With King Varian and his armies fighting in the north against continual Legion invasions it was anticipated the battles would be arduous and long. Prince Anduin therefore had the unenviable task of rallying resources to stand against the pending assault on Goldshire, and indubitably Sarah's home, Earth. It was not being made easy for him. Resistance from some of the factions was hard to penetrate. Their take on the Earth woman was still out for debate. Her claim of having been "warned" by Gul'dan, even though her predictions up until now had proven accurate, was met with a high degree of suspicion.

Representatives of the associations who had been summoned, arrived at the Keep by the time dawn revealed the horizon. The Stormpike Guard, veteran defenders, native to the Alterac Mountains headed the small procession towards the double doors of the war room. Predominantly dwarves, they nonetheless had the token night elf, human and gnome among their numbers.

The occasional whoosh and pop of portals echoed through the corridors depositing individuals such as members of the Kirin Tor. With them came The Violet Eye, a subsidiary faction of the Dalaran magi. Chiefly human, and in their flowing robes of purple, gold and white, they proceeded with an air of imperiousness through the doors where the acting sovereign awaited them.

The temperature dropped considerably in the halls when two death gates, portals of the Knights of the Ebon Blade, opened into the Keep. Death Knights, whose frosty personas emulated their cold re-animated bodies, stepped through. Theirs was a mixed bag of individuals, ranging from the seven foot tall night elves, who crossed the halls in long, fluent strides to the small, but infinitely deadly, three and a half foot gnomes who trundled with considerable ease on the heels of their comrades. Their black armour flashed with the remaining light of the candelabras. They came to a silent halt inside the war room.

Among the last to enter were priestesses of Elune, all equally fine warriors and hunters as well as devout disciples of the goddess. They were led by Tyrande, whose beauty and elegance was surpassed only by her formidable huntress abilities.

Close behind her, came her husband Malfurion, heading up an entourage from a cross section of the druidic organisations, including the Cenarion Circle, Expedition, Farstriders and Grove.

Once all assembled, the doors were closed and guards stationed themselves outside in the hallway.

All eyes turned to Anduin. The Prince studied the map of Azeroth on the table in front of him; his eyes scanning the many pins which denoted the confirmed sightings of Legion invasions. The numbers were growing by the day as were the casualties to the Alliance armies. He knew what he was about to ask of these men and women would give rise to his authority being questioned. 

Anduin looked up at the faces staring at him. Deciding to just cut to the crux of the matter, he inhaled and focused on steadying his voice. "There is a rip in the sky over Stone Cairn Lake. It was an unforeseen and, up until now, unnoticed aftereffect of the forced entry into the Tomb of Sargeras by the orc wizard Gul'dan. This rip, fissure, leads to another world. It is the home world of Sarah Metcalfe, the woman most of you should now know of having been instrumental in aiding the survival of our King. We believe it is how she came to be here on Azeroth."

Murmurings rippled across the room along with the shuffling of feet, and the clink of plate and steel. From the darkened recess to the Prince's left, a pair of blue eyes watched keenly over the gathered peers.

Anduin continued. "Goldshire is one of the next regions on the Legion's plan of attack.  And with it, the home world of Sarah Metcalfe. I am going to defend it with your help. Not only will we fight for our lands but also that of Sarah's."

Voices raised, protestations escalated. "We do not have the time nor the resources to be trifling about an unknown land in some distant universe," someone said from the back of the room. Other voices also grunted their reluctance to bear arms for a foreign world.

The blue eyes in the recess rippled gold then back to blue.

"We do not have the time nor the resources?" the Prince repeated. "Yet one alien woman made it her mission to aid us in our time of need." Silence prevailed. "So, am I to understand that our honour is only befitting that of our needs, our survival and our world? Is it possible that you view the fate of others, who have proven their loyalty by aiding us in a crisis, as trivial?"

"Forgive us Sire, but perhaps our misgivings are indicative of these troubled times." A voice came from the rear of the room. Heads turned as Archmage Modera stepped forward. "But, I humbly put it to you that we should evidence the liability and loyalty of this ... Sarah woman."

Prince Anduin eyed her steadily. A very serious woman, the Archmage believed the Kirin Tor had the answers to everything; they were the elite after all. Inclined to lean towards the tried and tested and rules made by her association, she was always supremely suspicious of anything which had not been approved by the magi. She also possessed an unshakable sense of self importance.

High Priestess Tyrande stepped forward. "I believe a member of your faction has already done that, Modera. Am I to understand there is a lack of communication within your group?" The kal'dorei's impassive expression was set in its usual alabaster perfection.

You could have heard a pin drop within the room of plate and mail clad individuals. Modera's eyes narrowed but she forced a tight smile. "On the contrary, Khadgar has notified us of his findings. However ..."

"However nothing," Tyrande injected. "I admit I was not enamoured by the woman to begin with either, but she has indeed contributed valuable information which has served us well."

The Archmage opened her mouth to respond but a voice from the darkened recess spoke out first. "And I will vouch for that." Heads turned towards the voice. From the shadows, the wizened, judicious features of Genn Greymane emerged. With his eyes fading from their lupine gold to his human dark blue, the worgen leader of the Gilnean people approached the Prince. Anduin offered a customary nod which Genn mirrored and then stood straight, with his hands clasped behind his back. He had the gathering's undivided attention. "I watched our noble monarch as he launched himself from the Skyfire. He slashed his way through an almighty felreaver but the demons were closing in on him rapidly. That vile orc was just standing, waiting, for our King to reach him. I have no doubt that Varian would have died - and most horribly - had Sarah not spoken with Khadgar and warned him of the outcome."

There were hushed murmurs. As quiet consultation rippled through the room, Anduin whispered a thank you to Genn. The grey haired lord inclined his head. "They are wary Anduin, that is not a bad thing, but in this instance, we must spend less time gabbing and get going."

"Agreed," the Prince acknowledged.

"Might I ask ... one more question?" the dulcet tones of Modera reached over the thrum of voices. They fell silent again.

Anduin straightened, his youthful face trying to adopt that of a seasoned ruler. He met the woman's questioning gaze. "You may," he said firmly.

"This rip you speak of - how was it discovered to be the gateway to this – Sarah's world?"

It was the question the Prince had hoped would not be asked. The last thing he wanted was to cast aspertions on the demon hunters.

The double doors suddenly opened and in swept the Illidari, led by Arcaena. Alongside her, Anduin was surprised, but most pleased to see Vindicator Ocel and some accompanying draenei warriors.

"I found the rip," Arcaena announced to the startled faces which now all looked in the direction of the approaching demon hunters and draenei. The large troupe halted on no more than a hand signal from her but she carried on walking until she was face to face with Modera. The Archmage stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated by the towering Illidari. Arcaena's soft but firm night elf tones carried across the room. "I can sense even the most minute traces of fel, and that was how I located it. I looked inside and saw a world unlike ours or any we have seen before." Although no-one could tell, Arcaena glanced in Anduin's direction. A hint of a smile curved her lips as she enciphered his silence denoted a willingness to let the full story remain unheard.

"And you are?" Modera enquired, trying to maintain an air of superiority.

The demon hunter's mouth adopted her characteristic lop-sided grin. "Willing to fight alongside Prince Anduin to secure Goldshire and prevent invasion of the world where Sarah comes from. And you?"

A deep rumble of laughter from Ocel was heard to the right of the two women.

Modera however, was not ready to be outdone. "Well then, I suppose safeguarding the rip is advantageous, for it means we can send the Sarah woman home afterwards."

Ocel's laughter ceased. Arcaena seemed to almost take the Archmage's comment as a personal insult, but Anduin intervened. "I suggest we all set to work. We may, if we are lucky have a day or two before the attack.  Arcaena!"

"Yes, Prince Anduin?" the demon hunter looked to the young noble.

"May I ask that you and you Illidari keep vigil in Goldshire and inform me of any change to the status quo."

Arcaena inclined her head in respect. "Of course, Highness." With one last lingering look at Modera, she turned and left the room, her demon hunters following  in quick succession.

"The rest of you! To work!" Anduin ordered.

Two days passed and Anduin had busied himself with faction leaders and their armies, preparing for battle. The Prince showed promising signs as a skilled leader; he consulted his advisers, worked with tacticians on deciding the best means of deployment of their forces, took into account the weapons of war on hand, their ammunitions and sourcing more if needed. He also ensured adequate aid would be available and sufficient supplies for the soldiers even prior to the commencement of battle. He requested and actively sought regular reports on progress from all factions and divisions. The demon hunters were also on his agenda for news on current conditions in Goldshire.

Tharaei and Erik had joined with respective forces and were actively involved in preparations. Sarah however, found herself redundant once more. Unable to contribute anything remotely helpful, she found herself dwelling morbidly on coming events.

The realisation that all these individuals were going to help save her world from invasion as well as defend their own sank in. Even the reluctant ones now worked diligently together forming a formidable force to stand against the Burning Legion. But, would it be enough?

Attempting to be practical, she dared assume Sargeras, Kil'jaeden and their minions would be defeated, otherwise, how was Warcraft to continue? Brainless hypothesis! she reprimanded herself. It seemed to denigrate the world which she had come to believe was very real indeed. No longer could she bring herself to think that its destiny and that of its people was predetermined by the creators of a game. She had proven it wasn't after all, by helping change the outcome of the Broken Shore.

Yet, her home was now under threat from an enemy her people considered nothing more than a mass of coloured pixels on a computer screen, a bunch of actors in a film or cartoons in mangas and literary characters in books. How could Earthlings (she guffawed as the term now made her own people sound like aliens or fantasy figures) even come to terms seeing doomguards, infernals, felhounds and the likes emerging through a rip in the sky? Their take on such a fluctuation in the fabric of time and space was still looked upon as science fiction. And just how the hell could they hope to defend themselves against such an unknowable weapon as fel energy?

The people of Stormwind had eventually accepted her as one of their own; well almost. The majority had welcomed her, ate, drank, laughed, danced and strolled with her. This felt like a home should feel. It was hard hearing about the devastation the Legion left in its wake. The reports of homes destroyed, loved ones missing or killed, families torn apart, was just as heart-wrenching as the disasters and wars from her own world. She desperately wished she could do something to stop the horror of the demonic armies.

Then there was the nervous waiting, to see if Tharaei's letter had reached its intended recipient. Early evening of the third day, she found out.

She was alerted by loud voices along the corridor from her chamber. One, unmistakably, was Khadgar's. He wasn't shouting, but his authority was nonetheless being exercised. She could hear orders being issued, guards and brave soldiers being briefed on the situation and the general hustle and bustle of a busy royal household.

She sat on her bed, arms curled round her legs, waiting. What mood is he going to be in? she wondered. Was he going to go ballistic, as Erik predicted? Or was it to be the long silent treatment, before the holier than thou speech?

She counted, One one thousand,

Two one thousand,

Three...

The door opened. She buried her face in her arms, so only her eyes showed over the top. He stood tall, strong, worthy of utter adoration. His face was unreadable in the shadows, only the golden glint from the candles reflecting in his eyes. Slowly, he closed the door. She watched as he crossed the floor. Her breathing had become shallow, her body tensed. He halted a few yards from the bed.

"What were you thinking of!" His voice though low, was restrained.

She was uncertain how to react. Truthfully, she was even unsure as to what his question referred to. She could only muster a pathetic whimper.

"Gul'dan? Have you even any concept what he is capable of?"

Her posture relaxed. Hang on a minute! she thought. "I didn't exactly plan on having tea and scones with him!" she answered defiantly.

"You - Wait... What?" Khadgar strode over to the side of her bed. When he neared she saw his eyes blazing.

It infuriated her. How dare he accuse her of recklessness. She had been coerced, deceived - not that she was going to say that of course; she had grown fond of Arcaena. "It was an accident," she huffed.

"An accident! I receive a communiqué from some elf who tells me a demon hunter kidnapped you and - "

"Tharaei! His name is Tharaei and he wants you to tutor him. And Arcaena did not kidnap me, I went willingly!" She said quickly.

Khadgar's mouth opened then snapped shut. With a grunt he dragged his fingers through his hair, sweeping it from his brow.

Her eyes widened. She liked when he did that. A small grin twitched involuntarily at the corners of her mouth.

The Archmage didn't notice. A look of utter discombobulation was on his rugged features. He turned from her, hands on hips, grumbling to himself. He spun round again. "Damn it, Sarah! You could have been killed and so could this Tha – Thar -"

"Tharaei," she finished for him. Her initial irritation eased. Her grin was spreading.

Music: "Time" - theme to the film Inception

https://youtu.be/MuAGGZNfUkU

Warning: Mature content follows, of a sexual nature.

He stood silently, just watching her, studying every curve as she relaxed from the tight little ball she had pulled herself into when he'd entered the room. His lips parted, then closed. He took another step closer.

He questioned himself if he should be here; like this. There was no doubt in his mind how he felt about her. But fate could deal cruel blows and steal away whatever you hoped your future held for you. Certain decisions had been required of him. He had chosen. And it would change much. But this woman; this vision from another world ... Their eyes locked.

The second he whispered her name, she ran into his open arms. Her closeness overwhelmed him. "Sarah," he breathed. His kiss was forceful. Intense. Hungry. He needed her. Right now.

They pulled at each others' clothing, frustrations running high as some fastenings refused to give way. Driven by a hunger all-consuming, they tore the offending articles from each other, soft laughter escaping as buttons pinged in all directions. All barriers shed, flesh against flesh, he lifted her to the bed. Limbs entwined, he pinned her arms above her head and fingers interlocked, he made love to her with such hunger, lust, need.

Keeping her wrists pinned with one hand, he caressed the back of her right thigh. Fingers traced her skin gently coaxing her leg higher until her calf rested on his shoulder. He slid down. His mouth took her, causing her to gasp. Ever increasing ripples of passion flooded her body, almost reaching her extremities. He brought her to the brink of fulfilment then pulled away just enough to see the flush spreading over her body. She was trembling, almost weeping with anticipation. Her eyes looked down, locking with his. "Please," she whispered. He climbed on top of her.

Her fingers kneaded his back as he nuzzled her neck just behind her ear. Again, sighs of pleasure left her. She was lifting her hips to meet his, trying desperately to steer him, but he held back. He knew she would tolerate it only for so long.

He grinned as he saw the frustration in her eyes. Unable to stand it anymore, she coiled her foot under his left leg. Flipping him over, she caught his wrists, pinning him. His soft laughter told her this had been exactly his plan.

"You are indeed a tease, Archmage," she said, the corners of her mouth twitching in a smile that held the promise of untold pleasure. "Let us see how you like it." She leaned down and brushed her lips on his, and down past his ear to his neck. His pelvis responded and his hands came forward to guide her hips to accept him again, but she caught his wrists and once more pinned them down.

"No!" Her eyes were dark with desire. Her hands moved to his broad pectorals and she began to trace kisses down his torso, her fingers following, delivering light caresses. He raised his head from the pillow and watched as she continued with her line of soft kisses down his body. He combed his fingers through her hair, tugging it gently. As she delivered the one lingering kiss he had anticipated he sank back into the pillows, moaning, as her tongue teased relentlessly. He smiled. Hers was a sweet revenge. Now he could not hold back.

With a groan, he pushed himself up and grabbed her upper arms, pulling her towards him. Cupping the back of her neck, he brought her mouth down to meet his. The kiss was deep, full of longing, overflowing with need. He shifted her hips over his. Rising, she allowed him to guide her. She sank onto him. Maintaining a firm hold, he controlled her every grind.

She found her elevation mere seconds before he reached his. She arched, her head lolled, hair cascading over her shoulders and back as the intensity of their passion washed over her entire being. He cried out as he flowed inside her.

Their arms wrapped tightly round each other. Movements slowed, bodies shuddered and glistened in the silken sheen from their ardent love making. Utterly spent, they collapsed into the soft pillows and remained in each other's embrace.

Their rapid breathing gradually slowed and they were unexpectedly serenaded by the sweet song of a nightingale in the city's gardens. A contended sigh left Sarah's lips. "I thought you would be angry with me," she whispered, still a little breathless, pulling his arms tighter around her.

His soft laughter reverberated on her back. "Angry? I'm furious. Couldn't you tell?"

She chuckled. "I must make you angry more often, then." She nudged round to face him.

Her response caused his heart to constrict. Sarah...he thought, closing his eyes tightly. He gently squeezed her, pulling her deeper into his embrace and planting a kiss on her forehead. There was a long silence before he spoke again. "The thought of what could have happened at the hands of Gul'dan, terrified me, Sarah."

She turned her face up to his. "I would never have sacrificed you, no matter what," she said, searching his eyes for any hint of mistrust.

He smiled reassuringly. "I never for a moment thought you would. That's not what I meant. It's your foolhardiness that worries me at times..." She feigned insult and playfully pushed him. He pulled her close again, and laughed softly. A moment later he spoke; his voice soft, and almost melancholy. "Know this, Sarah. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe." 

 He studied her face, her warm hazel eyes and her soft full lips. He traced his forefinger down her cheek and over her mouth. His brow furrowed ever so slightly. "I love you," he whispered. It was the first time he had uttered those words and truly meant them. A heartfelt sorrow lay behind the words also, but he masked that from her.

"And I love you," she replied. The words tumbled effortlessly from her mouth, so warm,so sincerely. Nestling close, she relished the warmth of his body, the smell of his cologne. Within seconds she'd slipped into a contented slumber, never having felt so safe and so loved until that moment.

The sound of someone knocking frantically on the door roused the lovers shortly after. Pulling back the covers, Khadgar rose and grabbed a robe. He crossed the room and opened the door just enough to see who demanded their attention. One of the guards bowed and spoke quietly but fervently.

Khadgar leaned against the door as he closed it.

"Is it time?" Sarah asked, dread filling every pore. She pulled the sheet around her.

He nodded. "It has begun." His steel eyes flashed as he turned to look at her.  "Gul'dan's portal is opening."

 All comments, advice and suggestions are welcome. Should you like this chapter, please be kind enough to vote, it would be most appreciated.