Simply Unknown

Little Things - One Direction

*i have a lot of wolves*

*i have a lot of wolves*

The embrace wasn’t something she wasn’t accustomed too, but it had been years since another dared. At first, she felt revulsion at the touch for it made her feel weak. Weak because she enjoyed the softness of his lips against her marble-tough cheek as if she was some mindless girl who needed the affection of another and she was beyond that. Sylvanas watched as he leaned away, accepting his role as if he was in control somehow. Rage boiled her blood, heated her veins as she gripped the hard wood against her palm until it snapped. The fragments splintered and littered to the floor below and she couldn’t rip her gaze away. A hiss escaped through her teeth she pried her grip away from the table.

Before he could right his posture fully once again, she lunged for him and grabbed him by the throat. Fingers coiled around his skin as she slammed him onto his back along the table and climbed atop it. Feet planted on either side of his waist and she knelt down to be face to face with him. “You are mine.” It was confirmation of her strength, her power and that she was not weak unto anyone or anything. Never would she make the mistake others had. No, she wouldn’t be fooled by false infatuations. What game was he playing at? Perhaps the one where he moseyed up in her good graces and won over her trust, just to kill her in the end or the one where he tried to escape from her at the same moment she placed her faith in him. How could she ever begin to trust him if he was so bold in his actions?

Yet, when she looked in his eyes she felt the trust he placed in her. There was no doubt and had he not just saved her from being torn to shreds by an unruly pup? Even if she had not needed saving, he had done it anyway. ZWEI had put himself at risk because, deep down, he knew he could trust her unlike any other. And it was then that she knew he would be one of the only she could ever trust. When the time for war came, she would need him as he would need her and together—they would be unstoppable.

Onto her knees she dropped, lowering her face to hove mere inches away from his. Breath ghosted from her lips as she breathed onto him, testing him and his limits. Though, with each passing second she loosened the grip of her chain like fingers until she was barely grasping him. As she continued to bore into him, she felt his pulse beat frantically under the pads of her fingers. It was trying to keep up with the need his body held. Had she held on for just a little while longer, ZWEI would have woken up back in his cage. Perhaps it was his day of luck for she was feeling a bit… sentimental.

The pad of her thumb lifted from his throat and touched to his lower lip. “If you let me down, I vow that I will hunt you every second of your measly life. If you so as attempt to cross me or disappoint me, I will haunt you every thought until you go mad. I will become the only thing you know.” Each word poured from her lips slowly and efficiently. Sylvanas wanted more for him just hear her, she wanted him to listen. To any other, the things said would have sounded threatening and lethal. Unto him, they were unspoken promises of affection because she was going to give into him.

Or at least try to anyhow.

Pressing onto his lip, she clawed his skin gently until she pulled a single drop of blood from his flesh. With the same finger, she cut into her lip until blood was drawn. Before the droplet could fall, she leaned down and pressed her mouth to his. In that moment, a bond of blood was seal and shared—it was eternal and infinite. Through him, she would feel anything and everything he felt, knowing if he would ever need or want her. For him, it was the exact same. They were bound and she prayed to the girl she once was that she wasn’t being a fool.

Pushing all other thoughts away, she slid her palm against his face and kissed him how he deserved to be kissed.

Perhaps, dare he think, it would help in times to come.

Her words were simple, and under her hold he found himself agreeing; technically speaking, he was hers. He had promised, and it was the truth. Was it something to fear? Of course. Would he show such things? Never in his life. He was born to fight, truly; born to survive, and he was rather good at it. Her hold seemed to falter, her eyes uncertain. She was uncertain about him, and he could feel it in himself, and he simply hoped she would see that he wouldn't go back on his word. He fought for protection under her rule for this long, he hoped for some kind of recognition of such.

It seemed, however, that it came sooner than expected.

Her hand slackened as her eyes fell upon his own once more, and in that moment he knew. Something in her had clicked; told her that it would be okay, perhaps, and he was glad for such things. Once her grip loosened he took in a much needed breath as he felt his pulse throb against her cool skin. The feeling of adrenaline she brought to his life was new and inviting, almost tempting yet he was unsure of such things himself. But why should he ever believe that he, of all people, would lose control? Control was his middle name, after all, and he would do so well as to keep his control that way. Self-control, that was. 

Her face stooped lower as he watched her actions carefully, noting that her thumb dragged across his lip only to cause a cut that allowed a faint drop of blood to escape. She did the same to herself, and before he could even question her words her lips had pressed to his own in ways that he thought to be impossible by another. How it felt shouldn't have been as good as it was, and ZWEI thrived upon the new feeling as he kissed her back with a passion renowned. Her words of supposed malice lingered on his mind as their lips crashed together, and he let off a small chuckle, understanding the irony in what she had said.

"You wouldn't need to hunt me to make life a misery; once we wolves make bonds, if we don't stick to them, we drive ourselves to insanity. The bond haunts us until we die. Let's hope we never resort to that..." Once again, he allowed lips to crash against her own as he took her face into his hands as he pressed himself into her ever so gently, already feeling himself anticipating so much more. Perhaps he had been wrong about the woman before him.

Perhaps they were more alike than he could have ever imagined.

Fingertips caressed the linen pages, feeling the fabric’s tight weave that held the words of her family’s once existence. It was the history she had lived through, died for and was forced to abandon. It was everything she once knew, once believed in. Those were the days when she was neither good nor evil, but only powerful. The ideal was for the betterment of their world, for their people and for the future. Sometimes it was good and at other times, it was beyond evil’s grasp. Yet, it had always been practical. Back then, she had skin as fair as springtime anew and hair a dark as the rivers at night. Her eyes had been as green as the grass in Eversong Woods and she had a heartbeat that was strong, vicious. At one point, she had been alive.

Onto her knees she fell, clutching the book between broken hands. Everything about her then was broken. A compromise of selfish intent and of knowing better, that was what her existence had panned out to be. A single man gone mad with the lust for power had done to this to her, changed her life forever. Never before had she hated so much. Because of him, she had learned how to hate and forgotten how to love. Perhaps that was the difference in death. Either way she looked at it, she would never be the same and she had accepted that some time ago. That, however, didn’t erase the sorrow she felt on occasion.

Tilting the book, she fanned through the pages until it came to its end. Distracted by the pain stricken memories of her past existence, she had failed to hear or smell the newborn approaching. Closing the book, she brought it to her chest and closed her eyes tightly. Through parted lips, she sighed with bated breath as she attempted to hold herself together. Yet, the sentiment of a girl now lost fell away once she finally heard the pup enter the room. For a moment, she debated letting it ravage her. Perhaps then she could find peace. If he dropped her into the arms of the ocean, she’d sink down into a devoted slumber and never have to face the troubles she had never asked for. Yet, she knew he couldn’t do it even if she allowed him too. Besides, a sick part of her truly enjoyed the power she had attained in The Lich King’s failure.

Yet, before she could even assess the situation, she heard the shrill sound of metal scraping against metal as someone withdrew a sword from its hilt. The sound of flesh being ripped through and the howl from the pup’s lips caused her to cringe slightly for she was unaware of the presence of the other. Though, his voice soon crooned through the muggy air and she found herself smirking. Sylvanas slowly turned her head round so she could peer just over her shoulder at him. The cat shaped orbs narrowed into pleased slits as she watched the throat of the Worgen slit in two. Blood spattered the walls and her exposed backside, but she wasn’t bothered. It would take a little more than blood to make her skin crawl. Besides, only a true queen bathed in the blood of her enemies. A finger moved to her brow as she collected a crimson droplet and wiped it along her leather trousers.

“Apology unnecessary, ZWEI. Things happen here that not even I care to explain. I won’t accept it for it is undeserved.”

It was the single most natural thing she had spoken to the human upon capturing him for her own. Before long, he was kneeling alongside her and questioning her, as if she would confide in him. The beast she stared into then was nothing but a stranger, a creature she couldn’t make much of. Even if he posed little to no threat, she held no trust in him. That wasn’t saying much, though, considering she only held such a thing in herself. Blood ran down her spine and she continued to bore her gaze into him, she slipped a hand to the flesh and gathered the fresh nectar along her fingertips. Before it could burn black along with the body of the dead, she touched it to her lips and cackled sinisterly. Though her eyes were hollow of any humor, she was thoroughly entertained by him. He was an odd little thing and she had to admit, keeping him hadn’t been the worst decision she had ever made.

Without answering him herself, she thrust the book from her lap into his hands. With efficiency, she opened the text to the center of its whole and pointed to the image. “At that time, nothing had been wrong.” It was all she planned on saying upon the matter for she held no real interest in sharing with him. Why would she wish to share of all that she had lost, all that she had gained? Those who knew either rejected her entirely, pitied her or feared her. There was nothing in between those emotions, she had learned that quickly. Those who knew nothing, she preferred to keep it that way.

Yet, she also felt something stir inside of her. It was a feeling she had actually missed when she allowed herself too. There had been a time when she had been at peace with her sisters and they had shared anything, everything. It had never mattered if the information was useless or pointless, they shared it all. “Once upon time, I was Sylvanas Windrunner. I was the fiercest archer in all the lands of Azeroth and I had been responsible for protecting the people of these lands. I protected them from evil, from chaos. I was worshipped at one time, I was a goddess. My family was the head of all military relations and we were at war.

War was what I thrived on. It was what I built my soul around for I wished to be the best protector. Evil could not touch me then. It held no tie over me and I was infinite.” Rising from the floor, dust floating in her wake, she walked over towards the room length table and pressed her palms against the pressed pine. Nails dug into the surface as she pulled her fingers down the length of it. The sound was wretched, but she was numb to it. “Yet, there was something far more powerful than even I could anticipate. It was a different desire of power, of control. It was evil in purest form and it was death. It conquered everything it touched, took the lives of thousands without shame. This wasn’t a plague, it was an epidemic.” Curls of the wood fell from her hands as she removed from the tabletop. Splinters cut into her skin, but she couldn’t find the will to care.

“I was fearless though, fearless and reckless. I held no regrets, I was a warrior. The purpose was to end evil and that was all I saw, evil. It consumed me and I became obsessed with the hunt. A veil covered my sense and I was ruled by pure, raw instinct. Never in all my life had I wanted to kill someone as bad as I had wanted to kill Arthas, The Lich King. I wanted his blood to stain my tunic so when I would return home, the people would know. I wanted the title of being the King Slayer. I wanted the glory. It drove me to a point of insanity, but I wasn’t evil. Despite my purpose morphing into a selfish one, it would benefit all. Yet, it made me weak. The devil found me and did something worse than kill me. He turned me into death itself. Arthas made me his banshee servant. I had no will power, no strength. I was nothing but a wisp of what I once was, but I was not lost.”

Sylvanas stopped in front of a rich looking tapestry. In the design held pale blue and ivory stitched designs of humans and wolves alike. It had never been the intention of mankind to be tainted by the evil of Worgen, but drastic measures always were taken in Azeroth. Fingers curled around the delicate hanging, ripping it without even pausing for breath. “Over time, I fought the control he held over me. I fought for myself. I wanted to be free, I wanted to die. Yet, the longer it took me to free myself, the deeper my rage set. By the time I had enough willpower to take back my body I was beyond the point of anger. I wanted revenge for what he had done and I couldn’t do that by dying. So this is what I am now. I took the broken and lost souls he had left behind, built an army and we fought back. We took these lands for our own and became a race. People think I’m mental and I know they’re right, but why should we be left with nothing?”

Pieces of the fabric littered down to the ground as she stood there, shaking in her own skin. Every emotion she had once felt came rushing back, crashing over her and she was consumed with the rage once more. “There is a reason I don’t trust anyone, ZWEI. There is a reason I do not trust you. Thousands of powerful people want me dead because I resurrect the fallen and make them my own. I will never be left alone to fend myself from the wards of hatred. I am the Banshee Queen and no one can take that away from me.” Finally, she turned around to look at him right in the eyes. With a few steps, she was posed at the opposite side of the table and staring down to him. “There is also a reason you’re not dead. You’re going to help me kill the man who took everything from me. I don’t care if you’re alive or dead in the midst, but you’re mine either way. I won’t let you go.”

"If you insist, I guess." He admitted with a shrug of his shoulders and a small chuckle as he watched her for a moment, raising an eyebrow at her actions that many would consider to be downright strange, yet somehow he sat there and accepted it. After all, who would he be to question such things? Such was the way of her existence; her very lifestyle. In a way... it was showing she was better than the thing he'd just killed, but perhaps he was overthinking things far too much.

It was then that the book was pushed over to him and he glanced down at the pages, noticing what lay before him. There she was, with her family, looking proud, happy almost. He knew that, surely, she must have had a life before death, but never would he have thought it to be published in some kind of history book, therefore he took great care when flipping through the delicate pages. He hardly noticed that she had began moving, but rather he focused upon her words; her tale that she said she wouldn't share, yet there she was sharing regardless. A strange notion, though he wouldn't question it. That was something he knew, deep down, she simply didn't want. 

As her tale progressed and details were not spared, he felt pity for her. To die in battle still reigned the greatest honour in ZWEI's eyes, yet such an honour was taken from her. Once upon a time she was hailed a hero, and now she played the role of villain to a tee. Though his story was vastly different to her own, he could still relate to her somewhat. Strange, really, how such things worked yet, once more, he would not question, but simply listen. 

The noise from her nails scraping against the table should have caused him to flinch, yet he found himself numb to such sounds, instead focusing upon what she had to say. "It's not mental... seems logical if you ask me. Strange, but not mental... not if people know that." It was the first and only comment he would make on her story; her past, present, and unforeseeable future. He knew she didn't need it for, ultimately, she wouldn't care for his approval. Even so, he still made it known to her that she wasn't as mental as she thought, but rather efficient. He knew that if he were in the same situation, which to a degree he most definitely was, he would do the same. 

Her emotions came rushing forth then; raw, intense anger showing as she leaned over the table to look at him and, finally, he looked up into her piercing red eyes and took heed of her warning of sorts. Allowing it to sink in, he too rose from the dusty floor only to approach the opposite end of the table she stood by. Their beings were close, he should have been scared and yet he was more confident than ever before. Palms pressed against the table top as he leaned forward, still keeping his eyes on her as he edged closer and closer until, finally, he nuzzled the side of her face with his nose, leaving a single kiss to her cold cheek as a sign of respect. Her story made sense, her emotions more than understandable, and she had ultimately spared his own life.

"You have my word," He whispered gently into her skin before he allowed himself to pull away somewhat, though his eyes simply locked back onto her own. He felt that his words needed no explanation; she would understand, surely, the intentions of his promise to her; his oath to fight against what had taken her life so many years ago. 

It was, after all, the very least he could do for her.