#shey gets a mention because she is my alliance commander lol as is aulara since that's his wife but i'm not tagging either of them

[sheyshen]

An idea I've been playing with a lot recently has been of Kieran's eyes turning silver come Tyrande going night warrior. And it's been such a fun idea to work with especially for someone like him who tends to carve his own path rather than fit in with the crowds.

And so a little fic came about! I hope you all enjoy! <3

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Smoke poured from the burnt husk of Teldrassil, filling the sky and blocking out the stars. Though they were camped deep into Darkshore, the devastating sight was still clear to see. Kieran watched silently from where he rested, seated on the trunk of a fallen tree. Whether he was awaiting orders or an arrow through the throat, he wasn't sure at the moment, but the rest was welcome nonetheless. Seeing the tree in its current state caused guilt to gnaw at him, making him wonder if there had been more he could’ve done to stop it from happening in the first place. 

Tearing his eyes from the tree he scanned the camp, watching the night elves ready weapons and blessings as they waited for their high priestess to finish preparations for a ceremony to drive the horde back. Guarded glances and glares shot his way made it clear that his presence was merely tolerated, and where he watched them they too watched him in return. He rubbed the crescent necklace he wore with his thumb before tucking it into the alliance tabard that kept the gathering army from loosing their arrows in his direction.

Glowing green eyes amongst a sea of silver.

A familiar head of white hair strode purposefully through the camp, accompanied by a squad of worgen and a handful of adventurers following close behind. Shey had been one of the few voices that had kept his head on his shoulders after stepping through the portal to Stormwind with his injured wife in his arms and his willingness to share what details of the Horde's movements in Darkshore and Ashenvale earned him a place amongst those seeking to push back. A place that he had been forced upon him before he had had the chance to offer his bow.

Shandris's approach pulled his attention away from his thoughts and the alliance commander. She jerked her head in the direction of the dais that was set up near a moonwell. "It's time. Commander Wrynn has brought some reinforcements, and Minn'do will be starting the ritual shortly." She watched him as he stood, her expression unreadable. The rage and grief that must’ve been warring inside her were carefully masked to keep those under her command focused. He couldn’t help but admire that strength.

Stretching a moment he nodded and strode forward heading to join the gathering as Tyrande turned her attention to those before her. He took no insult as Shandris kept a step behind him as they made their way, watching his back.

Finding a place at the edge of those gathered, Shandris stood beside him as Tyrande spoke, concern flashing across her face as the ritual progressed. The moon that was once full and bright now hung ominously in the sky, darkened by the grief of Elune's children. Energy flowed from the moon and the moonwell, washing over the people gathered, a blessing or a curse, a vow of vengeance and a call for war. Like the moon Tyrande's eyes darkened to black and as the ritual continued Kieran noted similar in some touched by the spell. While not every eye changed, all those who stood before the high priestess seemed invigorated, hearts steeled and ready for battle, even himself.

As one a roar rose up, a call to battle, and as the ritual completed Tyrande took up her own weapons and led her people out into the woods. He and Shandris watched them go, their role was to scout and eliminate any threat that might try and break the lines and to support the main force rather than rush in. Shandris pulled out a map, as they called for their mounts, reviewing their plans without meeting his gaze. Kieran patted the nightsaber as she approached, Nara leaning into his touch before he mounted and readied his bow. The nightsaber usually acted as his wife's mount but with the circumstances, they had both felt it best if she went along and Theron, Kieran's wolf, stayed with his wife and daughter. Loki came up beside them, leaning affectionately against his leg as he double-checked his arrows, as if sensing that his thoughts began to return to worrying about his family.

Once supplies and weapons were set, Kieran called over to Shandris that he was ready. She brought her mount to him, nodding before meeting his eyes. The look that flashed across her face wasn't what he expected, surprise. It was short-lived as it was quickly replaced by what he swore was a smug smile. Before he could comment she urged her mount forward and rushed ahead. He followed after only a moment of hesitation.

That she was meant to lead had been already planned, a night elf's vision suited the dark more than his own, but she left him with little chance to keep pace with her. Oddly he found he had little trouble navigating the forest and caught up to her quickly enough. The steely mask had returned, the mantle of general heavy in her posture, but as he approached he caught a smirk before she turned back to the forest and the pair made their way along their route.

Destruction was everywhere, corpses of Horde and Alliance passed as they made their way, ignoring paths that were clearly blocked and focusing on areas that could hide the enemy. Passing a broken-down shredder, Kieran caught a look at his reflection in the windshield. Glowing eyes of silver blinked back at him where once there had been green. The sight caused him to pause, certain it was a trick of the light he ignored it and continued on.

They encountered pockets of resistance, a gathering of forsaken that were picking through a fallen encampment, adventurers seeking to make a quick coin. A handful of orcs who had been in the process of packing up surrendered immediately, the curious looks he received from them as they told what they knew of the forces that they faced, as well as the locations of nearby camps in exchange for their freedom struck him as strange. Perhaps they recognized him, the now former Horde commander fighting alongside the Night Elven general, perhaps they thought him a prisoner, forced to fight his allies. Either way, once they had spilled all they knew they took their things and retreated before Shandris reconsidered her show of mercy. He had expected her to have executed them on the spot, but their disinclination to continue to fight alongside the horde’s forces that remained and the chance to gain information that could turn the tide of battle proved stronger than her desire for revenge. At the moment at least.

The din of battle echoed nearby, shouts of alarm up ahead as the enemy engaged. The smell of fire and smoke filled the area as the winds shifted. Shandris bit back a curse as she signaled for them to follow a path toward the remnants of Auberdine. The longer they took on their scouting the longer the general was from her high priestess’s side, and the more the worry became obvious on her face. The pair banked, heading to the beach, and signaled a pair of passing hippogryph riders.

As she spoke to them Kieran dismounted and made his way through the ruins. Bow in hand and arrow knocked, he picked his way through, both sabers following behind him similarly on edge. He doubted there would be more than a scout or two in the area but he could never be too careful. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary he made his way to the water, relaxing for a moment to look at his reflection. The looks from Shandris and the orcs, the reflection in the broken-down shredder, the quality of his night vision, it was all starting to feel less like a trick of the light.

He stood at the water’s edge, squatting down, and looked at the reflection on the rippling surface. The darkened moon hung overhead, feeling larger and more foreboding as time passed, and directly in front of him a pair of silver eyes watched him. Touching his face and watching the reflection mirror the movement, closing his eyes he took a deep breath and opened them again, the silver glow remained. It had been no trick of the light.

“Kieran,” Shandris spoke quietly as she strode up to him. Her voice was stern but calm, smooth, attempting to avoid startling him as he looked like a fool staring at himself in the ocean. He stood quickly, turning his attention fully on her and noting the twitch of a smile that appeared for a moment as she continued. “We’re to return to the main force and make our report.” He nodded and made his way to Nara. As he settled himself in the saddle she added in. “The color suits you.” 

He turned to ask what she meant but she had already turned and made her way to her own mount before he could. Even still he knew what she was referring to, a blessing from the mourning Elune, silver eyes like the moon when it was full, like the eyes of his wife and her people. Now his people, and his new home.