Khadgar stood outside his front door. Just - staring at it. He wondered what kind of reception he was going to be subjected to. He imagined she would be a little annoyed with him.

Possibly even quite angry.

More likely - furious.

He remembered their last time together; her consumption of Dwarven ale in The Golden Keg, then red wine behind this very door. She was certainly vocal with alcohol. His mouth twitched at the corners. He sincerely hoped she had not been drinking today.

In his half-dozen (or so) dalliances over the years, never had his emotions been in such turmoil as they were now. He swallowed. Then again, he had never abandoned anyone as he had Sarah Metcalfe.

He looked down at his boots, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Aargh! He inwardly chastised himself. I'm a grown man, for goodness sake, he reasoned. Then why did I treat her so dismally? He sighed, frustration with his own behaviour overtaking concerns that she would – how was it Varian had put it? Slap you silly. That was it. And if she did, would she not be entitled?

Even so, he sorely wished he had handled things differently. At the time, however, it seemed the only way. Logical. Practical. Justifiable.

Well, he was here now and whatever reaction she saw fit to award him, he would accept, without question. He took a deep breath. Rounding his shoulders and flexing his neck, he gripped the door handle.

For just a beat, he almost withdrew his hand but, conforming to the inevitable, he opened the door and stepped inside. He exhaled loudly. No sign of her. He moved through the rooms, each step becoming bolder as he realised she was not on the premises.

She could not have gone far, however. Raimond had kept a close eye on her activities, carefully creating a catalogue of behaviours and patterns.

The Archmage grinned and shook his head. The boy had taken the task far too seriously, in Khadgar's opinion, but he did not wish to deter the lad from being thorough. It was an exercise, after all, that would serve him well when he graduated as a mage in later years.

Raimond had been excruciatingly precise with his accounts of Sarah's comings and goings from Khadgar's quarters. The times she would leave the building were marked down to the exact second. The kind of day it was, whether sunny, overcast or even raining would then lead him into describing her choice of attire and commenting as to whether he considered it appropriate for the weather.

He described goods which she browsed in the shops and those she purchased. Some items, however, had the boy flummoxed and his descriptions were – well, comical, to say the least.

Her trips to the auction houses, patisseries, outfitters, jewellers even her ventures to the Underbelly; everything was documented in articulate detail.

Except, that was, her visits to A Hero's Welcome. Other than mentioning she had entered, sat down, ordered a drink and read a book, her trips to the establishment were almost skimmed over although it was, he noted, a place she frequented regularly. At least, she had in the past week, during which time he added, she had become acquainted with some locals.

And so, the most likely place to look first would be the said inn.

On approaching the entrance to the public-house, Khadgar could make out her laughter. The sound filled him with bittersweet emotions. It was not shrill for all it was clearly audible. It carried on the air like a melody. At least she has made friends in my absence, he accepted. Still, a note of regret hung on such a thought.

He entered. A table at the far back of the lounge was occupied by a group of 3 Night Elves, 2 Dwarves, 3 Humans, and Sarah. The Archmage watched silently, a sting of envy washing over his entire being as the male Night Elf to her right leaned in close, whispering something in her ear. Khadgar could almost see the tips of her hair wafting from the elf's breath.

His stature stiffened as the Kaldorei took to combing his fingers through her hair then nuzzled her neck. Oblivious to his presence, Sarah laughed and playfully pushed the Elf back, nearly dislodging him from his seat. Laughter erupted from all her companions. The elf scrambled back, threw his arms around her, and kissed her cheek.

"Sarah!"

Everyone turned at the unexpected interruption. The Humans and Dwarves were quick to acknowledge Khadgar with a respectful bow. Two Elves did likewise. The dark haired one beside Sarah, however, merely stared at him, smugly, and pulled her closer. Sarah's eyes locked with Khadgar's. Brief surprise washed over her. He had expected indifference. Her smile faded almost instantly.

It took Khadgar an insurmountable amount of reserve to appear unaffected by her obvious eschewal. He cleared his throat. "May I have a moment of your time. Please."

She remained still for a few seconds but conceded and moved out from behind the table. The Elf was reluctant to let her go, trying to pull her back. "Tassarion!" she laughed, peeling his arms from her waist. He yanked her down and again whispered in her ear.

She glanced up at Khadgar. Tassarion pulled her closer and kissed her on the lips while her eyes were still locked with the Archmage. Khadgar's jaw tightened. He turned and abruptly left.

Outside, she saw him standing at the bottom of the steps leading to the bank. He seemed to be suppressing some pent-up emotion.

With his brow knotted and steel eyes dark and brooding, he looked as stern as he had that last day she saw him. Momentarily filled with remorse for not having stopped Tassarion behaving so recklessly, she took a tentative step forward.

She knew the kiss mattered not to Khadgar. Why would it? She was of no interest to him. His silence over the weeks had informed her that much. So what was eating him? She wondered. His posture looked defensive; chest heaving under his robes, hands flexing in and out of fists, feet planted firmly on the paved street. She started walking steadily towards him.

He inclined his head to the side, just enough to acknowledge her presence. "I see you have been - busy!" He said coldly, with a sharp nod in the direction of the inn.

His accusatory tone immediately made her defensive. "Did you expect me to live like a recluse?" she spat back.

"Something like that, perhaps." He scoffed. Now his tone was haughty, airing superiority. "After all, it is what you were in your world before you came to mine."

His words ripped her. Why did he hate her so? she wondered. A gasp escaped her lips but her eyes were ablaze. Steadily, her fury built up.

She stormed away in the direction of his quarters. Quick, purposeful strides, arms swinging in military fashion she stormed across the path of some passers-by.

Khadgar gritted his teeth. What on Azeroth is happening to me here? he chided. His behaviour and words were utterly out of character. He fumed and clenched his fists. These emotions were bordering out of control.

This was why he preferred an uncomplicated life. He grunted. Who was he kidding! His life was anything but uncomplicated.

Watching her furious figure receding from his view, he briskly started after her. "Do not walk away from me!" he shouted. Civilians with stunned expressions watched the two rushing past.

"Why not?" She threw back over her shoulder, swishing her hair. "You did it to me. Remember? For bloody weeks I hasten to add!"

He faltered, his pace slowing dramatically. Ouch! That was a damn good comeback, he admitted. The pursuit resumed. "So, I guess cavorting with an Illidan look-a-like is your way of dealing with it?"

She halted abruptly. As such he had caught up with her very quickly. She glanced to her left, then right. Her jaw tightened. Quick as a flash, she turned and slapped him. Hard. On both cheeks.

He staggered back, utterly astounded by her reaction. Gasps escaped witnesses in the street. Fingers pointed at the woman who had just assaulted the great Archmage Khadgar of the Kirin Tor.

Sarah turned furious eyes on them all. "What!" she challenged. "He may be titled an Archmage, but he is still just a man!"

She faced Khadgar again and through tight lips, she hissed, "A heartless and insensitive one at that!" Immediately, she regretted her last statement, but it could not be retracted now. Her bottom lip quivered as her breathing hitched.

Trying to think straight, and failing, she whirled around and proceeded towards his quarters once more. Heads turned to watch the squabbling couple as they rushed through the streets.

Massaging his stinging cheeks, glancing apologetically at the onlookers, he followed her.

Watching her from behind, with her hair bouncing and swishing around her shoulders as she marched, the Archmage suddenly stopped caring about the people watching them. It didn't matter anymore. A veil had been lifted, or perhaps more accurately, it had been slapped away from him. Varian had got that much right anyway.

"Don't worry," she shouted, a little breathlessly, "I will get my things and be out of your way. I'm sure Tassarion will let me stay with him." She huffed.

Khadgar inexplicably grinned.

She reached the stairs that spiralled to his quarters and ran up. He was quick to follow, bounding two, three steps at a time and reaching the door just before she slammed it in his face. He barged in and locked the door behind him.

She stood in the middle of the room, fists clenched, breathing hard, fury emanating from her every pore.

By the grace of Elune, she is beautiful! He thought. Every breath in his body had been sucked clean out and it was not due to his dashing up the stairs.

Everything was crystal clear now. Past flirtations and dalliances, although very pleasant, had never fulfilled him; he now saw them as lacking. For that reason perhaps he had often felt ashamed and guilty when he acted upon his feelings.

Ocel's words returned to haunt him. If all went horribly wrong and their time in this life was to end in the coming war, he would regret never having done what he had so desperately wanted to do. He yearned to kiss her. From the first moment he saw her lying on the ground in Elwynn Forest, this intoxicating woman, had him completely spellbound.

His eyes raked over her. He noted the slight sheen of perspiration on her top lip and just above the neckline of her dress. Her breasts heaved beneath the fabric, causing the soft pleats to ripple and fold. His eyes drifted to her waist, her hips, pausing long enough before it was deemed inappropriate.

His steel orbs rose again to her face. The crease of her mouth widened just enough for the tip of her tongue to moisten her lips; they were dry from her breathing hard after her furious stampede. He watched, as slowly her eyes mellowed to the soft sensual brown once more.

Even though the hurt of being abandoned by him three weeks prior had lessened, its residue still lingered for Sarah. Every day she had risen, hoping to find him waiting for her, but the rooms had remained empty.

Life back in her own world had seemed more appealing as each lonely day had passed, but she knew no way home. Her loneliness had been intolerable.

Forcing herself to venture out to meet some of the inhabitants had been unbelievably difficult to start with. As for Tassarion and the others, they were merely drinking partners nothing more. Perhaps the elf wouldn't like her take on things, but that's how it was.

Ridiculously, having been left in a strange city by Khadgar, without so much as a goodbye, or a how are you occasionally, she inexplicably found herself aching for him even more.

His cutting words outside the bank, however, had lacerated her heart. She'd fought back, surprisingly. If all else fails, smack them, she mused.

She lowered her head, fighting a smirk which threatened to break through her taut mouth. A paradigmatic trait of hers was trying to find humour in moments of worry or sadness. Still, it didn't really lighten the situation between them.

She chanced a glance through strands of her hair which had fallen like a curtain, almost concealing her face from the steel eyes that watched her from across the room. Why was he looking at her so?

Well, here they were, facing off. Both hurting. Both needing. Both wanting.

Khadgar began to cross the room - slowly, deliberately. She watched his feet as they neared her. Instinctively, she stepped back. He stopped.

Sarah's breathing deepened as he resumed his advance. Her eyes flitted to her left as his right hand moved slowly forward, gauging her reaction. Her focus closed around his sleeve. She could see the weave of the cloth perfectly clearly; its criss-cross pattern shifting slightly as he moved nearer.

A tiny gasp, almost just a breath escaped her lips as her eyes travelled down to his hand. She noted the texture of his skin. Weathered, one or two small scars but still strong. Nails just crowning the tips of his fingers, well manicured; the half-moons of his cuticles on clear display. How was it she was able to take in such fine detail? Under such ... pressure. Her heart started to pound.

She jumped a little as his hand came to rest on her waist. She raised her eyes to meet his.

The tall athletic frame towered over her, drawing closer with each breath. The corners of his mouth toyed with a smile. He slid his arm around her back, pulling her just a little closer. She offered no resistance. His left hand rose to gently caress her face.

With a sigh she melted against his touch, nuzzling the palm of his hand.

"What have you done to me, Sarah Metcalfe?" He whispered.

He drank in the vision that was her. The wonder of her hair, silken, vibrant, fragrant, invited his fingers to toy with strands which still covered her face. He could not bear that her features were hidden from him. Sweeping her hair behind her ear, he traced his thumb over her cheek, down to the corner of her mouth.

Tightening his hold on her waist, he pressed his body against hers. "This is a battle I was not prepared for," he whispered. "I want to be with you but, I don't know if I should."

She looked into the steel-coloured eyes of the man who had all but ruined his reputation as the staid, righteous and powerful Archmage of the Kirin Tor.

What had people thought when he'd chased her through the city streets? His face told her all. He cared not what they thought. Their judgement mattered not, for now here he stood, holding her, wanting her. Her fingertips traced his brow, his cheeks and finally his mouth. "Then stop fighting," she breathed back. "I willingly accept your surrender."

His mouth hovered millimetres from hers. "Fair warning Sarah Metcalfe, it will not be easy being with me. Times ahead will be difficult."

Her mouth curved into a nervous smile. "I am stronger than I look," she replied. "You should also be aware, I am no less a challenge. But, I am willing to enter the battlefield if you are."

With a kiss, deep and hungry, Khadgar accepted her gauntlet. As he pulled her closer she moulded to his shape and all her anger, bitterness and misunderstanding evaporated.

She fell into his embrace wanting the intimacy to stay frozen in time. They remained wrapped in each other's arms for a few minutes.

Then he groaned.

Sarah frowned. It wasn't entirely the blissful sound one had hoped to hear at such a moment. She detected something in it that did not bear the promise of taking this to second base. Pulling back she looked up into his eyes. "What is it? What's wrong?"

He swallowed before answering. "I have to send you to Stormwind. Now."

"You're kidding me!" Her eyes wide, she could not believe what he was telling her.

"I want you to be safe..."

"I am! I'm here, with you." She pleaded, "How much safer can I be? I want to stay here, with you."

"You cannot, Sarah. I have work here which will endanger everyone in the city and I simply can't focus with you around."

She stepped away and turned. This wasn't how she had hoped it would go. One moment, he was all passionate, next he was like the iceberg that sunk the Titanic. Simply can't focus with her around? This man was so much more complex than she had realised.

She felt his hand on her shoulder as he whispered her name. Turning to meet his gaze again, she conceded it had not been a decision he had wanted to make; it was one of necessity. The pain of longing in those grey orbs tore at her heart.

She wrapped her arms around him wanting to steal every last moment she could before she had to leave. "Very well," she sighed, her voice quivering. "Just promise you will come back to me."

He squeezed her tightly. "Yes, I promise." He kissed her again. "Now, you must collect whatever you need, Sarah. I will portal you to Stormwind. The Prince himself is keen to get to know more about you and your world."

"Anduin? Really?" She was amazed at this piece of news.

"Yes," Khadgar replied smiling.

"And the King is agreeable to this? I mean, won't he mind my being around the court?" She moved through to the bedchamber and collected some clothing she had purchased along with one or two trinkets.

Khadgar smiled, "Pretty," he commented on some of her choices. She smiled back. "And in answer to your question, I think Varian will be pleased his son has you as a companion while he is away."

"Away?" She inhaled sharply. She looked at him. Fear lay in her eyes. "What, exactly is it you are here to do? Is it by order of the King?" Dread crept over her.

Khadgar nodded. "We have to teleport Dalaran to the Broken Isles. That is why you must not be on this rock when that happens."

She had assumed things had taken a different direction from Warcraft's plot. It hadn't taken three weeks in-game for them to shift the floating metropolis. As time had passed she had believed her mere presence and attendance at court had altered the storyline. How wrong she had been.

She slumped on the bed, spilling some of the contents she'd packed into a hexweave bag. Khadgar, his brow furrowed knelt beside her picking up her belongings. "The King," she whispered with a distant look in her eyes. "Does he have to fight alongside his men?" she asked.

"Yes, that is what Kings do," he replied with the barest of smiles.

It became apparent that some details of the game had been omitted from her previous revelations. "Just how much did I tell you that night in the Golden Keg?"

Khadgar stopped. A dark, foreboding tone resonated in Sarah's voice. "Pretty much the same as what you informed the court and Varian. Why?"

Closing her eyes, she felt a tightness in her chest. The crux of the story was still unknown to him. Placing a hand on his arm, her eyes opened once more and she looked straight at him. She was trembling. "There is more, Khadgar. Much more."

The signature pop of a portal sounded in the upper courtyard of Stormwind Keep. Khadgar stood with Sarah near the base of the steps. Their arrival did not go unnoticed, and they were greeted kindly by those in the vicinity.

The Archmage nodded in response to the salutations and lightly gripped Sarah by the elbow.

"I can't!" she hissed.

"You have to, Sarah. Time is of the essence. I will have you escorted to Prince Anduin." He looked up for a guard.

"But I cannot pretend that I do not know what is going to happen to his father. I just cannot do that to the boy," Sarah protested.

His attention returned to her. "You can, and you will!" He signalled to a guard who was stationed at the top of the steps. Then he turned to face her again. "There are some things Sarah, that simply cannot be changed, no matter how desperately we wish them."

She paused. Filled with sorrow, she leaned her head against his chest. "I should have told you sooner."

"Well," he looked a tad sheepish, "that was hard for you considering I left you in Dalaran... for a long time."

She smirked a little at his obvious embarrassment about that particular decision.

"But," he continued. "It would not have changed the course of events. We have known this war was coming, Sarah. We just didn't know the magnitude with which it would descend. Thanks to you, we now have a clearer picture. You have given us an advantage."

The guard was closing in on them. "What about the King," she whispered, "are you going to try to dissuade him from fighting on the front line?" She looked hopefully into his eyes.

He shook his head. "No. I'm not. Varian must lead his men into war."

"But he's your King, Khadgar and he is going to di..."

"Sarah!" Khadgar's voice had an edge to it. She knew it was not aimed at her, but rather his inner turmoil with the knowledge the King was about to die. The Archmage sighed. "He must go to the Broken Shore. Take comfort in knowing you have done all you can in helping us thus far."

She fought the sting of tears. He was right, yet it seemed so cold, so pointless her even being here if it had not been to change the course of, what ... history? A game plot? The lines between reality and fantasy were fast becoming indecipherable.

"Be strong, Sarah. For me. Please." He clasped her upper arms, making her look up at him. "I will come back for you, I promise."

She smiled wistfully and Khadgar's lips softly brushed hers as he tenderly cupped her face in his hands.

The approaching guard tripped just a few feet from their location, obviously stunned by what he had just witnessed. He quickly righted himself in a clank of armour and weaponry, before coming to a customary halt beside the Archmage and the alien woman.

Sarah and Khadgar smiled at each other knowingly. They suspected they would get that kind of reaction quite a lot from now on. "Stay safe," Khadgar said.

"You too," she replied. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him conjure a portal then vanish into its watery centre before it snapped shut.

"My Lady," the guard said. "Follow me, please." He spun around and started to climb the sweeping stairs to the Keep.

She glanced once more to where the Archmage had disappeared from her sight. Tracing her lips where his had been only seconds before, she wondered why there was always pain in a beautiful moment.

Lowering her eyes, she made her way up to the Keep with a heavy heart.

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