Even though she could conjure enough food and water to save some small kingdoms, Luna often found herself in the hot, ugly terrain of battlefields out in the open, alone, as bait for the Alliance.
She nervously tucked one loose strand of blonde hair smoothing about her face behind her ear, touching the several gold piercings there before bringing her hand back to her side. The beach was devoid of any other Alliance, though several pale-skinned death knights had sunk back behind boulders and trees waiting impatiently for the Horde to arrive. Thrall's ship was out at sea currently, rolling with the waves towards their fortress. Not a few hours earlier, the Horde had fought a rough battle in defense of their own keep, though they had ultimately failed.
Still, the Alliance recognized the might of the newest string of soldiers and devised the same old trick of ambush, putting her out to die. She was, again, quite fine with this, as it happened frequently and she was slowly making friends with the spirit healer women who brought her back to life so easily.
The Horde ship landed at the dark dock. With them, seemingly, terrible weather. The clouds had grown fierce and dark and were black against the pale white sand. The wind that had been sweeping her midnight blue robes was now whipping against her skin. She avoided crossing her arms over her chest to warm herself, knowing how vulnerable she already looked. She wasn't about to appear any more like a victim... not for anyone, Alliance or Horde.
Most of them were already on their steeds: a bunch of beasts she only saw in the strangest of circumstances. Colorful hawkstriders with sharp beaks and worse claws, huge storming kodos trampling the wood of the pier, stolen horses turned into blood knights' mounts, sharp biting wolves salivating for more meat, voracious raptors aiming for battle, incredibly ravished skeletal horses pawing flat not knowing why. She barely even had time to consider those riding such violent, ravenous creatures before they were charging at her.
She saw the very slightest glimpse of one's eyes - some Horde's eyes - before she was caught up in all the long legs of former horses and horses, avians and reptiles and canines, all magical and monstrous and riding up to her desiring her fast, bloody death.
Luna was prepared to give it. She had one spell to cast to freeze them all in place so the bombs would go off and the guns had a nice, small space to unleash tremendous bullets. It was easy and simple, but it would cost her.
Her hands moved plainly in the process of the spell, her eyes fixated on the Horde raging towards her. A massive troll dismounted easily in one huge, sloping leap off his raptor. Black dreads, pale sky blue skin, red markings wrecking his face, a greataxe nearly half her size swinging up towards the dark clouds overhead to sweep back down to behead her. She could feel the frost swelling in her chest, in her soul, spreading out across her arms, touching the very tips of her fingers. She was unintentionally leaning back away from the giant weapon, the troll was grinning wide from underneath his black mask.
Lightning rushed in the background. His concentration broke as the Horde ship cracked under the might of the storm, but hers remained. The ice hit the pier, and the various Horde rushing towards her snapped into place instantly. Shock and rage filled the wooden docks as the ship behind them flitted strongly with fire.
Luna waited a second, expecting one to get free and kill her, these huge surprised furious Horde, all dark, ugly, massive, murderous.
But instead something snuck through them all like a shadowy snake and clasped her hard in the chest, crushing down against her cleavage and pushing up from her abdomen. The soft skin there was pinched, but the magic snatched harder onto her soul. As it pulled back, Luna found herself flying through the air, the trapped Horde watching her in surprise and receding fury as the bombs suddenly crashed all around her. Explosions dotted the pier, wood fragments began shooting through the muggy air, blood splashing up from the now horrified Horde.
The hoarse, deep voice of an orc roared through the confusion, and the briefest of glances back allowed her to see him charging past the fiery explosions and the clutching ice to the real field of battle. Tauren and troll alike followed him, elves and undead quicker and more silent in their anger.
Luna stumbled to a stop at the very end of the pier by the burning ship. She stumbled forward and found plate under her hands and an unmoving weight against the right side of her neck. Heat blazed from behind whatever she was against, but the armor was licked with frost.
She knew what had happened finally. Any blood left in her features faded. She numbly looked up with a slow pace that betrayed her understanding.
A frightening but familiar mace was pressed against her neck, the wooden portion causing an easy bruise against her skin with the thick knot of metal far over her shoulder. The black armor she was clinging to in a unwilling embrace led up to silver skin and an metal-blue pair of glowing eyes that were staring down at her.
Her lips parted in surprise but she could find nothing to say.
The death knight stayed still then slowly one of his near-white eyebrows rose up in an unspoken question.
Her mind was trying to come up with a response as her body did some work without her wanting it to: she leaned forward, still stunned from the shadowy pull, further into him without warning and with much of her weight behind it. His spare arm came around her, steadying her against him, naturally without him thinking. Her eyes did not fall from his, and she could clearly tell his sudden though faint embarrassment for doing this. His white brows quirked, and his pale mouth twitched. His arm tightened, however, around her waist, and she was pulled even further against him, so they were firmly in contact at the chest, waist, hips, legs.
She wasn't sure if it was the fire, the battle, or something else, but she went even weaker to the point he was gripping her almost roughly to keep her standing.
The ship behind them finally had enough. She saw something spark, then a new hissing sound hit their ears. The death knight's expression changed dramatically: fear rolled across his features, and his weapon spun off her shoulder down to her waist, where he wrapped his other arm even tighter than the first. He glanced back not even able to see anything then quickly back to her, his brows knitting in sharp, unbelieving confusion. She blinked several times rapidly, trying to figure out something to say, but he moved without needing to hear anything from her.
They hit the cold water a few seconds before the ship exploded. Pieces of plank darted past them, and dull metal bits wicked hot shot through the mess like falling stars. The death knight's armor weighed them down swiftly, but he held onto her with an insane grip she didn't even dare try to escape. His eyes fluttered momentarily as something must of struck him. She saw the sudden trail of blood in the nearly clear water and instinctively moved her face closer to see where the wound was from, even in the water and the chaos. Her gaze found the blood pouring from his lower back, a jagged piece of metal sticking from his dark armor.
The action had taken her from nearly a foot from his face to dangerously close to touching his neck with her chin. She realized this dazedly and began to pull back, but an abrupt push from a huge chunk of the ship knocked her solidly into his cheek. She saw his features wince, and she went to pull away again but instead he turned to her, looking hurt. The space wasn't enough, and her lips softly dragged against his jaw.
She suddenly discovered that death knights, though at least dead possibly undead, could still replicate a blush. The former high elf's eyes widened, his mouth fell open slightly. She could feel his chest push against his armor, and at least one of his arms shook against her waist.
The weight of the water forced her to close her eyes as they were swept farther away from the ship and the dock, both now engulfed in flames. She had no preparation for what followed.
Something pressed against her lips. She needed barely a moment to realize from the cold but tenderness of the touch that it was the death knight's mouth. His kiss became more insistent, and she found herself going even weaker, her lips parting to his push. A flicker of frost against her warm lower lip, and his tongue was touching hers without tentativeness. A second passed of this, then she felt something absolutely new.
The death knight, though not needing to breathe, was pushing air into her lungs so she would survive their insane underwater tumble through the explosions and storm.
And Luna held on for dear existence, doing something between kissing and taking life from a former servant of the Lich King and a once member of the Alliance now soldier of the Horde.
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