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Just Let Me Stay a Little While Longer Ch. 02

By: Allyrion



Below, Jaina Proudmoore and Sylvanas Windrunner lay on the throne together. For some, this might not have been possible; but the Dark Lady of the Forsaken's was easily big enough for the two of them.

And, of course, they were naked.

It was far from the most surprising thing recently observed. He had seen them locked in their power plays, carnal desires, and final fulfillment. Their moans had rent the air, their bodies crying out in pleasure and release.

To many a mortal man, the sight might have been one of immense arousal and excitement. Even to a member of the Forsaken, with all of the drawbacks having a near-undead body could have, it still had quite an effect on Athelion Dallbright. How could it not, featuring these two particularly beautiful participants?

Below, the two women had only recently completed their final lovemaking, rubbing their pussies against each other until they cried out in near mutual orgasm. Their love had been fierce to see then and even now, as both of them lingered in the aftermath.

Athelion had seen them through all of it.

He had always spied upon the Royal Chambers here from afar, rapt with interest in the politics of the court. His father had first sent him to hone his skills against the best trackers the Forsaken had to offer...and perhaps collect a few useful tidbits of court gossip as well.

It had perhaps been natural that Athelion had become quite taken with the principal member of the court. Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen, had always been such a powerful, regal monarch for their kind, the Forsaken. She had maintained her power through numerous trials, and her combat prowess was legendary. Athelion had observed firsthand how she had managed to put down the rebellion of her majordomo Dreadlord Varimathras. Rumours also persisted that she had even run afoul of and bested Arthas himself, the Lich King's own Death Knight champion. No one knew for sure of the last but Sylvanas herself.

To add to her attributes of strength, and cunning, she could add enchanting beauty as well. The Dark Ranger was favoured with all of the natural good looks of her former Elf kind and well beyond even that high standard.

Athelion thought inwardly as he cast a final glance at the two women below. How could he not fall for his Banshee Queen? There were few in Azeroth who could resist such charms. Least of all, it seemed, the proud Archmage of the Kirin Tor, Jaina Proudmoore.

What would he do now? Well, first of all, he couldn't stay here.

For a moment longer, his eyes lingered downwards upon the resting couple with their peach and blue forms, living and...not quite living, intertwined with one another. Then he left without a sound. Sylvanas had almost supernatural senses, Athelion knew, but even she couldn't hear what was not there.

This was not the first time Athelion had snuck in. The Deathguards that protected Sylvanas' Royal Court were quite vigilant, at least compared to the mindless Undead Scourge or the lazy human guards of Stormwind. However, Athelion had known the Undercity since he had been a child. He was also well schooled by his famous father in matters of warcraft and the roguish arts. Every successful spying mission had only served to hone his skills further.

Athelion continued his secret way back from the Royal Quarter of the Undercity, slipping soundlessly through dark paths towards the dwelling he and his family called home. He contemplated on the circumstances of what he had to tell his father, and then considered for the first time not telling him.

Everything he had he owed to his father, the powerful Lord Seneschal of the Royal Court. After Sylvanas had seen her traitorous majordomo Varimathras executed, she had need of a right hand once more. Rather than see the corrupted position filled, Sylvanas had simply created a new one with the same responsibilities. Veryn Dallbright had served ably as Sylvanas' second, defending the Bulwark from the undead as well as serving as a proven commander in Hillsbrad and Silverpine Forest against the Alliance.

How could he not tell him? Athelion was close to his father. Some said that the Forsaken were not capable of love or family, but they remembered their old lives quite well. As a result, family life endured through even the curse of undeath. If Athelion told his father, he did not know what would be the consequences.

The moment of decision was close at hand. Their household loomed near, a former inn, a spacious household but not necessarily as big as it could have been for the Lord Seneschal. Athelion would not allow himself to slow, instead moving at the same swift pace, forcing himself to decide.

With the easy precision and grace of a true professional rogue, Athelion dove off the roof of a nearby house smoothly through the open window of his own home.

He had entered, as he knew he would, back into his own room. The same one as when he had still lived, a long time ago as a simple teenage son and burgeoning rogue.

Briskly, Athelion continued through his room to his father's study. There, behind a desk in the grim darkness suffused only by single tallow candle, was the sunken face and the signature Forsaken bright eyes of his father. Veryn.

A former high-ranked member of SI:6, Veryn Dallbright had been serving as a representative of his service in the former Capital City of Lordaeron when the Undead Scourge had come. Teenage Athelion had remembered the chaos. The human court reeling in shock at the news their longtime King Terenas was dead and his killer, their own beloved Crown Prince Arthas, had turned to evil.

Veryn had died there fighting and, like so many champions of humanity, returned as a member of the Undead Scourge. Athelion and his mother had suffered the same fate, not in the same type of glamorous last stand, but in the almost casual slaughter of the common populace afterward. As mindless thralls the family had endured until Sylvanas had come to the Undercity with fire, steel and her puppet Garithos to free them from the Scourge.

And here they were. Not undead, not living, but something in between. Something less, and something more. Father and son. Forsaken.

"Athelion." His father still had the dark hair he remembered, lank and lifeless, but he was getting old. Age didn't mean much to the Forsaken's lifespan, but the effect of time on limbs and the body was still prevalent. Veryn had been an excellent rogue, but in his continuing debilitating age he had turned instead to the politics. His martial legacy continued through his son.

"Father." Athelion looked at him steadily, and he stood where he had stood hundreds of time before to tell his father what he had seen. His mind was still in turmoil. If he told his father, what would he do with that knowledge? What would ensue? The only alternative was to break his covenant with his own father, to lie to his own blood.

"What do you have to tell me, my son?" Veryn looked up from his parchment, his eyes and curious.

Athelion paused a moment longer, deciding for the final time.

Then he spoke.

***

There had been no greater sense of fulfillment for either of them.

Sylvanas Windrunner was still aglow with her long-desired release, exhausted from her long-awaited double orgasm. Resplendently nude on her Dark Throne, the Banshee Queen of the Forsaken was smiling, an uncommon appearance on that often cold blue face. Her hand snaked upwards to gently stroke the blonde-white head of her lover nestled on her chest.

Jaina Proudmoore, famed sorceress, could still not believe recent events and what she had done. After all her defenses, all of her protestations, the Banshee Queen had won her over. She had not thought it likely, or even possible, and yet here she was, her head pillowed by Sylvanas' more than ample, naked bosom.

Jaina had come as straight-arrow as they could come. Born into nobility as a member of the Proudmoore family, a blossoming young woman with innate magical talent, there seemed to be no stopping her career. Beyond her powers, she was also bestowed with a considerable beauty that drew numerous suitors. No less than the Prince of Quel'Thalas Kael'thas Sunstrider and the young Prince of Lordaeron, Arthas Menethil, had been drawn to the vibrant, vivacious sorceress. Jaina had been happy at the time to share her life with such strong, powerful men. Even more recently, she had even drawn the recent attention of a creature far more powerful than man...

With all that, she had never expected to be with a woman...particularly not this one...

Yet here they were. The Archmage of the Kirin Tor and the Banshee Queen of the Undercity, laying together on the Dark Throne of the Forsaken.

During the ferocity of their lovemaking and flushes of heat through their bodies, the cold air of the Royal Chambers had seemed like such an inconsequential thing. Now that those glorious moments had passed though, reality set in. Jaina gave a little shiver as her body cooled in the unforgiving air. Of course, for Sylvanas, the conditions meant little. But her lover was a living breathing woman, something Sylvanas enjoyed and counted on.

Who else but this beautiful living young woman could have licked her pussy so well? Sent the proud Banshee Queen of the Forsaken into not one but two shattering orgasms? The recent, powerful memories were the reason behind Sylvanas' idle smile.

Settled on the Dark Ranger, her pink nude form gleaming in unrestrained female beauty, Jaina gave a second shiver through closed eyes as another draft swept over the two. Carefully, Sylvanas wrapped one arm around her, gently crushing Jaina's large breasts, while reaching over the throne's side to search for something.

Jaina felt strongly content in that embrace. A feeling of security she had not known since her last encounter with Arthas surrounded her. So much had gone wrong in her life since those idealistic beginnings. Here at long last, she felt safe.

But Jaina was still cold. While Sylvanas' arm was surprisingly warm, it was not enough for her completely naked form. The sorceress smiled to herself ruefully, immersed in recent memory. The Banshee Queen had proved herself living in more than a few ways.

Distantly, she contemplated leaving the wondrous embrace of The Dark Lady of the Forsaken to collect her clothes. Then she felt a curtain of warmth upon her.

Sylvanas had collected her cloak, one of the first garments discarded in her seduction, and settled it upon Jaina. The garment hid the beauty of Jaina Proudmoore's nude form from the Banshee Queen's still hungry red eyes, and Sylvanas felt mild disappointment at being deprived of the lovely sight. Granted, she could still feel the young sorceress' warmth above her, and Sylvanas had a distant, fleeting thought of once again plundering her beauty, to spread her legs and lick at that marvelous blonde pussy again...

But no, enough of that for now. Sylvanas could feel the weariness of her former captive and newfound lover. Jaina was already descending towards sleep. Sylvanas did not feel tiredness herself, but she saw the indications in her young lover.

"Rest, Jaina." Sylvanas purred the words into Jaina's ear on a column of warm breath. "Rest now."

Jaina gave a last little breath and obeyed.

***

Archmage Jaina Proudmoore had almost been afraid to sleep, afraid that it was all a dream from which she would awake away from Sylvanas. However, there was no stopping the weariness that had descended upon her, supplemented by the warmth of the cloak and of Sylvanas herself.

So she slept a dreamless, sound sleep in her lover's arms. Above her, protectively, was Sylvanas, remaining awake with her glowing red eyes observing softly. From time to time the Banshee Queen would brush a stray lock of white-blonde hair from Jaina's face and watch the rise and fall of Jaina's breaths beneath the purple cloak.

Under the gaze, Sylvanas was thinking about a great many things. It was clear that Jaina was more than the conduit of release for her tension of many years. Did Jaina feel the same?

Obviously, Jaina was predisposed to her, but there were many levels of relationships. It had only started mere hours ago. Sylvanas was almost afraid to say those three golden words, the ones that meant so much in a relationship.

She had always had to be strong, and as a result she had almost forgotten what it was to be vulnerable to anyone. No one would follow a feeble Queen of the Forsaken. Factions professing loyalty would turn on her at any sign of weakness. This would be particularly true if Sylvanas confessed her love, to take a living human as consort. It would be chaos.

There was another unescapable fact though; Jaina was dangerously powerful. She was a prominent foe, a leader of the Alliance who had sworn to fight the Horde and by extension Sylvanas.

It would have been quite something for Sylvanas to have broken Jaina Proudmoore's mental defenses, and then turned her into a mindless thrall. It would have been a symbolic victory to make both the Kirin Tor and the Alliance tremble.

It was still possible. How much could she truly trust Jaina? As a semi-living being like Sylvanas herself, Jaina could join her in making a new Forsaken world. The thought was tempting. The young sorceress was now completely helpless before her, sleeping, at least.

To deprive Jaina of life would be to take some of what made the sorceress herself. It had never troubled her before to do it to hundreds of others. But could she kill Jaina? To live a life as Forsaken, together?

As Sylvanas' thoughts conflicted, the hours wiled away. None of the guards dared to challenge their Queen's privacy.

Until, as they still lay naked upon each other on the Dark Throne in each other's arms, one sleeping and the other deep in thought, someone finally came to disturb them.

Sylvanas heard the timid knock at the dark wrought doors of the Royal Chambers. The Banshee Queen broke off of her thoughts to raise her head at the intrusion, her Elf ears perking up in high, thin strands, to denote her interest.

"What is it?" she called in an authoritative tone.

"Pardons, my Queen," came the voice of one of her Deathguards. "But the Lord Seneschal waits without. He begs an audience."

Sylvanas sighed and looked down at the slumbering Jaina below her cloak, her breaths rising and falling gently. "I will receive him later."

"He says it is urgent, milady."

Damn the man. That said, he did not often raise urgent audiences often. Veryn Dallbright was a prudent commander, one of her most able subordinates. Sylvanas had found his loyalty quite strong, relying especially on such after Varimathras' betrayal.

"Very well. I will receive him when I am prepared."

"I will tell him so, my Queen." She could hear the guard break away from the door.

Jaina was still asleep in her arms, obviously quite happy where she was, and Sylvanas once more observed the quiet beauty of the sorceress. "Jaina, my dear." Her hands moved from stroking the white-blonde head to Jaina's shoulders to give her a gentle shake.

The blue eyes blinked open. "Sylvanas." Jaina gave a tired, lazy smile. "I was afraid I would wake and not see you."

"Nothing could ever take away what we did together." Sylvanas slowly removed the cloak from Jaina, exposing her to the cold air once more. The effect woke Jaina quickly and she looked questioningly at the Banshee Queen.

"I need you to get clothed, Jaina, and re-don your chains." Sylvanas looked at Jaina apologetically. "My Lord Seneschal begs an urgent audience. It would look suspect for me to decline."

Jaina paused a moment. The chains in particular troubled her, but she had come too far with Sylvanas to refuse. If the Banshee Queen truly wanted her dead, Jaina was sure she would already be. Instead the Dark Lady of the Forsaken had demonstrated a very different desire...

"Very well, Sylvanas." She made to move up. As Jaina rose, the Banshee Queen met her lips in a tender kiss. It turned into something more, and it took some time before it finally broke, both women letting out a contented sigh as their faces parted.

"Thank you." Sylvanas smiled at her and turned to collect her own discarded garments. Both dressed in silence, until the Banshee Queen collected the chains and placed them once more on Jaina.

As Sylvanas, clad in the Dark Ranger garb of the Queen of the Undercity, sat on her Dark Throne as if born to it, Jaina once again observed the power and beauty of the corrupted Elf-woman. She was so much more powerful than Jaina had ever known; she could feel the authority and strength radiating from her.

"The Lord Seneschal may enter." Sylvanas said with a final, thoughtful look at Jaina on the floor in her chains.

As the dark doors opened, Jaina affected the body language and posture of an exhausted and tortured prisoner. The truth couldn't be more opposite, as Jaina was still buoyed by memories of the night before, loving and being loved in turn by the powerful Banshee Queen herself.

The Lord Seneschal walked in briskly. He was a little stoop-shouldered, with a shock of lifeless dark hair. His face was sunken, his eyes bright. Jaina took care not to look at him too closely, instead affecting a sullen, empty stare at the ground. Even without seeing him though, there was a putrefying, horrible smell of decay about the former man that made Jaina unconsciously wrinkle her nose.

The sorceress guessed it was not uncommon for Undead to be rotting, and that the Forsaken's sense of smell probably incorporated that. But Sylvanas hadn't had that same rotting scent, instead smelling quite pleasant, especially the moist burrow between her thighs...

"My Queen." The Lord Seneschal was flanked by two shambling skeleton guards, encased in patchwork armour from who-knows-what forgotten conflict. He approached and knelt before her, head upraised, while the guards remained standing beside her.

Sylvanas threw her subordinate and his guards a raking, searching glance, as the Deathguards closed the doors behind them, sealing them all inside. Jaina was suddenly afraid for Sylvanas, but the Banshee Queen did not seem perturbed in the slightest.

"What is so urgent, Veryn?" Sylvanas questioned. "We were to meet later, while you are not on campaign."

"I have received news I am most concerned about." The Lord Seneschal threw a small glance at the seemingly feeble, sunken prisoner on the floor in chains off to the side of the throne.

"And what news is this, Veryn?" Sylvanas spoke the words idly, but kept an edge of iron on them. As if to emphasize this, she stroked the Dark Ranger bow propped against the throne, a gesture Jaina remembered from their first, glorious meeting.

"It has to do with the prisoner." Veryn looked over at Jaina's shrunken form. "I think she has been doing more than meets the eye."

"Do you now..." The Dark Lady's blue arm continued stroking almost sensually up and down the bow.

"Archmages are dangerous and cunning foes. I have seen them in the field firsthand, and their magics are formidable. This one should be respected even more; she is the leader of the Kirin Tor itself. My Queen, I think she is a spy, sent here to bewitch us. And..." Veryn paused, then pressed on resolutely. "I think she has bewitched you."

At the last, Veryn leapt forward with surprising speed for so insignificant of a figure. It happened so fast Jaina could not react until a sharp, wicked looking blade was pressed against her throat. She felt a sudden jolt of terror spread through her body.

Sylvanas had moved equally quickly, drawing her bow and stringing an arrow at Veryn. The two skeleton guards, armoured in their bleak, dinted plate, moved threateningly to the Banshee Queen, weapons ready.

"My Queen, I am sorry," Veryn apologized. "I know it is treason to bare steel on you. But this creature..." He roughly drew Jaina's face upwards, and the point of the dagger dug deeper into the soft skin of her throat. "This creature threatens both you and by extension the realm."


Just Let Me Stay a Little While Longer Ch. 02



"You have made a dangerous mistake, Veryn." Sylvanas spoke the words almost idly, her bow drawn with the dark, sinister arrow pointed at her subordinate.

"I have it that you were seen with this feeble woman," Veryn commented. "Your...proclivities were observed. My Banshee Queen would never do such a thing, not with someone still stained with the curse of life."

"You do not know me at all," Sylvanas spoke quietly, confidently. Evident though, beneath the authoritative tones was the note of regret. "You have done much for me, Veryn. You could still do so much more. I will give you one last chance in recognition of your leal service. Back away and leave us."

"I have gone too far to believe that," Veryn replied. "And a bewitched Queen would say the same. I cannot trust your words, Sylvanas. But there is one way to be certain. By killing the prisoner and freeing you. The Queen I know would not disapprove of such a measure."

Sylvanas considered the words, studying her Lord Seneschal carefully. The she quietly said, "So be it," and nodded her assent.

Jaina felt the sudden emotion of betrayal and her fury grew in her, sharpening her magical talents, even as the blade tightened at her throat.

And then all hell broke loose.

Sylvanas threw the bow aside. The Queen of the Forsaken, of all people, knew how useless arrows were for killing the Undead. Piercing an eye or a limb meant nothing to those bereft of life. Instead she produced a formidable blade from seemingly nowhere and threw it in a flat, horizontal arc right at Jaina.

The spinning blade was thrown at such speed that Jaina did not have time to react other than feeling an immense sadness and acceptance of her fate. Then the blade struck home. The dagger at her throat fell and she heard a thump behind her.

Jaina's eyes widened with realization and her swirling emotions manifested in the summoning of two water elementals near Sylvanas. Water sprang from nowhere into the shape of two towering waves, instantly moistening the air and unleashing a terrifying loud noise.

The two skeletons, created to protect their master, raised their primitive weapons to strike at Sylvanas from behind. As the Dark Lady spun to confront them, the two water elementals absorbed the blows meant for her, driving with crushing force into both of the monstrosities. The skeletons endured for a moment, each trapped inside a bizarre column of water. Then the force became too much and they broke apart, pieces of bone and armor dissipating inside the roaring, vertical current.

Jaina watched her creations at work, her body flush with excitement and tension at her near death scenario. She knew what lay behind her but still looked there to see the body. What caught the eye first was the separated head, one that had so recently been right next to her own. Looking at the grisly sight, Jaina saw that the eyes were facing up, now utterly devoid of the unearthly light of the Forsaken.

Veryn Dallbright, Lord Seneschal of the Royal Court of the Undercity, lay decapitated, dead at his own liege's hand.

For a moment both women stood in silence. Jaina looked from the corpse to Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen's red eyes met the blue and her face softened. There was a curious look there, a sense of resolution and decision...and more than a little sadness.

"Not quite what I expected," Sylvanas spoke into the silence. The Banshee Queen turned from Jaina's eyes to regard the two water elemental creations still towering over her, a pile of armoured bones at their feet. "These are quite curious and useful creations. I thought you needed your staff to create them, though."

"Most Archmages do," Jaina said glibly. The flood of emotion she was feeling began to subside. The terror of betrayal, and exultation of being still alive...

"But not you." Sylvanas favoured the young sorceress with a smile. "I clearly chose well."

The Banshee Queen produced a second blade and slashed casually, fatally, at the water elementals. Beings of pure water are almost impervious to common steel, but Sylvanas' dual blades were far more than that. Imbued with mysterious dark magic, they cleaved through each of the summoned creatures, each howling one last time and dissipating. The hurricane of sound they made vanished with them.

The manacled Jaina remained where she was, as she studied the Banshee Queen warily.

"What now, Sylvanas?" Jaina finally asked, afraid of the answer.

Sylvanas regarded her thoughtfully. "I am not sure," she confessed, voice softening to the tone she reserved for Jaina. "But whatever we do, we will do together."

She strode forth and unchained Jaina again. As she strode toward her, Jaina once again could not help but notice the Dark Lady of the Forsaken's sensual stride. As Sylvanas drew away with the key, Jaina caught the blue face of the Banshee Queen and kissed her passionately, fearlessly, devotedly.

When they broke apart, they regarded each other levelly. "I love you, Sylvanas Windrunner," Jaina confessed, head still swimming with her near brushes with death.

Sylvanas paused a moment at the strong words, studying the lovely face of Jaina Proudmoore for a moment, then hurtled into the future.

"I love you too, Jaina Proudmoore."

***

"Guards. Come in and clean up this mess."

The reaction to the command of the Banshee Queen was swift. With a noisy creak, the doors of the Royal Chamber opened yet again to admit her Deathguards. None of them spoke any word of the curiousness of the situation, such as the nature of the wet bones, or even the way their Lord Seneschal lay decapitated on the ground.

Jaina watched the Forsaken guards clean up the aftermath of their brief battle, still affecting her guise as the broken, weakened prisoner. Of course, none of the Deathguard had it in them to challenge their own Banshee Queen and study Jaina closer.

Sylvanas had returned to the Dark Throne. One leg was thrown casually over the other, exposing her sensuous thigh high leather boots, but that was the only part of her appearance that gave her any warmth. Her glowing red eyes shone coldly as she studied the Deathguards as they went about their work, and none of them dared to return that stare.

Only one figure in the room had the courage to look directly at the Dark Lady of the Forsaken. Jaina Proudmoore, Archmage of the Kirin Tor, raised her blue eyes from the floor to give Sylvanas a furtive look. Their eyes met, and Sylvanas' look flickered away from its coldness for a brief moment, giving Jaina a small secretive smile that was somehow full of promise. Jaina flushed at that and cast her eyes down again.

It didn't take long. Two Deathguards together lifted Veryn Dallbright's corpse, and one more each for the pile of wet bones and armour that marked his two former guards.

"Leave us." Sylvanas' voice rang, and the Deathguards departed with their burdens, closing the door behind them.

Jaina looked up at the Banshee Queen after waiting a moment further. "Sylvanas, I am sorry-"

The Dark Lady of the Forsaken interrupted the sorceress' apology. "I am too, Jaina. But I made my own decisions that led to this situation. The fault does not lie with you."

'Even so..." Jaina paused. "He was your Lord Seneschal."

"I will find another." Sylvanas said the words casually, easily, her red eyes burning into Jaina's. "I am more curious as to how he discovered us in here. I will need to be more vigilant."

"Besides-" Sylvanas gave her a bright smile, a full-fledged version of the secretive one she had given Jaina earlier. "You are very special, Jaina. I would do everything I have done again if I had to."

Jaina flushed at that. She did not break off her stare this time.

"He would have killed me," Jaina said.

"He would have tried," Sylvanas countered confidently. "But I never doubted the fact that it would be otherwise."

"You saved my life," Jaina pressed on. "Not just once now, but twice. You could have killed me as a prisoner yourself, as a normal act of war. Or, if your conscience was stronger, simply been a little too slow and let Veryn cut my throat."

Sylvanas looked amused at that. "Conscience! Jaina, sometimes I remember you are so very young and innocent."

Jaina's mouth tightened at the mild rebuke, but Sylvanas' next words softened the blow. "That's why I am so fond of you though. You are so different from this cold place, where only strength and authority rules."

"I think there is still a conscience in you, Sylvanas," Jaina pressed on resolutely. "You may have had to hide it, keep it buried deep within you...but you are more than merely Undead. I see that now, more than anyone."

There was a silence.

Sylvanas' red eyes glowed. "There's not much hope for me Jaina; but there is some yet for you."

The Dark Ranger rose to her feet, giving Jaina a better look at her resplendent form. It was still quite a sight, even for the young sorceress who had recently seen Sylvanas in all of her naked glory.

This had a different appeal all of its own. The corrupted Elvish garments of power, the cowled hood, the power, authority and danger that radiated from this Queen of the Banshees.

"After all, if I had let Veryn kill you," Sylvanas said in a tone so seductive it almost sent Jaina to shivers. "There would be no one else to lick my pussy near so well."

Perhaps there was a bit of something less docile in Jaina, Sylvanas reflected. At her last words, Jaina let out a growl, her cheeks flushed. The blonde sorceress drove up off her knees, her hands still manacled. The chain clanked on the ground as the Archmage drove forward resolutely toward the Dark Throne, and drove her face into Sylvanas' smirking one, locking lips once again with the Banshee Queen.

A lot of emotion can be conveyed with a kiss, particularly a long one with a pair of lusty, mutually desiring participants. Jaina let her recent emotions come to the fore; fury, hopelessness, lust, love and hope. Sylvanas' cold mask broke as she fell into the nature of the kiss, her lips conveying its own aching, urgent desire of unfulfilled lust.

Their lips broke apart at last. Jaina was flushed, the Banshee Queen's own features warmer than the Archmage had ever seen outside of their private sessions. Quickly, deftly, the Dark Ranger produced the key to the shackles, unchaining Jaina and throwing them carelessly onto the floor next to them.

"It appears you are rested from last night, young sorceress," Sylvanas said playfully. "But who shall be first?"

"You saved me," Jaina said, equally coy. "A gorgeous woman once told me that she would reward me for my services. I think it is time I rewarded her."

Sylvanas smirked at that remembrance of their first turbulent encounter. She began to tug again at her breastplate and various garments but Jaina stopped her. "No," the Archmage said quietly. "I like you like this."

"Come now, my dear, this is no way for us to have fun," Sylvanas said crossly.

"You look so fantastic as the Banshee Queen," Jaina said. "So confident, such a leader...it turns me on, Sylvanas."

"What a pity," the Dark Lady of the Forsaken said playfully. "I do so prefer to be naked."

"Well, I'll make one small concession." Jaina looked into those red eyes for a moment, then cast her glance downwards to between Sylvanas' legs. "Your pants can come off. I want to taste that lovely pussy again. But keep the boots on. I like those."

"You drive a hard bargain, young sorceress." Sylvanas favoured her with the same brilliant smile, then tugged her pants down again in a smooth motion, lifting one booted foot and then the other out of the puddle it made on the floor.

Jaina watched with rapt attention as the Banshee Queen exposed herself once again. Despite being cursed by Undeath, Sylvanas had been given the rare gift of returning to her former body, which retained her lustrous Elvish blonde hair. This was particularly true between the Dark Ranger's thighs, where a nest of soft curly blonde hair remained.

Of course, Jaina found herself bereft of the other views she vividly recalled of the Banshee Queen, the large blue breasts, the lush curves of the hip that could not be totally hidden by the form-fitting armor of the Dark Lady of the Forsaken. But there was some compensation; other than being pantless, the Dark Ranger looked every image of the powerful figure Jaina had heard much about and now seen firsthand.

"Is this what you wanted, Jaina?" Sylvanas said playfully. In response, Jaina gently maneuvered one of her hands downward. The Banshee Queen sighed as Jaina's soft hand tickled down her exposed flesh at chest and belly, caressing between her armoured breasts. Eventually, the hand maneuvered through Sylvanas' soft downy blonde pubic hair, then further to rest between the Dark Lady's thighs.

More than anything, Jaina wanted to again taste that beautiful pussy of Sylvanas Windrunner, but she also felt the desire to "test the waters" first. She needn't have bothered. Between the legs, Sylvanas was just as wet as she had been the night before, and the Banshee Queen's red eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement.

Even so, Jaina made herself wait as she slid a finger into that moist cave. Sylvanas let out a contented sigh, her voice strangely amplified by her status as a Forsaken, echoing beyond the human norm. Jaina was no stranger to that. She drew her finger out again, soaking with the Dark Ranger's fluids, and then slid it back in again, this time adding a second.

Eventually, Jaina had all her fingers thrust into the wet, inviting pussy of Sylvanas Windrunner. The former Elf gave another moan as one particularly violent fingering sent her into a rush of pleasure. Jaina kept diligently at her work, reflecting that at least this position let her look into Sylvanas' face with her own.

Their faces were close enough that their breath warmed the other. The fact that the two were of a height only added to the feeling of compatibility. Jaina thrust in and out, her blue eyes watching the play of emotions on Sylvanas' face as it contorted in pleasure.

Eventually, the Banshee Queen began to moan as her pussy was fingered over and over by Jaina. The sorceress felt a rush of contentment, fondness, and power rush into her at the reaction. Sylvanas' armored form heaved in deep, pleasurable breaths of excitement. Jaina continued to plunder the other's depths for a moment more before finally sliding her moist hand out.

Sylvanas looked down as the glistening hand of her lover drew back from her moist center. Her red eyes met Jaina's as the sorceress brought the hand slowly, carefully, up to her mouth. The pink lips opened wide to admit her first finger, Jaina sucking softy, lewdly at her own digit to taste the fluids of her lover that covered it.

There was nothing in Azeroth that could have distracted Sylvanas from that sight as she watched Jaina taste her cunt juices with a look of relish and rapture. The Dark Ranger let to let out a low, echoing moan at the sight, unable to stay still any longer. "Jaina...I need you...right now..."

Sylvanas pushed Jaina downwards onto her Dark Throne. Fortunately, the symbol of Forsaken power was big enough that Jaina could lie down on her back comfortably, only her legs past her knees extending beyond its clutches. The Banshee Queen sighed as she looked down at the young sorceress' own sweet young form, clothed in its mage's robes that did not manage to fully obscure the lithe female form or the sorceress' large round breasts. If only she had taken the time to remove Jaina's clothing.

There was no more patience in Sylvanas now, though, not after Jaina's early ministrations. She had wanted this from the very beginning, and now the young sorceress had fingered her into even greater desire. The Dark Lady braced her legs on the armrests of her throne, her body lowering itself towards the glowing, beautiful face below.

Jaina smiled, looking upwards. She was treated to a glorious, uninhibited view of the descending pussy of Sylvanas, still visibly wet from her previous ministrations. She could see past it as well, up the curve of the Banshee Queen's armoured breasts to her face, looking downwards raptly with her red eyes. The Elf ears were fully extended, the blonde hair framing Sylvanas' face magnificently.

The young sorceress could almost not help herself. A pink tongue snaked out between her lips in preparation, Jaina's blue eyes closing as she awaited the Dark Ranger's arrival. Sylvanas Windrunner let her eyes travel down Jaina's gorgeous clad form again, the young face the very picture of human beauty, the tender nose, blue eyes closed in anticipation, lips parted by the tongue that the Banshee Queen wanted to feel more than anything.

Sylvanas paused with her resplendent nude form poised right above that extended tongue. The Banshee Queen's face looked downwards at Jaina's ready face and smiled wickedly.

"Excellent," the Dark Lady of the Forsaken said in her iron, authoritative tones, sending a thrill of excitement through Jaina's body. "Lick my pussy. That is a royal command, sorceress."

Without waiting a single aching moment further, Sylvanas finally completed her decent, locking her dripping cunt onto the mouth and face of Jaina Proudmoore as if the two had been designed for it.

The position was not totally comfortable for either party. Jaina's legs extended off the throne at the knees, leaving them dangling over the edge. Sylvanas had to brace her own legs on the armrests of her throne, requiring significant strength. Quickly both women were lost to such worldly concerns in their respective pleasures. For Sylvanas, there was only the feeling of Jaina's tongue swirling within her, fondness burgeoning within her for the lovely Archmage. The sorceress continued her ministrations, demonstrating her own affection for the Banshee Queen who had saved her life to become her most recent lover.

Jaina's tongue flicked into Sylvanas again and again, the sorceress' blue eyes repeatedly opening to study her delightful situation and closing again in pleasure. Sylvanas observed from above, studying the blonde head between her thighs with her hungry red eyes. One particularly strong stroke made the Banshee Queen moan, her leg muscles standing out like cords as they sustained her weight. Jaina reflected that she must have quite a bit of strength to hold herself up like that. Sylvanas was no slouch in the athletic department, it seemed.

Jaina continued to lick at the Banshee Queen's pussy perched wonderfully on her face. Both parties were lost in their pleasure, in timeless, indescribable joy. Sylvanas reached a new height of rapture as Jaina unrestrainedly pushed her tongue deeply inside her lover's pussy, the sorceress' fingers also at furious work around the tongue. "Jaina...I am so...very...close..." Sylvanas panted.

The blonde sorceress contemplated on that. It seemed the proud, strong Banshee Queen was about to cum powerfully on Jaina's face and tongue. That enamouring thought only made Jaina smile wider, seen with delight by her lover above, as the Archmage kept up her efforts, plunging her tongue deeply inside Sylvanas.

As Sylvanas felt the sorceress' tongue again pierce full length into her, that familiar sensation suddenly changed as Jaina suddenly locked her mouth on every bit of the Banshee Queen's pussy she could find and sucked furiously. There was nothing Sylvanas could do at that absolutely magical sensation other than explode in orgasm, sending a wave of her fluids into the blonde sorceress' hungry mouth below her. Louder than anything Jaina had heard from Sylvanas yet, the Banshee Queen let out a screech to mark her own furious climax.

Jaina's eyes shot open to study the powerful armoured figure writhing in orgasm above her. The blonde hair tossed this side and that, the red eyes closed, then opening again as it sensed the blue eyed gaze. Their eyes locked together as Sylvanas continued spasming out her exquisite climax into Jaina's mouth, who kept sucking furiously, her mouth unyielding as it continued to take every bit of the Banshee Queen's essence it could find. That wonderful suction only served to make Sylvanas' orgasm go on longer than any she could remember.




Just Let Me Stay a Little While Longer Ch. 02



"Oh...Jaina..." Sylvanas panted as the greater fury of her release passed. Aftershocks continued, a testament to the power of her climax, but Jaina simply would not stop. The young sorceress breathed through her nose, the only way she could with her mouth glued to Sylvanas' pussy, the gentle warm exhalations into the Banshee Queen's pussy only extending Sylvanas' delight.

Then that wonderful experience was finally over. Sylvanas had fallen bonelessly onto the armrests, her form no longer held up rigidly but instead falling in post-orgasmic bliss. Incredulous, the Banshee Queen still saw Jaina's mouth locked onto her pussy, her blue eyes staring upwards at her in mixed affection, mischief and delight. Jaina hadn't simply pleasured her; she had sucked up every last bit of Sylvanas' most powerful orgasm, leaving not a drop to be wasted. Even now the young sorceress was still there, sucking away, devotedly, dutifully.

"Enough, Jaina," Sylvanas panted as her cunt reached, finally, a measure of overstimulation. Jaina smiled widely again and came off the Banshee Queen's pussy with a soft pop. The blonde Archmage's lips were glistening, and her mouth opened wide to show an amount of clear juices that would not shame a male ejaculation.

"I..." Sylvanas studied the sight for a sight for a moment, and reflected on the unyielding devotion the sorceress had just demonstrated. "I...love you, Jaina Proudmoore."

The Banshee Queen removed herself from her lovely perch on Jaina's mouth and even further off the armrests. She stood above the sorceress for a moment as Jaina laid backwards on the Dark Throne, tongue working inside her mouth, analyzing the newfound deposit of tasty fluids, then swallowing lewdly with relish. Sylvanas let herself descend gently forward. Jaina's body was wonderfully warm and her breasts pillowed her own as Sylvanas' lips locked with the fellow blonde, getting a good taste of herself as the Archmage returned the kiss passionately.

Sylvanas enjoyed the taste of Jaina's sweet lips a moment more, then broke then kiss. The Dark Lady's blonde locks tumbled around her face as she descended lower down Jaina's body, between the pair of clothed breasts. Jaina might like Sylvanas in her outfit of rule, the Banshee Queen thought to herself, but to her there was one way that Jaina looked best.

Sylvanas dug her hands into Jaina's robes and thrust them open to fully expose the glorious nude form of the young blonde sorceress once more.

Carefully, the Banshee Queen kissed between the two heaving breasts, their nipples fully erect in the air. Jaina sighed as the beautiful Sylvanas continued her journey down her young female form until she reached her destination, kissing between her own matching blonde pubic hair.

Sylvanas' blue face and glowing red eyes studied between Jaina's legs for a moment, the Elf ears extended and twitching. Then a pair of blue arms wound themselves into Jaina's legs, gently pushing them apart. Jaina hardly resisted as her legs opened outwards, exposing her pussy fully for Sylvanas.

There was a pause as Sylvanas studied the sight of the sorceress' lovely and visibly aroused pussy, and then she looked up to Jaina with her burning red-eyed stare. Her iron tones usually reserved for her subjects once again came into her voice.

"I want you. I will have you."

Then Sylvanas buried her head into Jaina Proudmoore's pussy, eliciting a moan of pleasure from the sorceress.

The Banshee Queen was more experienced with her cunnilingus than her partner and it showed. Jaina's body quickly began to heave at the pleasurable sensations Sylvanas inflicted upon her. The Dark Lady knew that it was not always the depth of penetration that mattered, but the difference of strokes, the variation and the technique. Sylvanas was only too pleased to demonstrate on her willing test subject, as she flicked her head around that moist pussy. Jaina cried out and wound her arms downward onto Sylvanas' head, fingers wound into those beautiful framing blonde locks she loved so much.

The Dark Ranger continued her exquisite efforts and Jaina knew that she was already close to her orgasm, far sooner than it had taken for Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen was simply too skillful, and the emotions of the day had lowered her inhibitions. Not only that, the sweet recent memory of the powerful Sylvanas Windrunner shuddering in her own orgasm above her was an endearing and inflaming one. Jaina was so close, but she clung onto the precipice as best she could. The blonde sorceress studied the wiggling Elf ears and blue face between her legs, and sighed at the enamouring sight. She could not possibly last much longer in such exquisite rapture.

There came a sudden pop behind Sylvanas, of displaced air. The Banshee Queen and her Archmage lover were both far too distracted to notice it at first, wrapped up instead in their pleasures. But Jaina opened her eyes to see a familiar male figure, studying the scene behind the unaware Sylvanas. There was a sudden rush of adrenaline and fear inside Jaina, but that only served to send her even closer to her climax, too close to the edge to stop herself. Even with the knowledge of who was observing them, the young blonde sorceress cried out and came with an almost explosive, shuddering power.

The Banshee Queen's Elf ears twitched at that as she tasted her lover's fierce orgasm and her mouth drove forward. Returning the favour to her lover, Sylvanas Windrunner locked her lips on the beautiful spasming pussy of Jaina Proudmoore sucked for all she was worth. The feeling was incomparable. The sight of the newcomer was a distant memory for Jaina as she exploded in ecstasy, screaming as she sent what must have been a veritable tide of her juices into the Dark Lady of the Forsaken's willing mouth.

Jaina's body shuddered in rapture, contorting in her climax, white-blonde hair shaking. Sylvanas looked up with red eyes and studied the sight of Jaina Proudmoore in her orgasmic throes with a smile, keeping her mouth against the young sorceress' pussy in uncompromising sucking. Jaina could not control herself for many seconds as she plunged into the deep abyss of her orgasm.

The young blonde soreress' legs eventually went slack around Sylvanas' head. Jaina panted, her eyes closed, still enjoying the sensation of the Banshee Queen's mouth on her most sensitive area. Then Jaina's eyes opened, remembering the observing man still there, watching the situation with an unreadable expression on his face.

Jaina's eyes met the stranger's and she let out a startled gasp. Immediately, the Banshee Queen knew something was amiss, spinning around to grab for her bow next to the throne. In an instant a dark arrow was pointed at the intruder by one of the most formidable archers in Azeroth. The Dark Ranger looked fierce, even with her blue mouth gleaming with Jaina's fluids and the exposed legs of her pantless form. Squarely behind her, protected by Sylvanas, was Jaina basking in her recent orgasm, her sweat-gleaming form lying on the Dark Throne.

The man made no move to stop the Banshee Queen. There was a fierceness and fury Jaina had not often seen on Sylvanas' face as she confronted the intruder. "Who are you? How did you get in here? What do you want?"

The man made no reply except to look past Sylvanas at Jaina. Jaina cleared her throat, her world and body still spinning from her recent, powerful orgasm.

"Sylvanas Windrunner, Banshee Queen of the Forsaken," Jaina said, her voice sheepish, low, and exhausted.

"Meet Kalecgos, leader of the Blue Dragonflight and Aspect of Magic."

Jaina Proudmoore paused, and completed her introduction.

"My boyfriend."



Just Let Me Stay a Little While Longer Ch. 03



Silence reigned in the Royal Chambers of the Undercity.

All three parties continued their standoff for a long, enduring moment as Sylvanas contemplated Jaina's last words. The former Elf's face was a still mask as she kept the bow pointed at the humanoid dragon for a moment further, pondering.

Kalecgos was equally motionless, his human form not an uncomely one. What gave his true nature away though were the shining brilliantly eyes, a shade of colour so pure that they almost hurt to look at. There radiated a sense of power from him that Sylvanas had never known from any creature she had ever met. Even Arthas.

It seemed that Jaina Proudmoore was quite as entrancing to members of the opposite sex as well. Even dragonkin. A rush of jealousy flooded inside Sylvanas.

Of all the things to have to compete against for the young sorceress' attentions, it had to be a dragon, the one and only Aspect of Magic.

Jaina's naked form was still splayed on the Dark Throne. The sorceress began to realize the absurdity of her situation and rose to grab her nearby clothes on wobbly, unsteady legs.

Sylvanas observed her lover's difficulty with satisfaction. Clearly, Jaina had had a powerful enough orgasm at her hands (or, more accurately, mouth) to leave her still recovering. The Banshee Queen peripherally watched the sorceress finally clothe herself and turned back to the two.

"Kalec, I-" Jaina began.

Kalecgos cut her off. His voice thundered loudly, but Sylvanas knew that no one could hear it but them. If the dragon could appear at will inside the very center of Forsaken power, he was as powerful as she feared the Aspect of Magic could be. There would be no interruptions.

"I came as soon as I had heard you were captured, Jaina," Kalec intoned. It was not fair to say he was merely speaking, for that did not do it justice. The voice reverberated with power, eyes shining with pure light. "I would not leave you to the devices of these undead. Not you."

He paused. "And here I stand now, a witness to this." His voice took on an edge of tiredness, but there was more than a little anger in it. "Explain yourself. If you dare."

Sylvanas met the radiating power of the dragon and his obvious fury with no trace of fear. The Banshee Queen did not often meet her peers in power, and even less often those that exceeded hers. Even with that thought, Sylvanas did not back down, her eyes unleashing a burning red stare at the humanoid dragon before her.

"Sylvanas." Jaina said softly.

The Dark Lady did not reply at first, keeping her eyes locked on Kalecgos, the two glaring at each other with unreadable, steady expressions. Neither would break, continuously striving for dominance over the other.

Sylvanas Windrunner would be damned if she showed any signs of fear to this creature. Jaina was hers, and she knew the young sorceress reciprocated the feelings...the evidence was only mounting.

"What is it, Jaina." Sylvanas finally replied, levelly.

"Lower your bow."

Sylvanas hesitated. Then with a single smooth gesture she dropped her weapon, which drew no reaction from Kalecgos.

The Banshee Queen moved to the side, addressing her own bottomless nature by picking up her hastily discarded clothing. While Jaina's own movements had been slow and almost guilty, Sylvanas' own moves were efficient, obvious, and defiant.

When she too was clad once more, the Dark Ranger finally turned to confront Kalecgos.

"You may have been her former lover, dragon," Sylvanas said. "But she loves another now. You cannot deprive her of the choice of her heart. If you truly love her-"

Kalecgos made a casual, slashing gesture at chest level. Almost immediately, a cone of azure light surrounded the Banshee Queen, a circle of entrapping magic that cut off her words and levitated her bizarrely into the air. Jaina cried out.

"Don't hurt her, Kalec. Please!"

"She will not be harmed. I merely mean to spare us from her feeble diatribe." Kalecgos looked away from the imprisoned Sylvanas to the young blonde sorceress. "You cannot trust her, or her words, Jaina. She is undead."

"She is Forsaken, that much is true," Jaina said. "There is a difference."

Kalecgos considered the words for a moment. "Why do you defend her?"

Jaina hesitated. "She saved my life, Kalec. More than once."

"Saved your life?" the humanoid dragon laughed, a horrifying sound full of scorn. "She is an enemy that had you captured. Not only that, but now she has somehow twisted your mind. You were a prisoner Jaina, and now you defend your captor. Do you understand how ridiculous you sound?"

Kalecgos looked to Sylvanas as the Banshee Queen remained immobile, levitating, and spoke again.

"I easily have the power to remove you from this place. To protect you from the likes of this Banshee Queen. Of our relationship, I am not sure of the damage. But I owe you at least as much as making sure you are safe."

Jaina looked at Kalecgos, pleadingly. "You would be making me as much a prisoner as I was when I first came here, Kalec. I want to be here. With Sylvanas. There is much more to her than even you know, I have seen it myself."

The young sorceress paused and then plunged irrevocably forward. "I love her."

The words were strong. Kalecgos' expression changed from one of anger and scorn to one more innocent, written plainly across his face.

'Why, Jaina," Kalecgos said softly. "I thought we had found joy with each other."

Jaina looked into his face apologetically. "We did Kalec. The times we had were amazing. But now it is time to move on."

"You think I will simply leave you here as slave to these Forsaken?"

Jaina gave him a fierce look. "I am no slave. And you will leave us if you love me, Kalec. This is what I want."

Kalecgos' expression changed and Jaina suddenly felt herself as if she were being scanned, a tingling that reached every corner of her body.

"There is no enchantment on you, Jaina," Kalecgos said quizzically. "Your love is pure."

"It is."

Kalecgos looked only all the sadder, and Jaina felt herself wanting to comfort him, but she knew she couldn't. "It was always your choice to be with me, and mine to be with you, Jaina. If this is truly what you want..."

Jaina looked at him and tears were in her eyes. "I'm sorry Kalecgos. For what this is doing to you. You do not deserve this."

"I am sorry too." Kalecgos sighed and repeated his earlier slashing gesture. The column of light around the Banshee Queen vanished. Sylvanas fell lightly on her feet, her expression unreadable.

The Dark Ranger felt the curious sensation as the dragon analyzed her as well with a piercing stare.

"For what it is worth, she loves you as well, Jaina." Kalecgos said the words slowly, as if they pained him. "Pure love between two souls is a rare and precious gift in this world."

"You will take care of her, Banshee Queen." It was a calmly spoken statement, but one full of menace. "If you do not, I will be back. For you. I promise you that."

Sylvanas looked defiantly at him. "I will protect Jaina. You have my word, on everything left I hold dear."

He cast one final, regretful, lingering glance at Jaina.

"I still love you Jaina. Be very careful in this dark place. This Forsaken Queen herself may not be enough to protect you from the dangers that approach even at this very moment."

With these prophetic, doom-filled words, Kalecgos popped out of existence as swiftly as he had come, leaving nothing behind but a faint rush of displaced air.

Jaina did not realize it, but tears were filling her eyes. The young sorceress let out a sob, and she fell to her knees, bringing her hands up to stem the flow.

Kalecgos had been good to her. She had been happy in his arms, in his power. He had loved her enough to leave her when he knew it was what she wanted.

She had hurt him, hurt the leader of the Blue Dragonflight and the Aspect of Magic himself. Jaina felt an immense sense of guilt for it.

Between her crying, she heard soft footsteps behind her. Then a gauntleted hand touched her shoulder.

Jaina tensed for just a moment, looking back up at Sylvanas. The Banshee Queen bore a sympathetic expression, all the more notable for how infrequently it graced her delicate pale blue face. Her often blazing red eyes somehow conveyed a softness as it met Jaina's tear-filled blue ones.

For once they did not kiss, they did not shake in mutual desire. Sylvanas Windrunner simply lifted the sobbing Jaina Proudmoore and hugged her, wrapping her surprisingly strong arms around the young sorceress.

Jaina returned the embrace, her body still shaking, crying into Sylvanas' shoulder. The Dark Lady of the Forsaken let the emotions flow from her lover.

Finally, Jaina stilled. Her eyes looked upwards at Sylvanas, still wet.

"Sylvanas," she said quietly.

"Yes, Jaina?" the Banshee Queen replied just as softly.

"Do you ever regret this? How we feel about each other?" Jaina looked so insecure, so human and vulnerable. "It has cost both of us so much."

Sylvanas considered for a moment, and spoke a single word with iron resolve.

"Never."

Jaina felt a rush of emotion surge into her at that, the sensation cutting through her haze of uncertainty and vulnerability.

The Banshee Queen looked at her young human lover and pressed on.

"I would do every decision I have made again if I had the choice. What we have between us is true, Kalecgos said as much. I do not regret how we feel."

"You said you loved me, Jaina Proudmoore. And I love you too." Sylvanas brought her face forward into the tear-stained one and the young sorceress returned the kiss passionately, her arms snaking around the Banshee Queen's regal form.

Dimly, Jaina was aware of the armoured breasts of the Dark Lady pressing into the soft cloth of her mage robes. The young sorceress also grew aware of certain other things as well...the warmth of Sylvanas' mouth, the shapeliness of her breasts, the feeling between her own thighs and the moisture gathering there...

There came a sudden knocking. Both women lingered in the kiss as if they wanted nothing else in the whole world, then reluctantly broke apart.

"What is it?" Sylvanas demanded with more than a little heat.

"My Queen, we have a grave matter that requires your attention." The Deathguard at the door did not even have the grace to be abashed this time, his tone instead infused with urgency.

"What is it?"

"The son of Veryn Dallbright has sent a proclamation to the Undercity. He demands retribution, my lady."

Sylvanas' red eyes widened. "What?"

"He requests a parley with you. He is bringing the defense force of the Bulwark in his cause. They are marching down the main road as we speak."

"Muster the garrison." Sylvanas did not hesitate. "Have the various local commanders report to me at once. This will not stand."

"Yes, my Queen." Distantly, they heard the Deathguard depart.

"I'm sorry, Jaina," Sylvanas said. "We will have to postpone until later. Duty calls."

Jaina only favoured her with a brilliant smile, her face still glimmering with tears. "I understand."

***

Athelion Dallbright rode ahorse down the central road of the Tirisfal Glades at the head of a long column of marching Forsaken.

The young Forsaken rogue was a mix of swirling emotions. Pride at leading an army, anger at the death of his father, and no small measure of guilt and regret. It was sad that it had come to this. Athelion felt no joy in what he was doing, but it was what had to be done.

His father had said as much to him in that still recent night where Athelion had confessed what he had seen, Sylvanas Windrunner and Jaina Proudmoore in their tryst. "I will attempt to rectify this personally. But in case I fail, you must take up the mantle I let fall."

Veryn Dallbright, Lord Seneschal of the Royal Court, had pressed a scroll into his son's hands. "My son, if I should not return..."

Athelion had felt himself tearing up and steeled himself. "You will return, Father. You are too important. Not only to me, but to the Forsaken."

"If I should not return," Veryn repeated steadily. "Give this to Nereus. He will know what it means."

Veryn Dallbright had defended the Bulwark against the Undead for years. The garrison was loyal to him. More to the point, it was also conveniently close to the Undercity.

"This scroll has the power to incite civil war in the Forsaken, my son," Veryn said gravely. "I do not give it to even my own blood lightly."

Veryn had paused. "Sylvanas has been the center of our strength, our Queen and our greatest warrior. I have been proud to serve under her as she has ably defended our realm. The Forsaken have no shortage of foes, even in the Horde."

"I will give my Queen a chance to solve this issue with a minimal amount of conflict; merely the life of one prisoner sorceress. If she is who I gauge, she will recognize our perilous position and allow it. If not..." Veryn had studied his son with a determined stare.

"You cannot allow a bewitched Sylvanas and this feeble human mage to control the Forsaken, by any means at your disposal. That is the solemn, difficult task I place on you, Athelion, should I not return."

"How, Father?" Athelion had asked his sire, a palpable sense of doom permeating into the Lord Seneschal's office.

"I do not know," Veryn had confessed. "Civil war is not ideal. The Forsaken have many foes and our borders are hard beset. It has even forced us to join the vile Horde. But civil war is preferable to being handed to the Alliance, and having all our work undone."

"Don't go, Father," Athelion had said, feebly, childishly. "We need you."

"I must do what I have always done. Serve the Forsaken." Veryn had given his son a final look, fraught with affection, regret, sadness, and resolution.

"As must you."

His father's final words to him rang through Athelion's ears even now. The Lord Seneschal had not survived his audience with the Queen; Athelion could only guess what had happened there.

One thing was certain; the Banshee Queen and her sorceress were still alive. That could not stand. It was the last command of his father, and he would obey.

Athelion Dallbright rode with his army towards his destiny, the fate of the Forsaken hanging in the balance.

***

The day was bleak.

Clouds hung overhead, obscuring the sun behind a dark curtain in the sky. Rain did not fall but the potential was always there.

There was an unsettling feeling about the Tirisfal Glades, a marked change from the peaceful times of the Kingdom of Lordaeron. Danger seemed to be around every corner and numerous unnatural creatures prowled the once verdant grasslands.

Even those threats paled to that which waited before the gates of the Undercity. There, the garrison of the Bulwark, led by the tall figure of Athelion Dallbright, stood in disciplined ranks before the capital of the Forsaken.

Opposite them was arrayed most of the garrison of the Undercity, bar only those needed to secure the other entrances. Sylvanas had commanded as many soldiers as could be found to join her force. The Banshee Queen hoped a show of force might still intimidate the young, largely inexperienced Athelion.

Before the ranks of the Undercity loyalists, mounted on an undead steed that glowed with an unholy brightness, was the Dark Lady of the Forsaken herself. Some commanders might lead from the rear, but Sylvanas Windrunner had never been the type. She knew the Forsaken both needed and followed strength, and had proven it time and again. Without any trace of fear, she stared down the ranks of the rebel force and then fixed her eyes upon Athelion.

The rogue rode forward to meet her, studying her growing figure. He remembered all too well the pale blue of the Banshee Queen's skin, skull-adorned armour clinging to the female form, the daringly exposed midriff and chest. Her breasts remained clad behind dark metal that could not quite hide their size, and her blonde hair snuck out a few fair strands from beneath the Dark Ranger's cowl.

Once, understandably, Athelion had been quite smitten with his Banshee Queen. Of course, those times were well past now.

He stopped a few meters away from Sylvanas and looked into her glowing red eyes without fear.

"Young Athelion," Sylvanas greeted him in her customary echoing tones. "How nice it is you've come for a chat. A pity you brought so many friends. I do so much prefer intimacy."

"Sylvanas."

The way he so casually addressed her was infuriating, but the Banshee Queen chose to ignore it. "Why are you here?"

"You know why." Athelion faced her boldly. "My father entrusted me with making sure the Forsaken remained both strong and independent. We are faced with a threat."

"And who gave him these dire portents, pray tell?" Sylvanas studied him closely. Athelion groped for some falsehood, but the hesitation gave him away. The Banshee Queen nodded, smiling.

"Ah. You've been spying on me, Athelion, haven't you?"

Athelion did not feel it was something he should admit to. "No, Sylvanas..."

"Did you watch me lick Jaina's pussy, Athelion?" the Banshee Queen said quietly, her red eyes keenly watching his reaction. "Did you watch her lick mine? She is very good, as you saw."

Despite himself, Athelion managed to flush at that. Sylvanas laughed. "You are far too easy to read, young rogue. You have no business being here, bringing an army to challenge my might. I assure you, it will not end well. I have faced far greater threats than the feeble likes of you."

"I am here because I must be. I have a responsibility to both my father and as a member of the Forsaken." Athelion felt woefully outmatched, but it would not do to show it.

"You want to talk, Athelion...so talk. If you wanted to attack, I highly doubt you would give me notice. Instead you would have tried something...sneakier." Sylvanas smiled confidently. "You would have been welcome to try, of course."

"I have not come here to assault the Undercity unless I must." Athelion looked at her. "You know how perilous our realm is, better than anyone. We are in the midst of enemies who grow in strength every day. You were even forced into joining the Horde, when you and your subjects despise them."

He paused, studying the Banshee Queen's features in vain for any sort of reaction.

"You know how much a civil war will cost us. It will bleed off our native strength and leave us more vulnerable to our enemies. Already the Bulwark is abandoned. What if the undead attack?"

"Where is this going, Athelion?"

"This." The rogue removed his glove and flung it full into the Banshee Queen's face. Sylvanas was far too swift for that though, the Dark Ranger catching the glove deftly and studying it carefully with her red eyes.

"Single combat, Sylvanas. You and me. I have only one condition. You bring the harlot to watch as I end you, so she can watch as her scheme to control the Forsaken utterly fails."

"Single combat," the Dark Lady mused. "You and me, avoiding all sorts of messy civil war. It sounds almost too good to be true, Athelion."

"You are that confident you can win?" Athelion challenged. "I am no mere weakling, Sylvanas."

The Banshee Queen only smiled at the weak bravado.

"It is true enough that I do not desire battle here. It is for the sake of our people I must accept. You will have to be another casualty of your misguided conscience, just like your father was. He was a noble man, and you are truly his son...but it will not stop you from meeting your doom at my hands."

"You killed him." Athelion's voice was flat, steady.

"He challenged me." Sylvanas met his stare levelly. "I do not accept challenges to my authority. I cannot. You know that."

Athelion stood there in silence, his gaze growing colder by the moment. "I am going to kill you, Sylvanas. Two hours from now, in the main courtyard of the Undercity. Bring the whore."




Just Let Me Stay a Little While Longer Ch. 03



Sylvanas' expression darkened at the last. "She is no whore, you upstart whelp. You incite civil war and stand here in open threat to my rule. I should kill you where you stand."

"If you did, my entire force would attack yours. Even if you prevailed, the Forsaken as a whole would be weakened. If you truly want that, I cannot stop you."

Athelion waited. The Banshee Queen looked at him with a dark expression.

"Two hours, Athelion. Make peace with your end."

"Make peace with yourself, Sylvanas. You have far more to be guilty of than I do."

Sylvanas wheeled her horse about, throwing a final red glare back over her fair shoulder. "You have no idea how true that is, young Athelion."

The Dark Lady of the Forsaken departed, leaving the rogue to return to his own ranks and prepare himself for what was to come.

***

"Single combat? Is he really so stupid?"

Marshal Bravar, commander of the Undercity's garrison, spoke to Sylvanas as the Banshee Queen perched negligently on her Dark Throne.

"I cannot speak to his state of mind," Sylvanas commented. "But this will save us much conflict. I do not fear him, and I will face him."

"We can still attack him," Bravar offered weakly, even as her other gathered advisors nodded in sycophantic agreement. "We could crush his force as he waits unprepared."

"No." Sylvanas swung her eyes to study them all. "I lead the Forsaken, and if they need another example as to why, I will give it to them."

Her eyes flickered over at Jaina's docile form in chains, almost lost in shadow at the corner of the room, and her expression softened. "This is my fight."

"As you wish, my Queen." Bravar subsided.

"I have heard enough. Out. All of you. The day's bloodletting will be tiring, and I must prepare."

There was not even a hint of dissent. Each of the various commanders turned to depart, closing the thick iron doors behind them.

Sylvanas remained on her Dark Throne to watch them go, then moved her gaze to where Jaina remained bound. "You can take them off now, my dear."

The sorceress broke free of her shackles and stood easily, her blue eyes studying the Banshee Queen carefully. "Sylvanas..."

"There is something more about this matter that concerns you, Jaina," Sylvanas said. Her red eyes flickered unashamedly up and down the young sorceress' form, lingering on certain areas, sending a thrill of excitement through Jaina even now.

"Athelion wants you to be at the duel. To watch me die, he says." The Banshee Queen hesitated. "Of course, I will refuse him this condition."

Jaina looked at her. "Why?"

"Battle is never as simple as the strongest conquering the weakest, dear Jaina." Sylvanas paused. "There is a great deal of luck and chance always at play. I am stronger by far, but Athelion could be the more fortunate. If I should fall...you should not be there to watch."

"I want to be there, Sylvanas." Jaina did not hesitate in her reply. "What you have sacrificed...this entire conflict is because of me..."

"I said it before." The Dark Lady studied the Archmage carefully. "I would do everything I had done again if I had the choice."

Sylvanas' expression grew pensive.

"I am glad Athelion offered single combat," the former Elf admitted. "This situation was of my own making. Now I can solve it myself, without a risk to my people. It is my fight. Living or Forsaken, we all make our choices, and we all must face the consequences."

"I want to be there, Sylvanas." Jaina looked at her lover. "I won't simply sit here as you face death."

"Death." Sylvanas smiled at that. "I have already faced death so often it has lost all power over me. But now that I have something to live for..." Her expression grew softer, more worried.

"I am going to watch the duel." Jaina's voice took on her own note of steel. "You can't risk Athelion backing out of the duel and attacking. Moreover, I want to see you gut that worm. And finally..."

The young sorceress' chin rose defiantly. "You can't stop me."

Sylvanas looked at Jaina with amusement. "You really think so, Jaina? Here, in the center of my power?"

"You could try." Jaina studied the Banshee Queen boldly.

The Dark Lady held the look of the young blonde sorceress steadily, and then without warning, she laughed. It was a strange sound, echoing as it did, and Jaina had a feeling it had not often been heard often in these dark halls.

"You are worthy, Jaina Proudmoore," Sylvanas said lightly afterwards. "You have a fire burning within you, in that beautiful body, in your heart. I have always loved that about you. And I know you are more than capable of protecting yourself."

The Banshee Queen pondered to herself for a moment longer and suddenly subsided. "Very well. You can watch the duel. Just promise me you will be safe, while I deal with this wretched boy."

"How much longer?" Jaina asked quietly.

"Oh, ninety minutes I suppose." Sylvanas smiled. "I guess I should prepare...but there's not really much else to do other than ponder what is to come."

"Not much else to do?" Jaina echoed. Her voice took on a husky edge. "Are you sure?"

Sylvanas looked at the young sorceress and a smile favoured her lips again. "On second thought, I can think of something else much more exciting. It would be nice if you could find some way to take my mind off things."

"I'll do my best," Jaina said promisingly. The Archmage approached the Dark Throne, letting a sensuous sway enter her step that Sylvanas noticed with hungrily glowing red eyes.

"Now what happened to the chaste young sorceress I first met," Sylvanas said playfully, eyes studying her lover's movements with undisguised pleasure.

"I'll show you just how chaste I am, Sylvanas." Slowly, standing before her lover, Jaina reached into the folds of her mage robes, with eyes only for Sylvanas. The robes parted open, baring Jaina Proudmoore's pale peach skin and glorious nude form.

The young blonde sorceress bore herself with a confident smile, letting the robe fall to the floor in a pool of cloth. She stepped over it, completely naked, and Sylvanas rose to meet her, the two kissing fervently once more.

As their tongues dueled, Jaina's arms snaked around the Banshee Queen. She reached for the clasp of Sylvanas' cloak and undid it to let it fall behind her.

The kiss broke. Jaina's hands deftly began to tug at this and that, the armour of the Dark Ranger soon collecting in a neglected pile on the ground. As the blonde sorceress exposed her lover with hungrily, Sylvanas unabashedly looked down at Jaina's naked form.

The young sorceress was so vibrant and full of life, a wonderful contrast to this cold realm of the Forsaken. Everything about Jaina screamed vitality, from the vivid blue eyes, to the large breasts, the pale pink nipples extending outwards in arousal, the nervous, excited breaths, the face rapt with excitement. It was a seductive vision, even to as formidable a temptress as Sylvanas.

The Dark Ranger was clad only in her breastplate and her leggings, her armour removed and her blonde head exposed freely for once, bereft of her trademark cowl. "What happened to you liking my attire?" the Banshee Queen commented wryly, as Jaina's hands snaked around her to fiddle at the clasp of the breastplate.

"That had a charm of its own. But I need to see you Sylvanas. All of you, like our first time." Jaina looked into Sylvanas' red eyes, and the Banshee Queen felt the breastplate finally unlatch. "I don't want there to be any secrets between us."

Jaina let the armour fall with a clatter to the ground, exposing Sylvanas from the waist up. The large blue breasts bounced free, bereft of their oppressive, unyielding prison. The young blonde sorceress studied them, the darker blue, almost purple nipples as erect as her own, their formidable size as they dangled freely in the air.

With that sight, Jaina knew she had chosen correctly. She wanted this time to be special; both had gone down on the other already, had tasted their lover's womanhood with relish. Now Jaina wanted to see the full naked form of the Banshee Queen once more, and experiment with this lush beauty.

It was with almost an afterthought that Jaina tugged down at Sylvanas' leggings, once again exposing the Banshee Queen's cunt for her hungry eyes to see. The young sorceress had to kneel to do it, and Jaina kissed right in the center of Sylvanas' blonde mound, teasingly, promisingly, before rising.

They were fully naked before the other now, unclad, exposed, and vulnerable. The smell of their growing arousal grew in the cold, still air as both once more drank in the glory of the other's naked form.

After a long moment, Jaina took the lead for once. She was filled with a sense of contentment that both of them were now fully exposed to each other. In too short a time this strong, brave Banshee Queen would be fighting a dangerous duel, all for her.

Jaina wanted Sylvanas to know that she had something to fight for.

The young blonde sorceress brought her face forward into Sylvanas', kissing at those dark lips fiercely. Both blue and pink arms snaked against the other, the silky locks of their blonde and white locks hair tickling the other's face. Jaina felt the endearing sensation of Sylvanas' breasts once again press into her own, both pairs of a wonderfully equal size.

It was heavenly. Jaina could not help herself, shaking her chest to one side then the other, her sensitive erect nipples pressing wonderfully into Sylvanas' own. The Banshee Queen smiled into their kiss and mirrored the gesture, and Jaina shuddered in pleasure at that, breaking away.

"You know, I guess we've been too occupied with...other locations," Sylvanas said slyly, her gaze fixed downwards at Jaina's luscious globes. "I never really fully appreciated what a nice chest you have, Jaina."

In response, Jaina bent downwards, her mouth opening, a curtain of white-blonde hair falling forward with the growing force of gravity on it. Her mouth took one of Sylvanas' blue breasts into her mouth and latched onto the nipple. As the Banshee Queen moaned above, Jaina's face grew almost feral as she bit softly into the hard dark nub, leading Sylvanas to shudder, but she did not push the blonde head away.

The young sorceress eventually lifted her head off, leading to a gentle exhalation of loss from above, and then repeated her actions on the other breast. The Banshee Queen was soaring, feeling herself stimulated in new and exciting ways, enjoying the sight of the enrapturing face of Jaina Proudmoore licking at her breasts with relish.

Afterward, Jaina pushed her lover backwards, her hands pushing at Sylvanas' breasts, as if the sorceress could not keep her hands off them. Sylvanas let herself fall onto her own Dark Throne as Jaina wanted. The young sorceress reflected on the sight of that beautiful nude form of the Banshee Queen on her seat of power, a sight that was hers alone.

Sylvanas continued to let Jaina have her way; she felt the hungriness, the curiosity in her lover. The young blonde sorceress gave a fierce blue-eyed glance at Sylvanas' form and perched herself above on the armrests, as once the Banshee Queen had done to her. She felt a sense of power as she towered over the unmoving Sylvanas, who studied the young blonde above with glowing red eyes.

Their first encounters had been so...furious, and urgent. This one was something different; more patient, explorative, and fraught with implications of what was to come. "I want to try something," Jaina confessed. She straddled one of Sylvanas' large breasts from above. The Banshee Queen waited, watching as Jaina lowered her pussy onto the erect nipple.

Jaina didn't know what she expected, all she knew was that she wanted to try it. She felt her pussy very slightly penetrated by the nipple, the cushion of Sylvanas' breast as she lowered the center of her womanhood upon it. Sylvanas felt the moist heat of Jaina's pussy upon her sensitive nub, studying the young sorceress' nude form that towered above her, leaving glistening fluids of arousal upon her breast as she finally broke away.

High above, Jaina studied Sylvanas' now glistening breast and lifted off the armrests, bending down to take the moist dark nipple in her mouth. Sylvanas groaned as Jaina tasted herself on the breast of the Banshee Queen with a hungry expression.

Then Jaina let herself fall slowly on top of Sylvanas. Their bodies merged lewdly once again on the Dark Throne, their legs alone stretching beyond its cavernous grasp. Sylvanas decided to return the favour from earlier, taking a bit of initiative at last, bending her head downwards to suck at Jaina's own pink nipple. Harder than the young sorceress, the Banshee Queen bit down on the erect tips, leading Jaina to unleash a loud cry, a small part of it pain and a far larger one of pleasure.

Their faces returned to level. Unbidden, their legs wound into each other, their forms beautifully intertwined. Jaina and Sylvanas both felt their moist cores sliding along the smooth lengths of each other's legs, leaving moist trails of each other's fluids upon the other. The blue eyes and the red met, their breasts mashed wonderfully again, both lovers writhing against the other.

It wasn't really a planned part of their encounter, but it was a glorious sensation. They could feel the other slide along the lengths of the leg, occasionally humping their pussy into the hot, smooth skin. Jaina felt her womanhood travel along the length of the Banshee Queen's strong thighs, along a glistening trail of her own juices. Unable to restrain herself, she reached a hand downwards to Sylvanas' pussy, and was shocked even now by how much moisture she felt there. It was easy enough to sink a finger, then two, then more into her lover.

Sylvanas let herself enjoy Jaina's fingering for a moment, her head arched into the young sorceress' shoulder. Then she, like any good lover did, reciprocated. Jaina felt the Dark Ranger's deft, nimble fingers penetrate into her molten, welcoming cunt with delight.

These latest explorative efforts were leading ever closer towards the inexorable climax. Jaina looked into Sylvanas' eyes with an expression of rapture, her hair falling below into the Banshee Queen's face. They rocked against each other, their hands working between the other's legs towards the goal of ultimate pleasure.

Sylvanas thrust one of her hands into Jaina's pussy, exploring furiously, the other stimulating all along her lover's form. One moment it clasped at a breast, then flicked achingly at a nipple, then stroked along a leg or lovingly caressed at Jaina's face. The young sorceress dutifully tried to keep up with Sylvanas even as her body shook with growing delight. One of her own hands groped the Dark Ranger's large, pert breasts, kneading the soft flesh even as the other worked feverishly between Sylvanas' thighs.

Their bodies were so close to release. Jaina felt Sylvanas' pussy still sliding along her leg, even as her own slide along that smooth, lean leg of the Banshee Queen. Jaina was near her climax, and she wanted to bring Sylvanas along with her, but she was unsure if she could hold on. The young sorceress watched as Sylvanas removed her hand from Jaina's dripping cunt, replacing it with the other. Red eyes studying Jaina, she licked at her moist hand, even as she continued her ministrations.

"Mmm, you taste as good as ever Jaina," Sylvanas said, licking each with a wickedly seductive expression that made Jaina soar.

"I want to...cum...with you...Sylvanas." The young sorceress could hardly get the words out.

"Is that so, Jaina?" the Dark Lady of the Forsaken said playfully. Jaina felt a sense of mild fury at that. She thrust all of her fingers inside Sylvanas and made the smug expression disappear from the Dark Ranger's face, to be replaced by one of rapture at the sudden, violent sensation.

"You are going to cum too, my Banshee Queen." Jaina made the words a growl, a promise. "You are ...uhh...I am...so close...Sylvanas..."

"Cum for me, Jaina." Sylvanas' red eyes met Jaina's. "I want to feel your pussy spasm around my fingers. If you're lucky, I might even clean it up for you. Would you like that, you dirty girl?"

Sylvanas mirrored Jaina's early movement, thrusting all of her fingers into the young sorceress' pussy at once and exploring deftly. Jaina was too close to resist, and she exploded in orgasm at that wondrous sensation. She cried out, the Banshee Queen's hand working even more furiously than ever between the young sorceress' thighs.

A flood of liquid coated Sylvanas' hand, making the Dark Ranger smile. Sylvanas felt herself still being fingered fervently, and then Jaina drove the fingers of her second hand inside of her as well in a successful bid to send the Banshee Queen over the edge. Full of fond thoughts for the devotion of her lover, her pussy wonderfully stimulated, Sylvanas shuddered in her climax even as Jaina continued to writhe out her own.

Jaina made sure to keep stimulating her lover even as she lost herself in her orgasmic delight, and Sylvanas did the same. Both of their bodies shook, their muscles contorting along their forms with the power of their release. Neither stopped their efforts, tirelessly seeking instead to prolong the other's pleasure. Jaina shrieked, crying out the Banshee Queen's name, and Sylvanas responded quietly, burying her head into Jaina's shoulder and letting out a low, continuous moan as her body lost control of itself under the young sorceress' touch.

Eventually, Jaina's head fell back in the power of her orgasm, still relishing the feel of Sylvanas' dripping pussy in her fingers. Her eyes closed to mark the memory and pleasurable sensations even as they receded from her. She felt a shifting below her and opened her eyes. Instead of Sylvanas' pretty face, she was treated to the Banshee Queen's glistening pussy and the evidence of its recent powerful orgasm.

Evidently, Sylvanas was enamoured at the similar sight near her as much as Jaina was. The young sorceress felt a tongue flick into her own wet pussy as at the other end the Banshee Queen kept her earlier promise, tasting Jaina once more, cleaning the fluids of her explosive climax with deft tongue licks. Jaina bent down to do the same, flicking at Sylvanas' pussy and pushing her tongue lustfully inside, the sorceress' beautiful face locked in a rapturous expression as she ate out the Banshee Queen's lovely cunt.

They licked at each for several more moments, and then, finally, they collapsed against the other. Neither Jaina nor Sylvanas seemed to mind as both caught their breaths for a long minute, womanhoods still temptingly only inches above each of their faces. 

Then Sylvanas swung back up to Jaina and kissed the young sorceress as she lay exhausted against the Dark Throne, rising on her arms afterward to study the young Archmage.

"Thank you for that, dear Jaina," Sylvanas said softly. "It's nice to go into battle on something so exquisite."

"...Wow..." was all Jaina could say. Sylvanas laughed.

"I'm glad it was good for you too."

The young blonde sorceress finally found her voice properly through the haze of post-orgasmic bliss. "Sylvanas...I'm scared..."

"Don't be," the Banshee Queen replied confidently, but Jaina pressed doggedly on.

"Be careful. I can't lose you. Not now, not after everything we've been through together, and what we've had to do."

"Do not worry, my dear." Sylvanas tucked a strand of white hair from Jaina's head back delicately. "I can't lose the duel now. Not when I have something to fight for, as you demonstrated so willingly."

The Dark Lady of the Forsaken paused, then pressed on. "I could never truly leave you, Jaina."

Sylvanas let herself fall onto Jaina's chest, her head pillowed on one of the young sorceress' sizable breasts. Her other blue hand toyed idly at the other, the Banshee Queen's form curled onto her lover's. Jaina reached a hand upwards to also stroke at Sylvanas' form as it lay upon her.




Just Let Me Stay a Little While Longer Ch. 03



The blonde sorceress' mouth opened again to speak her reservations, but a single, sensuous blue finger rose to rest against the pink lips. "No more talk, Jaina. Let's just relax, for a few minutes more at least."

Jaina looked down to see a smile on the Banshee Queen's face as she contemplated a recent memory. Sylvanas settled on her lover, content, and spoke a final lingering request.

"Just let me stay a little while longer."