c22

Night elves had an interesting approach to weddings. Back before the second invasion of the Burning Legion had forced them out of isolation and they were still living in widely dispersed communities, word would be spread and people were allowed to just attend as they pleased. There was no set date and the ceremony would be performed whenever a priestess of Elune decided to show up.

This lackadaisical approach, while appealing in many ways, was not exactly practical when there was a lot going on. It was decided that a touch of human organizational pedantry was required. Luna wanted to keep things mostly night elven because it would be a fresh experience and Colette didn't really care either way, so Arko and Jessir didn't argue about the need for a bit of scheduling.

This was all very agreeable to Harry as he adhered to ancient male tradition and let the girls do all the planning.

Ducking out usually meant spending time in his workshop, but on this particular day he was going on a pseudo-diplomatic field trip. Garona attached herself to his side as soon as she heard that he was doing it, partly to get away from the wedding planning herself and partly out of concern.

Azshara was still out there, after all, even if Harry doubted she was waiting to jump him at the first opportunity.

They also took Sally Whitemane with them, the former Scarlet Inquisitor having mellowed out a bit in the months that she'd been held captive. Good behavior should be rewarded and the appropriately-named white-haired woman hadn't threatened to smite anyone in over a week.

Their destination? Silvermoon City, home of the weird melange of blood elves and high elves.

As it turned out, a lot of the restored Forsaken elves didn't want to call themselves blood elves in light of the fact that Kael'Thas Sunstrider was now confirmed to have fully joined up with the Burning Legion. On the other side, the blood elves would probably feel silly if they announced to the world 'our bad, please call us high elves again' or something.

Harry potentially had a solution to that problem, as well as their more important magic addiction problem. It was a solution they would probably all hate, which was how you knew it was a good one. Compromise, after all, was the art of making everyone accept an unsatisfying course of action.

But first, they had to actually get into the city. Since no word had been sent and Quel'Thalas was currently part of the Horde, seeing a human, a brown half-orc and whatever they thought he was drop in front of the main gate on a flying cloud left the guards paralyzed with indecision for a long moment.

"State your names and business, travelers." One of the two guards rallied admirably, relying on age-old door guard protocol.

"I'm Harry, these are Sally and Garona." Harry introduced with an amused smile. Apparently his reputation didn't quite precede him here. "We're here to take a walk through your fair city and speak to your leaders."

Some recognition entered the guard's eyes and he developed a very distinctive 'this is above my paygrade' kind of expression, but remained admirably composed. "I see. I presume that the Regent Lord or Ranger General are expecting you, then?"

"Yes." Harry lied.

"Very well, I will send word of your arrival." The guard nodded warily. "Be on your way, then."

"Thank you." The three visitors gave shallow bows to the guard and entered the city.

"Why did you lie to him?" Garona asked quietly so as to not be overheard.

"A little test for Sylvanas." He answered, just as quietly. "She owes me quite a debt, so if she refuses to see me in a fit of pique just because I showed up unannounced, I'll have a better understanding of her personality."

"The Banshee Queen is treacherous and untrustworthy." Sally weighed in with her own opinion, but at least she wasn't shouting. That was a considerable improvement.

"If Sylvanas was still the Banshee Queen that would almost certainly be true." He conceded. "However, she's been properly alive again for months at this point. The lingering impulses of undeath will have faded by now, leaving only the woman she truly is."

"Hmph." Sally clearly wasn't buying it.

They walked in silence for a while, simply taking in the city. It had recovered admirably from the Scourge invasion, but the signs were still there, most notably in the population itself.

While no elven city would ever be as densely populated as a human one, Silvermoon was almost a ghost town even with the recent infusion of restored Forsaken elves. With 90% of their population slaughtered, the city was simply far too big and many buildings were left abandoned.

Even more than that, though, the people themselves were generally not looking good. In comparison to their night elf cousins, these were looking much less healthy. Their features were sharper, sometimes outright gaunt, and many possessed the telltale green glow of fel taint in their eyes.

Harry strongly suspected that unless they got a new source of magic to sustain them, there were only two ways for them to go. Either falling fully into the embrace of fel magic or degenerating further until they were barely recognizable.

Fortunately, he'd come here with a solution.

It wasn't even a full hour of them meandering about the city before another guard approached them with a summons from the ruling council. They were escorted to Sunfury Spire and then led to a private meeting room, where the leaders of the blood/high elves waited.

Harry was familiar with Regent Lor'themar Theron from the diplomatic summit in Theramore, and he recognized Sylvanas of course, but the two other male elves were unknown to him.

"Regent Lord." He nodded to the elf in question. "Sylvanas, good to see you again. Being alive suits you."

The former Banshee Queen gave him a complicated expression, like she couldn't decide where to be disdainful or gracious. The end result was a rather intense stare.

"Lord Archmage." Lor'themar returned with equal politeness. The Regent Lord looked shockingly grizzled for an elf. His white hair was still silky, but his face showed signs of severe, prolonged stress and he had a nasty scar crossing over his ruined left eye. "Last we heard, you had been taken captive by Queen Azshara."

"My girls rescued me a couple of days ago." Harry answered the unspoken question, turning to smile at Sylvanas. "I'm told that they considered asking you for help as well, but decided against it after hearing how full your hands are with re-integrating your people."

Just bringing the Forsaken elves back to life hadn't been the end. Many of them were traumatized wrecks barely capable of functioning in normal society, and said normal society wasn't sure how to deal with them either. Sylvanas pretty much had to stick around and be a visible symbol for her people.

A little of the tension in her shoulders eased at that, but her reply was still stiff. "I could have afforded the time. There are still Forsaken waiting to be restored to life."

Ah yes, the ones whose bodies were too ruined for the Restoration Serum to repair. Those needed his personal touch and new bodies. Go figure that Sylvanas would use them as an excuse to hide her disgruntlement at not being invited to join the rescue mission. She was no doubt peeved at missing out on the chance to reduce her personal debt.

"I'll get to them as soon as I can." He assured. "But today I'm here for other reasons."

"What reasons would those be?" Lor'themar asked, but then immediately backpedaled. "Ah, forgive me, I forgot my manners. You already know Sylvanas Windrunner, but these are Grand Magister Rommath and Ranger General Halduron Brightwing."

Oh? Then Sylvanas hadn't been given back her old rank? Probably too politically messy in light of some of her actions as the Banshee Queen, to say nothing of the issue of the restored Forsaken. No doubt it was easier to simply create a new position on the ruling council of Quel'Thalas.

"A pleasure meeting you." Harry nodded to the two hitherto silent male elves, which they returned with small nods of their own. "And my companions are Garona Halforcen, whom I'm sure you've heard has now been freed of Shadow Council mind control, and Sally Whitemane… let's call her on vacation from her work in the Scarlet Crusade."

"A prisoner, you mean." The woman in question snapped grouchily.

"You're being treated far too well for a prisoner. No, you're more of an unwilling and very cranky guest."

"You brought the High Inquisitor of the Scarlet Crusade here?" Sylvanas was definitely not happy. "Do you have any idea how many Forsaken this crazed zealot has killed?"

"Not nearly enough!" Sally snarled back. "How many people have you killed, Banshee Queen?"

"Ladies, please!" Harry interjected before they could really get going. "If we focus on who killed who we'll never get anywhere."

He was tempted to mention that they should both be getting along swimmingly since they both hated the Scourge, but that was dangerous territory to go into.

"Quite." Lor'themar wanted to get away from that minefield just as badly as him. "Why did you come to Silvermoon? The guard said you had a meeting with us and I am quite sure you arranged for no such thing."

"Two things, actually, one personal and one business." Harry magnificently ignored the censure implied in lying to the guard. "On the personal side of things, I came to invite Sylvanas to my wedding."

There was a moment of surprised silence before Sylvanas replied, in a tone reminiscent of daggers being unsheathed in the dark. "Not as the bride, I should hope? I would not be as tolerant of your antics as Proudmoore."

"As a guest." Alas, but Sylvanas was one of those women that don't play well with others. Too willful. Even with how much she owed him, she hadn't hesitated to draw a line in the sand.

"Very well, I will be there." A wedding invitation, however, was not so easily refused.

"Wonderful, I'm sure Luna will be happy to hear it." The other three would be indifferent.

"Congratulations." Lor'themar said genuinely "And your matter of business?"

"I can fix your magical addiction problem."

There was a moment of shocked silence, and then all of them except Sylvanas started talking at once. The former Banshee Queen had only snapped to full attention and was now staring at him with calculating eyes.

It took about a minute for The other three to calm down and decide that Lor'themar should be the one speaking, although Grand Magister Rommath was staring at him with the kind of covetous intensity normally only seen on thieves when they find a room full of gold.

"How?" The Lord Regent managed to not immediately demand it be done.

"You might have heard that I've taken upon myself the position of Guardian and Speaker for Azeroth the Titan?" Harry prompted, getting nods of confirmation. "Well, that affords me enough trust from her that she allows me access to her blood."

"The blood of a titan." Rommath murmured. "The Sunwell was originally ignited with a vial of water taken from the Well of Eternity. A single drop would be more than potent enough to restore the Sunwell, especially if it were given willingly."

"And what do you gain from this?" Sylvanas asked coolly.

"Ah, well, Grand Magister Rommath made a false assumption to start with." Harry nodded towards the mage. "I wouldn't just be giving you that drop of titan blood to do with as you wish. In fact, I never said anything about restoring the Sunwell. After what happened with the Well of Eternity and the Sunwell, I'm sure you can imagine why I would be leery of recreating such an easily misused font of raw magic."

Rommath looked a little disgruntled, but Lor'themar was merely grim in his reply. "Yes, I suppose you would be remiss in your duties if you did that. What is your proposal, then?"

"You're probably going to hate it." Harry warned.

"There is very little to like about our current circumstances." The Regent Lord countered.

Fair enough.

"I actually have two options to present to you, although they are the same in function." He began explaining. "Instead of creating a well of energy for you to draw from, I would forge a metal idol and quench it in Azeroth's blood. Instead of radiating power wildly like the Sunwell, the idol would function as a conduit for you to swear an oath in exchange for a steady supply of magic."

"You would have us bind ourselves in eternal service?" Sylvanas demanded angrily.

"It's the only way I can make certain that none of the nefarious types you surely have among your population benefit from this." Harry pointed out reasonably. "The terms of the oath would be quite generous – as long as you don't consort with Azeroth's enemies then you won't even notice a difference. You could be paragons of virtue or cruel monsters in the eyes of other mortals, as long as you did nothing to harm the world itself."

That took much of the wind out of the sails of Sylvanas' anger, but she wasn't willing to admit it. "We would need to see the exact wording of the oath before we even begin deliberating on it."

"Of course."

"You mentioned there being two options." Halduron Brightwing said softly, speaking up for the first time.

"Yes." Harry nodded. "The first option is to swear yourself to Azeroth directly. The second is that I dedicate the idol to Elune and you swear your oaths to her instead. They each have their advantages and disadvantages."

"Continue." Lor'themar said after taking a deep breath.

"Azeroth is yet unborn, so she sleeps and dreams. In practice, this means that she won't, can't, ask anything of you most of the time, but it also means that isn't very good with details. If she is ever threatened enough to panic then she is going to throw you at the source of it without regard for whether you can do anything about it or not. Say, if Sargeras showed up, she will send everyone down to the smallest child to fight him."

"Not ideal, but if a threat of that scale is upon us then none of us may live to see another day anyway." Lor'themar allowed. "And Elune?"

"Elune is the opposite. She is more likely to influence you on a day-to-day basis, but less likely to throw your lives away in a blind panic. There is also a chance that you may revert back to being night elves if you bind yourself to her."

To say nothing of the messy issues of pride and politics that would come with that option.

"And how much influence would you have over us?" Sylvanas asked, having never let up on her intense stare.

"None in particular. Think of me as more of a notary."

"What about the Light?" Brightwing interjected.

"Impossible." Rommath shot down before Harry could. "An oath like that requires that there be someone for us to swear to. There are the Naaru, of course, but that would be no better than swearing to Azeroth or Elune."

"The Naaru aren't even an option I'm willing to consider." Harry shook his head. "They're dogmatic and inflexible and most importantly, I don't trust them. It's either Azeroth, Elune or we say I just came here to invite Sylvanas to my wedding."

"We will need to deliberate on this." Lor'themar concluded predictably.

"Of course."

A few minutes later, Harry and the two girls were back on the streets of Silvermoon, continuing their earlier walk.

"Do you think they will take the deal?" Garona asked quietly.

"Hopefully."

"What purpose does doing this even serve?" Sally groused.

"Many purposes."

Giving Azeroth more guaranteed protectors was always good, but it would also strain the elves' relationship with the Horde, especially if they choose Elune.

XXXXX

On Earth, alarm clocks were a hated invention. From the old timey mechanical ones that created an unholy racket to the digital ones that only beeped softly in an attempt to not offend the sleeper they were meant to awaken, all of them were despised more than a messenger bearing bad news. Only the most psychotic of morning persons did not bear at least some kind of resentment for alarm clocks in their soul.

As he was awoken by the pecking of a raven's beak upon his metal skull, Harry wondered if alarm clocks were really all that bad.

The raven croaked at him, mocking and malicious, its beady eyes staring soullessly.

"What does it want?" Arko moaned, burying her head further into the crook of his neck and vaguely swinging her hand in the direction of the offending bird.

The raven easily dodged the clumsy attempt at murdering it, jumping atop the headboard of the bed and staring down at Harry ominously. That didn't necessarily mean much, because ravens were somewhat specialized in being ominous, so they couldn't really do anything else.

"What is it?" Harry asked grumpily.

"Visitor. Stone giant." The raven croaked.

Stone giant? That could only be…

"Karen?" Luna murmured sleepily.

Harry sighed. That meant he couldn't just ignore this. Ah, the difficulties of working on a nocturnal schedule. Your non-night elf visitors might think they were being polite when they showed up in the middle of the day, but they really weren't.

"Alright, let me up." He said, wiggling his way out from under the pile of flesh.

A litany of grouchy protests greeted him as the girls moved around to release him, immediately collapsing to fill in the vacuum he left behind once he was out. Harry gave it a mournful stare, already missing his spot.

Did we put too many comfort enchantments on the bed? He wondered as he put on a silk morning robe. As the number of bed partners grew, it got harder and harder to get comfortable with all the knees, elbows, hair, body heat and everything else in play. Commensurately, the number of enchantments on the bed to deal with these issues had also grown, until the bed was practically a heretical Slaaneshi abomination designed to lure you in with the sweet whisper of eternal comfort.

Shaking his head and making a mental note to check the bed for demonic possession later, Harry made his way down to the front door of the tower to await his guest.

She came into view barely a minute later, all eighteen feet of her, striding forth with more poise than an animated statue had any business having.

"Guardian." She greeted.

"Karen." Harry smiled back, partly to be polite and partly because that name was still funny. "What brings you by?"

She had said that she would speak to a 'Keeper Archaedas' about a collaboration on Azeroth's protection, but then she'd gone radio silent.

"To ask for aid." Karen said bluntly. "I wish for you to use the Heart of Azeroth to attempt reactivating Keeper Archaedas."

"What happened to him?" He leaned in with interest.

"Adventurers invaded the halls of Uldaman and ransacked it. I have spent the time since we met clearing out the dwarves' archeological expeditions."

Harry suppressed a wince. Something told him that she hadn't been too gentle about that task. Damn it, if he'd known what was going on, he could have talked to Magni about it. There was no benefit to damaging the dwarves.

"Alright. Let me just get dressed and then we can go."

XXXXX

Uldaman was a titan facility located in the Badlands, which was technically speaking part of the dwarven kingdom of Khaz Modan. In practice, the area had been so ruined by the orcs that there was little of value there.

But this was no time to be adding to the list of reasons of why orcs were an invasive species and should be treated as such!

Harry had been relieved to see that there weren't too many dwarf corpses around Uldaman. Karen had apparently gone for scare tactics rather than wholesale slaughter when she drove off the archaeologists.

"You know they'll be back." He commented as they entered Uldaman proper. "The Archaeologist's Guild is pretty keen on discovering their history and a titan complex like this is too tempting a prize."

"Then they will die." Karen said stiffly. "There are more important things at stake than the curiosity of the dwarves."

"I'll talk to Magni and see if he can't get them to ease up a bit. Would you be willing to at least talk to them instead of just driving them out?" He suggested.

Karen was silent for a long while, so Harry busied himself with looking at their surroundings. The architecture was clearly titan in origin, although it didn't feel as if it had been made by their hand directly. The ambiance was somewhat spoiled by the signs of enthusiastic dwarfery, though. The archaeologists had left traces of their presence everywhere even after Karen's efforts at cleaning house.

"Perhaps. The world has changed and it is clear that we Watchers have failed in our duties." She finally said, a hint of sadness in her tone. "The final decision will lay with Keeper Archaedas, if he can be restored."

"That's more than reasonable." Harry agreed.

The rest of their trip passed in silence, taking almost two hours to traverse on foot despite them moving at a good pace. Uldaman was quite a large complex by mortal standards, which made him wonder how big the ones made by actual titans were.

Finally, they reached the Stone Vault and Archaedas' Chamber. The Keeper himself wasn't looking too good.

"Oof, they really did a number on him." Harry noted. The ancient stone being looked like little more than a vandalized statue. One of his legs was wrecked and there were cracks along his arms. Most tellingly, the glow in his eyes was completely gone.

"He will be able to repair himself if we can awaken him." Karen said. "Alas, my permissions to do such things have become outdated during my captivity in Karazhan, and the mortals have disabled all the other Watchers."

"But the Heart of Azeroth may allow me to bypass that issue." Harry nodded in understanding. "I'll give it a try, but I can't make any promises. Resetting you was a lot easier than this looks to be."

"I understand."

There was no obvious socket or keyhole to stick his staff into, so he just laid his staff on the Archaedas and tried to access his systems the same as he'd done to Karen to change her name.

Harry frowned with concentration. He couldn't quite sense anything, but it didn't feel like it was just a hunk of rock either. Pushing his magic in more forcefully, he lurched forward when something abruptly grabbed it and pulled, draining him considerably. He'd had the dubious pleasure of experiencing both Mana Drain and Mana Burn and this had felt about as bad as both. Not only did it leave him with the familiar sensation of magical exhaustion-induced migraine, but his body also felt raw in the way that only having your magic 'ignited' could cause. Fortunately, Atiesh and its connection to Azeroth was already soothing the worst of it.

On the upside, he was now able to look into Archaedas' operating system. Apparently, the Keeper had just been out of power. Obvious, in hindsight.

"Oh yeah, this is going to take a while." Harry sighed. He was getting the equivalent of a screen full of error messages from Archaedas.

"We have time." Karen said virtuously.

"You have time. I'm getting married in a few days." Harry corrected with a frown. "Ideally, I'd like to get this done today, or at least enough that you can finish it up yourself."

"That would be acceptable." She agreed.

"Right then, let's see if I can untangle this mess…"

Diving once again into the strangely alien-but-familiar style of magical computer architecture the titans had installed in their creations, he began dismissing error messages. Much of them were incomprehensible even though they basically beamed their meanings directly to his brain, but the general gist of it felt like damage reports.

Pushing past that and into the actual system got him his first Access Denied, but the Heart of Azeroth once more acted as a universal administrator password. The titans were either dogshit at designing security features, or it was simply an unavoidable consequence of this being Azeroth's cradle.

Alright, now how do I give Karen permission to take over?

Harry dedicated a good ten seconds to this conundrum before something occurred to him.

Don't tell me…

"Karen, could you come here for a second?" He asked politely.

"Yes?" She obliged.

Without asking for permission, Harry touched his staff to her leg and spoke with Intent. "Change Designation [Karen] to [Maiden of Virtue]. Administrator Override."

The glow in her eyes flickered for a moment in her version of a blink. "What did you do?"

"Try connecting to Archaedas now." Harry instructed without answering the question.

The newly re-renamed Maiden of Virtue did as he bit and smiled. "I have access!"

SON OF A…!

"That's great." Harry kept the exasperation off his face. His little joke had seemed funny at the time, but he hadn't considered the notion that he was basically changing the IPs on a networked computer. Real genius move there, me. "You mind if I look around a bit before I go back?"

The Maiden of Virtue hesitated for a second before answering. "Very well, but take nothing and understand that Keeper Archaedas may revoke your access once he is awakened."

"Of course."

Leaving the Maiden of Virtue to her task, Harry ambled towards the obvious vault behind Archaedas. The dwarves had clearly focused much of their efforts here, which could only mean that it had to be something good.

This proved to be true. In obvious pride of place sat a collections of large platinum discs, each one bigger than him and probably weighing at least a dozen tons. Runic script ran in hypnotic circles across their surface, sometimes shifting and squirming in his vision in ways that defied mortal comprehension.

More than anything to do with their physical appearance, Harry could sense that these discs had Weight.

"What are these?" He asked, distractedly, unable to tear his eyes away from them.

"Those are the Discs of Norgannon. They transcribe the history of Azeroth as it unfolds."

Harry spun around to look at her incredulously, an action lost on the Maiden of Virtue because she was busy with Archaedas.

How did I not know about these things?

Probably because they had no connection to any sexy girls or cool-sounding weapons/spells. But still, these Discs were easily the most valuable artifact on the planet. Either they were somehow enchanted to only record events considered significant by Azeroth's inhabitants – a difficult, but theoretically possible bit of spellwork – or they recorded literally everything that occurred. No matter which it was, they would contain virtually all knowledge worth knowing.

Harry was seized by a profound sense of greed. If he could take possession of the Discs of Norgannon and learn to draw information from them, then nothing would be beyond his reach. The latter would probably be the work of a lifetime, as he doubted the Discs were made with mortals in mind, but if it could be done…

Sadly, he doubted that Archaedas was going to be willing to let them out of his sight.

"Do you think you could convince Keeper Archaedas to share some of the information in them?" Harry asked hopefully. "It would be a tremendous boon in my task of protecting Azeroth."

"Keeper Archaedas has always been zealous in his protection of the Discs, but I will ask." The Maiden of Virtue confirmed.

The urge to simply steal them was still there, but he tamped down on it. Stealing from anyone but your enemies was a bad habit to get into.

XXXXX

While there was some merit to holding the wedding in Darnassus and the Temple of the Moon there, Tyrande hadn't argued for it very hard. The Guardian Tower was a nice venue and also at least semi-dedicated to Elune thanks to Luna. As an additional benefit, the location was also far more central and allowed for more attendees.

Sentinels and curious civilians had wandered in from Astranaar. Playful dryads that Luna had apparently befriended had come out of the woods, mostly to nibble on the fruit spread out across the tables. The Moonlight Dragonflight, now thankfully no longer as excessively playful as it had been when newly hatched, was also enjoying the attention they were getting.

Unorthodox as the wedding was, it was still a joyous occasion. One that made her mind wander to her own relationship with Malfurion. They had been mates for over ten thousand years, yet spent only a paltry sum of those years together, separated by duty. Seeing Luna, as a fellow priestess of Elune, and Arko and Jessir, as fellow night elves, jump forward so carelessly made her wonder what they were waiting for. She and Malfurion had long known that they were meant for each other, so why not take the final step in their union?

Tyrande was broken out of her thoughts when the subject of them approached, the crease in his brow indicating confusion.

"This is far too reminiscent of Highborne debauchery for my tastes, but they seem happy together." He said diplomatically.

"I do not understand it either, but it is not our place to speak on the matter." She shook her head.

Frankly, she expected Arko and Jessir to become dissatisfied with this marriage in time. Then again, they were standing right there while Harry tried to convince Jaina Proudmoore that she should join in as a bride instead of as a guest and didn't seem upset, so maybe not.

Hopefully, Jaina remained strong in her refusal. Tyrande had already needed to get creative with the wedding ceremony to accommodate five people and would rather not add a sixth at the last minute.

Or seventh, if she was reading Luna's body language with that draenei correctly…

Malfurion was right to say it invoked memories of Highborne debauchery, but at least the celebration was being kept dignified instead of it being full of drunkards and orgies. She was willing to accommodate quite a bit in recognition of this being a rather unusual wedding, but that would have been several steps too far.

As if challenged by her thoughts, the distinctive glowing circle of an incoming teleport appeared in the designated arrival area, depositing a guest that was more than just 'a few steps' beyond tolerance.

Tyrande had not seen Azshara in her new naga form, but she would recognize that presence anywhere.

What? Her thoughts stuttered and her body locked up with indecision. She had been so far out of a combat mindset that this blindsided her utterly.

More worryingly, she had no weapons or armor and there were non-combatants everywhere.

"Azshara! I was starting to think you wouldn't come." Harry greeted gregariously, smiling widely at the fallen kaldorei queen.

"Oh, I wouldn't miss it for the world, Harry." Azshara said back, also smiling.

"What?" This time her shock was so great that she unintentionally verbalized it. Next to her, Malfurion was similarly stunned. The silence and frozen bodies around her at least assured Tyrande that she wasn't the only one who was having trouble understanding this… situation.

"Let me introduce you to everyone." Harry offered his hand.

"It would be lovely to meet your lovers properly this time." And Azshara accepted, holding on to his elbow and slithering along as he led her around the grounds.

"What?!" Tyrande hissed once again, bewilderment only growing.

"I… what?" Malfurion echoed next to her.

Nobody seemed to have an answer to give. Luna acted as if having Azshara show up was completely normal, but that was Luna. Everyone else was just as frozen as them.

"And I believe you already know Tyrande Whisperwind and Malfurion Stormrage." Harry inevitably brought the monster on his arm over to them.

"We have met, though it has been a long time." Azshara said with a smirk. "You seem to be doing well for yourselves."

"Harry, what is the meaning of this." Tyrande had enough of this nonsense. "Why is she here?"

"I was invited." Azshara answered haughtily. "I could hardly refuse, given our history."

"History?! You are enemies!" Tyrande's tone implied that they had better be enemies.

"That's exactly why I invited her." Harry nodded. "We have a saying where I come from: keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer."

"Are you certain that you are applying that saying in the intended spirit?" Malfurion asked dubiously, casting wary glances at Azshara.

"The man who came up with the saying beheaded two of his king's favorite concubines to make a point. I'm sure that he would approve of my methods."

"What an interesting-sounding man." Azshara chuckled. "I think I'll go mingle for a bit and share the privilege of my presence with the rest of your guests."

She disengaged from Harry and slithered off to do as she said, leaving the three of them alone.

"Are you insane?!"

The question, much as she agreed with it, had not come from Tyrande. It had instead originated from Jessir and Arko, who had been keeping a wary distance from Azshara until she left.

"No, I don't believe so." Harry replied placidly.

"You invited Azshara to our wedding!" Arko whisper-screamed. "What if she gets bored of playing nice?"

"We can only hope."

"You want her to turn hostile?" Tyrande frowned, trying to figure out why he would wish for such a thing.

"By accepting my hospitality she placed herself under my protection, as well as accepted the curse waiting to strike anyone violating it." Harry explained with a smirk. "Unfortunately, Azshara is exactly the type to mind her manners at all times, but it's worth a try."

"So it will likely do nothing, and we now have one of the most charismatic and manipulative individuals on Azeroth interacting with all your guests." Tyrande pointed out, very displeased.

Even as they spoke, she could already see the fallen queen forming crowds around her, even though people should absolutely know better. So many potential spies…

"Don't worry, I asked Garona to keep track of everyone that talks to her. It'll be a useful test to measure how resistant people are to her charms."

"Are you… using our guests as test subjects for an experiment?" Jessir asked, her stare boring holes into him.

Harry produced a glass of wine from somewhere and proceeded to take a very long, very slow drink. It was clearly meant to spare him from the need to answer.

XXXXX

Azshara was having a good time, unexpectedly so.

She had expected her relationship with Harry to turn unambiguously antagonistic after he successfully escaped her, only to have a letter carried by a magical construct come knocking at her door. The invitation to attend his wedding had been so surprising, so utterly brazen, that she could do nothing but laugh and accept. Such boldness should be acknowledged, after all.

And she had received a gracious welcome, the kind that one would give to a dear friend. Truly, he was the first person she had ever met who understood that just because they were enemies was no reason to be rude about it, and that there was a time and place for fighting.

The other guests were less accommodating, but most of them were easily taken in by her charm. Only a few, such as Tyrande Whisperwind and Malfurion Stormrage, remained on edge around her, but watching them squirm as they tried to pretend that they weren't unsettled by her presence was tremendously entertaining.

Even now, while officiating the wedding ceremony, Tyrande still wasn't able to relax!

"… brought together under the light of Elune…" The High Priestess was reciting, but always making sure to keep Azshara in her peripheral vision. The split attention made her words feel distracted and stiff.

Azshara made sure to move and shift every so often, further distracting her old foe. Nothing so overt as the annoyances that Harry had subjected her own servants to, but she had to admit that there was a certain petty amusement to be found in this. She had never really been surrounded by people that were not her subjects, so teasing people that had no loyalty to her was a new experience.

Of course, she would never be so churlish as to actually do anything to violate the hospitality she had been offered, but Tyrande didn't seem to understand that even though Harry had likely told her as much. Then again, what else can you expect from the lowborn? They hadn't been taught proper manners.

"… pray for lasting peace and happiness in their marriage…" Tyrande went on and Azshara could only sigh.

Wedding ceremonies certainly had become stuffy affairs among her former people over the past ten millennia. Everything had become about peace and harmony with nature. Feh, it wasn't peace and harmony that had carved out an empire for the kaldorei.

No wonder they had so much trouble contending with even such base beasts as the orcs.

As the ceremony slowly wound to a close, Azshara slithered over to the father of one of the brides. Three brides and only a single living relative between them, how tragic.

"You must be happy for your daughter…" She murmured quietly. "…to be marrying so far above her station."

The night elf went stiff as a board and refused to look at her or reply. That was fine, Azshara didn't need him to speak to amuse herself.

"A sorcerer like Harry would have been much favored among the Highborn, and women like your daughter would have counted themselves fortunate to be taken as concubines by one such as him." She continued sibilantly. "I do wonder if they will be treated as equals… or as passing amusements."

That got a reaction. The silver-haired night elf's head snapped towards her and he glared furiously for a few moments before speaking. "My daughter knows what she is doing."

"If you say so." Azshara chuckled. "But does she know what he is doing?"

Tyrande had finished her closing statement by now and the newlyweds were looking around. Jessir caught sight of her and immediately looked concerned at the proximity to her father.

The huntress didn't run towards them, but she did walk quite fast. Harry was right behind her, looking much less concerned.

"Father." Jessir greeted, throwing suspicious glances at Azshara. The girl had no skill at all at hiding her feelings. "Are you all right?"

"Of course he is." Azshara butted in. "He was speaking to me, after all."

That earned her a dirty look. "You stay away from him."

So crass and blunt!

Harry put his hands on her shoulders and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "Hey now, don't worry. Azshara was just feeling lonely and looking to make some friends. This is the first time she's attended a party that wasn't all about her."

He was both completely wrong and completely right. And he had also slipped a mild insult in there. A much worthier opponent.

Harry leaned down to speak softly into his new bride's ear. "Why don't you spend some time with your father. I'll handle this."

Jessir smiled at him and nodded. They had gone to some effort to pretty her up for the wedding, but the tattoos on her face still made her look like a savage pretending to be civilized.

"I still cannot grasp what you see in her or the other one. They are just so… unrefined." Azshara sighed.

"I find their lack of refinement rather charming, actually." Harry's smile was full of amusement. "Refined women are kind of boring."

"Oh? Am I boring to you, Harry?" Azshara asked silkily.

"I think you'd be a lot more fun if you were less powerful, or if you were a man." He mused, as if talking to himself rather than her. "Women just don't know how to have fun with power. You always end up taking everything too seriously, especially yourselves."

It wasn't often that Azshara was surprised – and never that she would admit it – but she had not been expecting that. Didn't appreciate it either.

"Such youthful naivete." She laughed airily. "I am Azshara, it is others who don't know how to have fun with me."

"Is that so? I'd love to have some fun with you." He said in a low voice.

She slithered closer. "Oh? What kind of fun?"

"A drinking contest."

Azshara paused in surprise for a moment, raising an eyebrow. "Truly?"

"I've never seen anyone stay dignified when drunk, but I think you have what it takes to pull it off."

"Of course I do." She immediately asserted.

"Then let's go. I challenge you to a battle over the tankard."

"Alas, it will have to wait for another day." Azshara sorrowfully shook her head. "I had only a limited amount of time to slip away from my duties and they now beckon me to return."

"That's too bad. I'll look forward to our next meeting."

"Of course you will. I am Azshara."

XXXXX

"Crafty bitch." Harry grumbled as the light show of the teleport faded, annoyed that Azshara hadn't taken any of the bait he'd dangled out.

Ha! Fish puns!

He'd really been hoping that the crack about powerful women taking themselves too seriously would get to her, disingenuous though it was. Taking oneself too seriously was a failing common to most powerful people.

Harry supposed that he should have expected that Azshara would be too arrogant to consider herself as part of any group, even a group as broad as 'women'. Given what he knew of her, she probably considered herself to be a higher, unique existence and thus removed from all criticism that could be levied against her indirectly.

"I don't understand." Garona admitted as she ghosted up to him. "Why challenge Azshara to a drinking contest? Were you trying to humiliate her?"

"No, it's because both night elves and naga have shit alcohol tolerance." Harry snorted. "She's too proud to back down and if she died from something as ignoble as alcohol poisoning, she'd be too embarrassed to make use of any anti-death contingencies she might have."

"Did you really expect that to work?" She stared at him.

"No, but there was no harm in trying." He admitted. "At any rate, at least you can relax now that she's gone. Sorry about asking you to work when you should be able to let loose a bit."

"It's fine." Garona shrugged. "I don't enjoy parties anyway, so it at least gave me something to do."

Harry hummed thoughtfully and looked around for someone they could talk to. He wasn't much of a party enjoyer either, so he may as well take care of some business.

Luna and Tyrande were talking to Archbishop Benedictus, along with the ever intractable Sally Whitemane. Jessir was chatting with that huntress Sentinel captain from Astranaar, their respective wolf companions play fighting nearby. Colette was reminiscing with Thane Korth'azz over drinks, the only other former member of the Four Horsemen who had agreed to come (Mograine had claimed to be busy and Zeliek had vanished to parts unknown on his self-imposed redemption quest). Arko was having some kind of discussion with Maraad. And lastly Jaina was… talking to Sylvanas?

Well, that was a bit unusual. He couldn't imagine that those two had a whole lot to talk about.

"Let's go bug Jaina." Harry suggested, already moving.

"One day, she is going to hurt you." Garona muttered.

"She hurts my feelings every time she turns down my advances."

"Then stop advancing?"

"I can't. In ancient times, humans were persistence hunters. We caught our prey by chasing them to exhaustion. If I stopped now I would dishonor my ancestors."

The look she gave him left no doubt as to how full of shit she thought he was. Which was fair, seeing as it was true. But more importantly, Harry was happy to see Garona's snark-fu. She'd been way too repressed when they first met. His only regret was that he had missed months of development while being Azshara's unwilling guest.

Both Jaina and Sylvanas stopped their conversation when they caught sight of him and Garona ambling closer. The former was wearing a slightly fancy dress that, ,sadly, did not show off her belly, while the latter had elected to show up in her Farstrider uniform.

"Ladies." Harry greeted with a smile. "Enjoying yourselves?"

"No." Sylvanas said bluntly, making Jaina stare at her in surprise.

"Not one for parties, huh?" Harry smiled, more amused by the bluntness than anything else. It felt strange to see it from an elf, but he supposed that Sylvanas was just about fed up with everyone's shit. "I almost feel bad for inviting you, then."

"Sylvanas mentioned that you offered a way to handle the elve's magical addiction?" Jaina came to an unnecessary rescue, shifting the conversation to something ostensibly safer.

"That's right." He nodded. "Did Sylvanas come to you for a second opinion?"

"More like a third or fourth, I think." The young archmage smiled ruefully. "She wanted to know how you would go about making that idol you mentioned and how much influence it would have over their people."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at Sylvanas, taking note of her defiant stare. What a suspicious woman. "It depends considerably on whether you chose Azeroth or Elune. In the case of the former, I would grab a mining pick and find myself a gold mine, then dig up a good hunk of the stuff to work with."

"Why gold?" Sylvanas asked.

"Because pure, unalloyed gold doesn't tarnish." He explained. "That's an important bit of symbolism to represent the purity of your souls and the incorruptible nature of the bond you would share with Azeroth. I could have used any other metal with the same property, but gold is easy to find and easy to work with."

"But why would you need to mine it?" Garona asked. "You can create your own gold."

"The Law of Contagion." Jaina answered knowingly. "Naturally occurring gold is connected to the world, where alchemically created gold is connected to the alchemist. That's the same reason why you have to mine it yourself, isn't it? So that the resulting idol would be untainted by outside influence?"

"And I could imbue that property into the idol, preventing it from being meddled with." He confirmed. "I didn't know you did any enchanting?"

"I don't, but the basics are a requirement for every apprentice in Dalaran." She admitted easily. "What would you use if they choose Elune?"

"In that case I'd just ask her to throw some moonsteel my way." Harry shrugged. "Elune is an unusually practical deity, so I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind helping me out even if I'm not one of her worshipers."

"Can you swear to me that this is not some trick to bind my people?" Sylvanas interrupted, staring at him with fierce eyes.

"I do have some ulterior motives." Harry admitted with a casual shrug. "I didn't mention that swearing such an oath will be instantly fatal for anyone that has already sold their soul to either the Burning Legion or the Old Gods or any other faction that means harm to Azeroth. And I expect that whether you swear to Azeroth or Elune, circumstances will eventually force you to break away from the Horde."

"What do you have against the Horde?" Jaina's question came out rather exasperated.

"Nothing whatsoever." Harry smiled innocently. "I just want them to be too weak to challenge the Alliance in any meaningful fashion. Having a world divided between two evenly matched and antagonistic factions is the worst of all political situations. The Horde has historically been the source of many problems, so they're the ones getting shafted. Besides, all my girls are in the Alliance."

"You are awfully open with your intentions, considering that I am part of the Horde." Sylvanas noted coldly.

"By all means, share my nefarious plans with Thrall and anyone else you care to." Harry invited with a smirk. "What are they going to do? Stop me from helping you? Try to assassinate me? That'll serve my plans even better."

"This kind of thing is why I keep worrying about you turning evil." Jaina huffed.

"Spend a few centuries as a politician and you, too, will be basically indistinguishable from 'evil'." He snorted.

"I'm not planning to live for centuries."

"You might after I seduce you."

"Really, Harry? At your own wedding?"

"It's tacky, I know, but I didn't want you to feel like I was giving up."

"Yes, I'm sure my feelings were your main concern."

"You should know that I find cute girls like you being sarcastic very attractive."

"And what if the elves do not break away from the Horde as you expect?" Sylvanas pretended that the little byplay with Jaina hadn't happened.

"I'm quite sure you will." Harry reassured. "Not immediately, no, but your culture is simply too different and you live on a different continent. If you spilled blood together against the Alliance, then a lot of the rough edges would be smoothed over and you would have burned all your other bridges, but you haven't done that yet. All I have to do is keep tensions between the Horde and the Alliance as low as possible and peace will erode whatever fragile bonds you've made with the orcs. The restoration of the Forsaken has already muddied the waters there. And the best part is that Jaina is going to help me do it, even knowing that my plan is to weaken the Horde, because she wants everyone to get along. Isn't that right, honey?"

"Don't call me honey." The archmage huffed and looked away, pointedly not denying his words.

"And if Thrall or his successor sees what you are doing and attempts to oppose you, they will look like warmongering brutes, again playing into your hands." Sylvanas realized, a tone of grudging admiration in her voice. "You are engaging the Horde in a battlefield they do not understand."

"Well, I'm certainly not going to get into a fist fight with them." Harry shrugged.

Earth had refined the art of political spin-doctoring over the course of centuries, and he had centuries more experience putting it into practice. It was a fight that Thrall had no hope of winning, even if he was orc Jesus. Sylvanas was already referring to the Horde as 'they' instead of 'us' and she probably hadn't even noticed.

"You are a very dangerous man." Jaina said with a frown.

"Does it get you all tingly?" He grinned.

"Harry, are you bothering Jaina again?" The warning tones of Arko'narin sounded from behind him.

Harry turned around to face his newly wedded wife, smiling. She looked so adorably uncomfortable in the airy white dress she was wearing. "Bothering? Never. We are plotting the downfall of the Horde."

"Right." The night elf paladin clearly didn't believe him, possibly because Sylvanas was right there and she was part of the Horde. Theoretically. "And how does flirting with Jaina at our wedding fit into it?"

"It's fun, you should try it someday." Harry advised.

"Please don't." Jaina begged.

But Harry could see the moment of indecision in Arko's eyes. There was a part of her that wanted to do it. This was a perfect time to strike.

"Well…" He said, clapping his hands with a sense of finality. "I think it's about time we get to the main event."

"Main event?" Arko asked, puzzled.

Hah, how adorably innocent. Then again, these kinds of shenanigans usually weren't part of a night elf wedding.

"Ladies, it's been a pleasure talking to you." Harry said to Jaina and Sylvanas before turning to the only half-orc present. "Garona, you're the lady of the house now. Look after our guests."

"What are you talking about?!" There was a hint of alarm in her normally controlled voice. "Where are you going? I don't know anything about playing host!"

"You'll do fine." He assured, and bent the ear of a curious Arko.

As he whispered his plan to her, her cheeks went a darker purple, but the humor in her eyes showed that she was interested.

XXXXX

It was a bit surreal for Colette, getting married. Even so much time after being restored to life, some things just didn't feel real. When the question had been asked, she had said yes without hesitation and without even giving it much thought for the same reason that she had jumped at the chance to join the Battle Harem – there was nowhere else to go and she wanted to be part of something.

It was only as the ceremony had concluded, as Tyrande had bound their wrists together with a strap of mooncloth and pronounced them bound in holy matrimony (albeit with some awkwardness as the ritual was adjusted for a group instead of just two people) that it truly hit her that she was now a married woman.

It was hard to keep a smile off her face whenever she thought of that. Harry was a good man and the other girls were fun. Odd as their union was, she could have hardly hoped for better.

"There ya go, drifting off again." Thane Korth'azz her old companion needled. "Ye always did have yer mind in the gutter."

"Be quiet, you." Colette scolded him, unable to keep the amusement out of her voice. "Can't a woman enjoy her new married status in peace without some dwarf grumbling from down below?"

"'Some dwarf' am I?" Thane squawked with mostly fake indignation. "And don't think ye can make short jokes now just because ye got taller."

Colette chuckled. "It's too bad Alexandros couldn't make it."

"He always was too grim." Thane snorted. "But at least he ain't a whining pansy like Zeliek."

Colette wanted to disagree, but Zeliek really did whine a lot. A good man, but one that took far too much guilt upon his shoulders.

"I still would have liked them to be here." They might not look upon their time as the Four Horsemen fondly, but Colette at least had good memories of the camaraderie they shared even in undeath.

"Oi…" Thane's voice had taken on a suspicious edge. "I think yer man be up to something."

Colette blinked and looked around, easily spotting Harry. He was approaching her with an intent stride that made a familiar heat pool in her loins. Ah, were they moving to the consummation already? Her body was ready.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she spotted Arko approaching Jessir with a similar intent prowl. Had the two of them come up with some kind of plan to quietly slip away?

She smiled at her new husband when he approached. "Harry-waagh!" Only to transition into a startled yelp when he smirked, bent down and threw her over his shoulder. "What are you doing?!"

"It's time to get to the fun part." He stated confidently. "Sorry to kidnap your conversation partner, Thane, but we've got a marriage to consummate."

"Oh my, how bold." Colette would forever deny that she was blushing.

Than chortled. "Ye go ahead and sow some oats in her, laddie!"

Crude!

People had of course noticed this display and were now whispering and talking about it, some amused and some scandalized.

Then there was another yelp from another direction. "Arko!"

Said night elf paladin was carrying her friend the same as Harry was carrying her, but unlike Harry's confidence, she was blushing a violent purple and trying to flee into the tower as fast as possible.

"Do me next!" Luna called out from nearby, spreading her arms and positioning herself out in the open for an easy grab.

Not one to deny an invitation, Harry fast-walked towards her and scooped her up in a single smooth motion.

"Wheee!" Luna squealed happily, waving ad their guest. "Bye bye, everyone! We're going to go have lots of sex now."

"Yes, Luna, I think they know." Colette couldn't help but drily note.

"Thanks for performing the service for us, Tyrande!" Luna ignored her in her rush to get whatever final words she had out. "If you want to spend the night here with Malfurion, there's guest rooms one floor up! Just pick whichever one you like and don't worry about messing up the sheets!"

Colette could only laugh. It wouldn't be Luna if she didn't say something inappropriate.

"And Jaina! I know you said you weren't going to join us, but the door is open!"

XXXXX

OMAKE – Memetic Contagion

On Earth, alarm clocks were a hated invention. From the old timey mechanical ones that created an unholy racket to the digital ones that only beeped softly in an attempt to not offend the sleeper they were meant to awaken, all of them were despised more than a messenger bearing bad news. Only the most psychotic of morning persons did not bear at least some kind of resentment for alarm clocks in their soul.

As he was awoken by the pecking of a raven's beak upon his metal skull, Harry wondered if alarm clocks were really all that bad.

The raven croaked at him, mocking and malicious, its beady eyes staring soullessly.

"What does it want?" Arko moaned, burying her head further into the crook of his neck and vaguely swinging her hand in the direction of the offending bird.

The raven easily dodged the clumsy attempt at murdering it, jumping atop the headboard of the bed and staring down at Harry ominously. That didn't necessarily mean much, because ravens were somewhat specialized in being ominous, so they couldn't really do anything else.

"What is it?" Harry asked grumpily.

"Visitor. Stone giant. Wants to see the manager." The raven croaked.

Wait, what?

"Karen?" Luna murmured sleepily.

Yes, that did sound like a Karen, but surely it couldn't be…

A few minutes later, Harry was dressed and staring in fascinated horror at the abomination standing at his front door.

"What the hell happened to you?"

It was the renamed Maiden of Virtue, but she was much changed. No longer was she wearing her rather attractive turquoise dress with golden boots and girdle, now she was wearing a flower print shirt and scarf combination that only a deranged mind could think looked good.

Worse still, her stone grey hair was now styled into a distinctive spiky back and chin-length bob at the front, with ugly and ill-fitting blonde streaks painted on.

"Nothing happened to me." Even her voice had taken on a grating irritability, the kind of pointless impatience that instantly made you want to smack a bitch. "Now what are you going to do about this mess?"

"What mess?" Harry asked, having no idea what she was talking about.

"The mess in Uldaman!" Karen – for she was now fully a Karen – near-yelled. "Everything is broken and it's all your fault."

"But I never went anywhere near Uldaman." He protested, already knowing it was pointless.

"You have the Heart of Azeroth, that makes it your responsibility!" She retorted stubbornly. "Now go fix Archaedas so I can file a complaint."

"By the pits of the Abyss, what have I done?" Harry muttered.

XXXXX

OMAKE 2 –Modern Warfare

Jessir was Azshara talking to her father and felt deeply alarmed., so she stomped over there as soon as the wedding ceremony was over.

"Father, are you alright?" She asked, shooting a dirty look at the naga queen, her eyes promising death if he had been harmed.

"Of course he is fine." Azshara butted in with a smile. "I would never harm dear Nadaar."

And saying that, she proceeded to coil around him in what could almost be called a loving embrace. More disturbingly, her father seemed to enjoy it.

"What?" It was the only thing Jessir could say.

"Oh, don't mind us." The ancient evil said sweetly. "Your father and I merely discovered that we get along with each other rather well."

"What." It was no longer even a question, but a dull statement.

Harry, who had been right behind her, sighed. "Maybe I shouldn't have introduced her to the noble art of trolling…"