A/N: Welcome back, my lovely friends! I hope you're as excited about this as I am. A huge thanks to all of my returning readers. I would not be here if it wasn't for you guys! xx To any newcomers, it is highly suggested that you check out Betrayal, the first book in this trilogy.

A few things before we get started here. I am going to have a regular posting schedule, so you can expect a new chapter every Monday, unless otherwise specified. As with Betrayal, this story will stay close to the canon lore, but obviously it has been extrapolated upon slightly in the name of many feels. On that same subject, although I have watched the WC3 cutscenes about a thousand times (and taken notes) the dialogue isn't going to line up exactly. Otherwise there wouldn't exactly be much of a point to writing this. And some of that dialogue is just...questionable. Looking at you, Tyra.

Also, a thousand and one thanks right off the bat to Blame the Priest, who has become my official beta and fangirl consultant.

Lastly, the results are in from the poll I took at the end of Betrayal! The results were:

Illidan/Sylvanas: 1

Illidan/OC: 2

Illidan/Tyrande: 6

Illidan/Maiev: 20

Looks like we all know where this is headed...

Anyway, I'm not going to keep you any longer. All rights to Blizzard for Warcraft and its affiliated characters, places, etc. I hope that you all enjoy this second installment in the Betrayal Trilogy, and as always I thank you from the bottom of my heart for the support and inspiration you have all given to me.

Without further ado, I present to you Atonement.

...

before

For as long as she could recall, Tyrande Whisperwind had believed the shimmering light of the full moon to be a sign that she was doing the right thing. It had offered her faith, peace and the silent approval of her goddess. It had granted her faith when she had none, had given its blessing more times than she could even recall, and had guided her through the darkest, most perilous times of her life.

So now, as she stood under it's welcoming glow, Tyrande clung to each of those feelings, to that belief that had carried her for thousands of years, and tried to force a smile upon her lips. It should have been easy, she knew, for the High Priestess had plenty of things to be smile about. But for some reason, she couldn't seem to make it last for more than a few lingering seconds before it vanished, replaced by a sort of wistfulness that she couldn't seem to shake.

"It's just nerves." A quiet voice spoke from somewhere beside her, startling the priestess out of her own thoughts. Tyrande stole a glance from the corner of her eye at the elf that had appeared there, carefully cradling a handful of pale flowers to pin up into her hair. Shandris Feathermoon did her best to offer a reassuring smile as she came up behind the high priestess. "Everything is going to be wonderful."

"I shouldn't have any nerves," Tyrande retorted, her words perhaps a bit too harsh. "Malfurion and I have been together for nearly ten thousand years, Shandris. Sealing that bond in an official marriage to him should be the easiest decision of my life."

Of course, much of that time, they hadn't actually been together, but neither of the women thought it appropriate to point out. Words alone could not properly convey the deep pain, the agony of loneliness, to which Tyrande had been subjected as Malfurion and the rest of the Druids slumbered. The restless nights spent tossing and turning in the emptiness of her bed, left with only her own ceaseless thoughts and the constant vigil of the moon. She tried to understand, she truly did, but that didn't make it any easier for her to live with, as she had done almost every day for the past thousands of years.

Tyrande quickly forced aside those thoughts. This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life, or something along those lines. And she was really was happy, for after centuries of waiting faithfully, she and Malfurion would finally be joined together in the most binding of ways, the unity of two souls entangled together by their unyielding love, and nothing in all the world could ever come between them. And yet...

And yet there was a void in her heart, a hollowness that she had found herself utterly unable to fill. It was the distinct feeling that something was missing. That, in spite of the fact that it would seem Tyrande Whisperwind had everything, there would always be something more she would never have. She closed her eyes for a long moment, allowed her mind to drift back to days she had thought long forgotten, running wild and free in the woods, with no responsibility, no obligations. She thought that she could still hear the echo of childish laughter, could still see a flash of amber eyes watching her every movement.

Shandris had been flitting around her, working quickly to pin up her long navy tresses with the flowers she had gathered. Tyrande had been standing perfectly still all the way, but she flinched away suddenly, her eyes snapping open widely. Shandris let out a startled gasp, a flower slipping from her hold and falling softly to the ground at their feet. "Are you alright?" She asked hurried.

If Tyrande had heard her at all, she didn't let it show. For a few silent seconds, the young sentinel could do nothing but watch as the priestess blinked away the lingering memories of the past. They were faded, mostly, flickering images that danced across her mind but never quite added up to a full scene. She supposed that was to be expected after so many thousands of years; things would begin to slip away out of her reach. And yet, she thought that if she really, really tried, she could still remember the barest brush of a stolen kiss against her lips, and the breaking of her heart as she was forced into making the hardest decision of her life.

And now, that decision had brought her here. Standing before the temple in a white gown, the hems of which were dampened by the dewy grass, and the love of her life awaiting her just beyond the arch. Awaiting the moment they would be bound together for all eternity, their spirits unified as one.

"I am fine," Tyrande assured her at last. The ghost of a smile crossed her lips as she forced back the last of her hesitation, murmuring a soft prayer under her breath, asking Elune to provide her strength where she seemed to have none. "Like you said, it's just nerves."

…

Everything about that night was beautiful. The temple was filled with druids and priestesses alike, with sentinels and dryads and all the allies of the Kaldorei, including the magnificent Dragon Aspects themselves, come to see their beloved leaders, the pair that had guided them through the darkest days and delivered them back into a peaceful existence, as they were joined together in marriage.

When Tyrande appeared in the archway of the temple, the long trail of her gown billowing out behind her, all eyes fell to her. The moon itself seemed to bend in her direction, bathing her in an ethereal glow, and-

"-And when Malfurion's eyes fell upon her, seeing his lover for the first time in centuries, it was as though time itself grinded to a halt, so enamored it was by the bond that they shared-"

A low growl interrupted the story, echoing off the stone walls and freezing the very air that it pierced. From where she lingered in the doorway, Maiev Shadowsong bit down softly on her bottom lip, her eyes fixed on the caged beast before her.

"Why," came a deep, bellowing voice, the kind of which could chill bones. From somewhere in the darkness, a flash of half-concealed emerald eyes rose in an attempt to meet her own. "Do you insist on tormenting me so relentlessly?"

Maiev scowled back, her knuckles going white from how hard she gripped the stone arch. Thousands and thousands of years spent guarding him, spent ensuring that he would never again threaten the survival of the night elves. She was as much a prisoner here as he was, incarcerated by the oath she had taken. Once, in days that now seemed a lifetime ago, she had loved him with all that she had. But any feelings she may have harbored for him had long since been burned up in the fires of her anger.

Because you have tormented me, she thought, but said nothing at all. It would have made no difference, and she just didn't feel up to invoking his rage as her biting words had done so many times before. Instead, she merely shrugged and turned away, content to leave him to his solitude and shadows and the misery that had been his sole companion for so many long years.

No, she had no love left for the Betrayer. She had no love left for anything.

...

A new beginning.

That's what this would be. With her fingers resting lightly on the wooden railing of the ship, and her eyes fixed on the seemingly endless waves before her, Jaina Proudmoore took a deep, shaky breath. In her short years, she had been all over these oceans, and still she found herself feeling overwhelmed and unwelcomed by their vastness, by the way they stretched on all around her.

She had never been the sort of person to desire any adventure, never drawn by anything beyond the safety that had been offered to her by the walls of Dalaran and the pages of her spell books. But adventure, it seemed, had found its way to her, and Jaina found that had little choice but to follow along as it dragged her by the hair right into the heart of it all.

And now, she had been forced to turn away from everything she had ever known. She had watched as her entire world was torn down around her. She had abandoned everything, everyone, she had ever loved, and she had left with what few survivors remained in the wake of destruction that had swept through the once proud kingdom of Lordaeron.

"Don't look back," she whispered to herself, words swallowed up in the wind of the open sea. Jaina closed her eyes against the sudden sting of tears in her eyes, blaming it on the saltwater breeze instead of the surge of memories that flashed across her mind. More than once she had felt the longing to turn right back around and go home, and each time she had to remind herself that there was nothing left for her there. Her home was gone, and there was little point in dwelling on it now, for it certainly wasn't going to bring it back.

All she could do now was move forward. West, the Prophet had said, to Kalimdor. As far as she was concerned, listening to him was the only choice she had. She'd seen what had become of those who hadn't heeded his warnings. Besides, it wasn't as if she had many other options, unless she wanted to end up dead too.

Snapping her eyes open, Jaina shoved aside any and all thoughts of what lay behind her and focused instead on thoughts of her future. She didn't know what awaited her on the distant shores of the foreign land, but she couldn't shake this tugging feeling that whatever it was, it was bigger than she could even dare to imagine. Something was changing, and although she knew not what it was, she got the feeling that she would undeniably be affected. She was going to have to be brave now, to hold herself together if she had any hopes of holding together all those that had dared to follow her. She was going to have to be strong if she was going to lead them all to safety from the horrors they had left behind them.

"A new beginning," she whispered to herself, pushing a hand through her wind-blown locks of golden hair. She could only hope that this one would present to her a happier ending than the last.