fought with them before, knew them to be a more threatening enemy than most people gave them credit for. At least avoiding them this time proved to be relatively simple.

The rain had slowed to a misty drizzle as they pressed onwards along the main pathway. Duo kept prattling on about making good time, but it was clear that even he was a bit weary from their near death experience at the Thandol Span. Heero wanted to suggest making camp for even a few hours, but he knew he would be berated for even trying to suggest it, so he kept his mouth shut. Instead, he let himself wonder about the scarred Scarlet Crusade crest he'd seen burned into Duo's flesh and tried to come up with an explanation for it. Despite the fact that he'd told himself to forget about it, such a strange thing wasn't so easily ignored. The Scarlets were an extremist faction of overly religious humans that were hellbent on eradicating the undead from the face of Azeroth: it led Heero to wonder if Duo's burn mark signified a past affiliation with them or was a torturous reminder of capture after he'd died.

After a little more walking, it was actually Trowa that broke the silence. "You know," he said, slowing to a halt, "we're starting to run a little low on provisions." They were standing at a fork in the road that split the path between Menethil Harbour and the southern route that led to the Loch. Trowa's eyes kept darting between the two roads, unsure if it would be a worthwhile detour to head to the harbour to steal.

Jutting out his chin, Duo sighed with annoyance. "Well, maybe if you hadn't sent us rushing out of Arathi so prematurely, we would have had time to make sure that we had packed all your precious 'food'," he snapped, making airquotes around that last word. "The blame lies with no one other than yourself."

Silently, Heero agreed with Duo, but he knew that they wouldn't make it much longer if they didn't have anything to eat. He sorely wished Duo would at least concede to take a break while they deliberated over what to do.

"So let the Alliance find us. Wonderful," Trowa sneered sarcastically, rolling his green eyes. He glanced down at Heavypaw, who was anxiously pacing back and forth. "I'm not wasting arrows on squirrels, so dare not even mention it," Trowa added, stealing the suggestion right from Duo's mouth. True enough, the only things that might have offered them good meat were too small to bother with.

Duo glanced at Heero, who seemed like he was about to fall over his own feet, despite the strong way he was trying to carry himself. Scowling, he gave in. "Very well, we'll stop," he said morosely. "Maybe we'll send the human into the harbour town to steal what you need." He sent another glance at Heero, saying, "You are a rogue, are you not? Stealing is the only thing you're good for." It was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

Heero chose not to rise to the bait and instead just shrugged his shoulders. They turned down the path leading towards the ocean, all the while keeping an eye out for a discreet spot to settle for the interim.

When they finally found a place to bunker down, Trowa barely let Heero sit before he was shooing him further down the path. "The sooner you go, the sooner we can leave," he said, tossing his head in the direction of the harbour.

Duo glanced up at Heero apologetically, aware that Heero would have liked a few moments to rest as well. He deliberated a moment and then reached for his staff, which he used to help himself stand. "I'll accompany you," he said by way of explanation. He added, mostly for Trowa's benefit, "You know, so he doesn't try anything funny... like escaping."

Heero knew Duo was more than aware that he had absolutely no intentions of trying to get away, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. He was pretty sure Trowa wouldn't care what Duo did so long as the same end was met, and true enough, the blood elf waved off Duo's request as if it were the most inconsequential thing in the world to him.

"Well then, shall we?" Duo said jovially, nodding his head in the direction of Menethil Harbour. "If we set out now, we could be back by nightfall," he said, ambling casually down the road as if they were off on a Sunday stroll. His odd bounces in attitude were extremely befuddling.

Heero trotted after him and soon fell in step with the undead warlock. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable enough to strike up a conversation with Duo just yet, but he definitely felt more at ease around him than he did around Trowa. It surprised him that Duo was the one to engage him first: "You know, I think Trowa's starting to appreciate you more," he commented idly after about fifteen minutes of silence.

Heero could only stare at Duo incredulously from the corners of his eyes.

Duo laughed, though it sounded more like a sinister cackle. "I think he just views you as a rival for his princely wiles," Duo jibbed, his grin warping the torn flesh in his face grotesquely. "The fact that he stopped to consider we need supplies for the both of you is telling enough," he elaborated. "He would have conveniently forgotten to make sure there was enough for you to eat if he really didn't like you that much."

Heero considered this and supposed it made sense. Besides, Duo knew Trowa better than he did and would thusly know better. "I suppose it's silly to expect much more from the Horde," he muttered to no one in particular.

Duo's hand tightened around his staff as his feet ground to a halt. He was now glaring at Heero with the same fire that had glowed in his eyes that first night they'd encountered each other. The potency of such an expression was a sharp reminder that Duo was not one to be trifled with despite his usually easygoing attitude. "It is Allies like you that ensure there will never be peace in Azeroth," Duo spat acerbically. "Do you forget that I - and even Trowa, no less - once stood proudly with the Alliance? We have no love for your kind anymore because you show none for us."

Heero frowned, but he stood his ground firmly enough. "And you Forsaken would have as all plagued and eradicated from this earth," he argued back. His voice did not waver from its usual, placid tone, even as he accused, "Or do you assume that every human is as morally corrupt as the Scarlet Crusade?"

Duo's face twisted into something that bordered between enraged and defeated. He gripped his staff with both hands as if he was trying to steady himself and then abruptly marched off, his ratty braid swinging behind his back like the tail of an unhappy dog. It was clear Heero had brushed some kind of nerve with his comment, and it left no doubt in his mind that Duo's past was somehow entwined with the Crusade. As he started to cautiously follow Duo, he was left with the bewildering question as to why he even cared.

"Slow yourself!" Heero called after Duo, practically jogging to keep up. He had to admit that he was a little miffed at Duo's sudden distaste, but he supposed he had earned the reaction. "Duo, forgive me."

The words were simple, but they had the staying power of a god. Duo stopped once more and turned around, his expression completely unreadable. "Why should I?" he demanded to know, though his voice remained frighteningly calm. The way he was fingering the top of his staff as if he were trying to draw attention to its power was unnerving.

"Because...." That was as far as Heero got before he trailed off, realizing he really didn't have a good answer to the question. In lieu of anything else, he simply shrugged.

Duo seemed unmoved by the honesty of Heero's plea, though. The corners of his mouth dropped as he said tightly, "You have made it clear that you dislike me and that you fear Trowa. Perhaps his treatment of you is the proper approach after all." He wrinkled his nose and turned on his heel once more: "I don't know," he said; "I suppose I expected something else out of you, Heero Yuy, Champion of Stormwind." And with that, he continued on towards the harbour, clutching his staff in a way that suggested he planned to wield its magic very soon.

Heero wasn't sure which bothered him more: the fact that Duo seemed very likely to set Menethil Harbour aflame, or that he had just lost the approval he never knew he even had with the warlock. Once again, he found himself hurrying to keep up with Duo, though he still wasn't sure what the right words would be. Sans Quatre, he was bad enough trying to keep up social relations with his own people, and it had surprised him that he seemed to be getting along better with Duo and Trowa than he had with another human in a very long time. It was startling clear to him now that such an impression had very little to do with anything he had put into their relations, though.

Soon, they were lingering behind a stand of trees near the bridge that led into the harbour town. Heero wasn't sure what Duo's plan was until he was given a push out into the open. "You still have that pack I gave you," Duo hissed, his annoyance about their earlier exchange still painfully apparent. "Use a couple coins and buy whatever it is you might want. They won't hurt a human like you for walking their streets."

Heero chewed the inside of his cheek and warily made his way towards Menethil. He knew there had to be a catch in those orders, for it was far too simple a command. He hoped that Duo wasn't planning to raze the town as soon as he was inside, though the reality of that prospect was a fairly nerve-wracking thing. He paused to wonder what it was that Duo was trying to test him with, all the while wishing he understood Duo's motivations so he could make a better assessment.

As Heero walked through the town, he found it was strange being amongst men once more. Hardly anyone even spared him a glance, and when they did, it was to try and draw him to their shops and stalls along the docks. He wondered if they could tell who he was or where he'd been - if they would throw him into the sea for commiserating with the Horde. He stopped at a fish vendor, perusing his catch almost blindly as he pondered the finer points of that particular train of thought. It was almost uncanny how depressed he felt about the whole thing.

Later, Heero was still wandering through the town, though he had since purchased some smoked venison and stolen some rather expensive cheese. He had also bought a few skins of sweet goat milk, some sweet bread and dried fish, though he had also pick pocketed a sailor in order to afford it all. He wasn't sure what had driven him to acquire so many of the provisions by underhanded means. He wanted to believe that it was just an exercise to keep his skills sharp, but deep down, he knew it had more to do with impressing his companions. He was loath to admit it, but he did find a kind of pride in winning Trowa's respect, and a comfort in Duo's friendship. He thought he might take the time to even bring back some other bauble for Duo as a truce of sorts: the warlock was probably getting very impatient waiting for him. Unfortunately for Heero, it was another decent idea that wasn't entirely well thought out, and didn't take long for him to realize that he had no clue what sort of trinket Duo might like, the idea of which only served to frustrate him more. He tried to remember the sorts of things he'd given as gifts to people he'd cared about in the past, but it was an unfruitful venture. He ended up leaving town in a most foul mood indeed.

Walking across the bridge found Heero witness to something else that made his blood boil. Near the pathway, about a stone's throw away from where he had left Duo earlier, was a small group of Menethil sailors, all of whom were sneering and jeering loudly. Approaching the cluster of boorish men, Heero was quick to realize that they were surrounding Duo and taking advantage of their ranks to toy with him. The very concept of this drove Heero out of his mind, thinking there was no honour in men who only had courage in numbers and drink.

"Oh, little rotted corpse wants his pet back!" Heero heard one of them croon mean-spiritedly as he approached. He soon realized that the sailor in question was holding Asahi between his thumb and forefinger, dangerously close to squashing the poor insect between them.

"I swear to you, I will feast on your corpse if you hurt him," Duo growled, though he actually sounded more petulant than menacing. Heero's question as to why Duo hadn't just killed them already was quickly answered when he realized that the warlock was tangled up in a fishing net and that one of the sailors had confiscated his staff and wand.

"No' from th'bottom of yon sea, ye won't!" laughed another one, his voice slurred with alcohol. The others joined in his amusement, and a third sailor added, "Or from the bottom of the Scarlet clink!"

More laughter filled the air, but Heero barely heard any of it. Blood was pounding in his ears, deafening him to everything but the chilling whisper of something unseen. 'Don't let them abuse your companion so,' it hissed. 'Protect him; I can help you....' Heero felt a familiar pressure within his chest, so much like the time he had thought those orcs were going to execute him at Tarren Mill, and he found himself unconsciously nodding his head in agreement to the offer. A surge of power suddenly coursed through his body, but it filled him with a strange kind of comfort as his consciousness drained away and his vision stung red.

Leaping forward and brandishing a set of demonic talons, Heero rushed towards the gaggle of sailors, howling like a rabid dog. His body was still human, but there was definitely something very animalistic about his demeanor that alerted the sailors to the fact that he was not an ally. His ears had elongated and there were strange markings streaking his face and body. His mouth was filled with sharp fangs that made his lips bleed when he tried to close it, but it was more than that: he loped and fought like a beast, and spoke only in grunts and roars.

He managed to snatch one of the sailors as he tried to get away, digging his claws into his back and wrenching him back onto the ground. With mindless rage, he pierced the sailor's throat with his talons, pinning him to the earth, pummeling his face with his other hand until the sailor went limp beneath him. But killing one was hardly enough to satisfy the demonic lust welling up inside of Heero, and it wasn't long before he'd launched himself at another one, dragging him down and murdering him in a similar fashion.

Duo, still caught up in the fishing net, could only sit and look on. Though the carnage was actually something that pleased him, the fact that the demon seemed to have just that little bit more control over Heero was unsettling. If the demon took control of Heero every time Heero was blind with rage, it would only be a matter of time before there was nothing left of the rogue in that human shell. He only hoped he would be able to calm Heero once the danger had passed, and, with that thought in mind, quickly set to work at trying to free himself from the net. No longer in danger, Asahi did his best to help as much as an insect could.

By the time Duo had managed to wrest himself free, all the sailors were dead. Heero sat in the middle of a pile of bodies, bathed in blood. His chest heaved as he stared at nothing, almost as if there wasn't anything for him if he couldn't continue killing. Cautiously, Duo approached the scene, unobtrusively prying his staff and wand from the stiff fingers of one of the bodies. Clearly, the sailors picking on Duo had been what had set Heero off, but Duo still wasn't sure if this uncontrolled Heero would still be able to discern that if he got too near. He wondered what the best approach would be, knowing he would have to think of something quickly lest the people from the harbour notice something was terribly amiss.

Deciding to throw caution to the wind, Duo called out to Heero by name, but the word didn't register with the possessed rogue at all. He tried again, this time taking a few steps towards Heero in hopes that he wouldn't catch him off guard. This only half worked, for as he got near, Heero yelped and threw himself at Duo, tackling him to the ground. Duo quickly threw up his skeletal arm as a defense, which Heero chomped down on viciously. His dead body felt nothing, so it didn't really bother him much. "Seems like our little prince is hungry," Duo chuckled as Heero continued to chew at the bones. He patted the top of Heero's head, hoping that Heero would ease back to normalcy if he felt safe and comfortable, though he couldn't help but be concerned that the demonic rage had been so quick to overtake him. The naturalistic way it seemed to settle upon him wasn't very comforting either.

Thankfully, Heero seemed to come around much sooner than he had the last time, and without the uncanny sleeping spell to hinder him. If getting as far from Menethil and the dead sailors wasn't a top priority, Duo might have stopped to become even more disquieted about yet another indicator that the demon was making itself much more at home in Heero's consciousness. However, it took them a bit longer than Duo would have liked to get going, for as soon as Heero was himself again, the first thing he noticed was that he was completely drenched in blood. His breath started to hitch as his fingers dug into the nearest possible thing, which happened to be Duo. "Wh-What is this?" he stammered, soon realizing that they were surrounded by a sea of mutilated bodies.

Duo pushed Heero off his lap rather unceremoniously and got to his feet abruptly. Making a show of dusting off his robes so he wouldn't have to look Heero in the eye, he said casually, "You set the sigil off again, and the demon came out for a romp."

Heero's eyes widened in horror when it dawned upon him what he had done. Seeming a little unsure as to how he ought to proceed, he glanced back at the bridge to the harbour, then at the path that led back to Trowa. His voice barely a whisper, he wondered, "How could I do such a thing?"

Duo fought to keep himself as placid as he could. "That demon feeds on your emotions and uses them against you," he said succinctly. "Clearly, you were... unsettled by whatever those men were doing." He neatly avoided making it known that he had been captive and at the mercy of a lot of drunkards as he bent to pick up the provisions pack, which Heero had discarded when the demon had overtaken him.

Heero frowned at Duo's back as he sauntered off in the direction that led back to Trowa and Heavypaw. He had trained his whole life to keep things such as feelings as suppressed as possible, and it bothered him that something had irritated him enough to allow such a thing to happen. He found it to be a sure sign of weakness and took to mentally berating himself as he followed Duo down the road. He would not let himself be ruled by the twittering whims of his emotions: all that ever left anybody was a wake of heartache and destruction, and had ruined greater men than he on the battlefield.

There was no honour in feeling.

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